Comeuppance is a lovely word. I should find more use for it.

Also, Dylan’s lyrics in “Ballad of a Thin Man” are completely bizarre, and remind me of Philip K. Dick stories. Fragmented, unclear, messing with your perceptions of reality. You can’t trust your senses, you can’t trust your memory. You can’t trust your cogito and can make only an educated guess about your sum.

You raise up your head
And you ask, “Is this where it is?”
And somebody points to you and says
“It’s his”
And you say, “What’s mine?”
And somebody else says, “Where what is?”
And you say, “Oh my God
Am I here all alone?”

        — Ballad of a Thin Man / Bob Dylan