Who is the mysterious German sandwich thrower? Doesn’t matter. Nothing does any more | Emma Beddington

From local news to international politics, absolutely nothing makes sense any more. Maybe it never will. I'm calling off the search for meaning

So what's your theory about the Magdeburg sandwich thrower? Just in case you haven't yet encountered this mystery for the ages, a phantom chucker of tinfoil-wrapped sausage, cheese and salami fruhstucksbrotchen (breakfast rolls, a German thing presumably, and I can't say I hate it) has been, well ... not terrorising, but perhaps intriguing or mildly irritating residents along the B184 in the Saxony-Anhalt region of Germany.

A picture in the newspaper of local football club manager Holger Becker down on one knee, holding out some crumpled foil in which a worthy-looking brown crust is visible, as if proposing to the viewer with it, is a sublime addition to the canon of angry people in local news pointing at stuff.

Emma Beddington is a Guardian columnist