Everlasting Grief, You Know, Profit

As a diversion from something else, I continue to work my way through the equine omens of Šumma Ālu. That means working my way through the chariot omens of Šumma Ālu including those that don’t mention horses or donkeys at all. Sometimes these omens perplex me. CT 40 35-37(K. 3836+7211 +) obv.:33-34 is an example.
DIŠ NUN GIŠ.GIGIR U5ma ana GÙB GIŠ.GIGIR ŠUB-ut ŠU dIŠTAR ana EGIR U4me ni-ziq-tum \\ Á.TUK \\ IGI-šú
If a prince rides a chariot and he falls to the left side of the chariot – hand of Ištar; everlasting grief; i.e. profit; i.e. his past(?).
The first part of the portent is clearly bad, “hand of Ištar; everlasting grief (qāt dištar ana arkât ūmē niziqtum)” And if that was all there were to it I wouldn’t be perplexed. But following these words is a gloss sign (\\ in my transliteration, “i.e.” in my translation) and following the gloss sign is Á.TUK (nêmelu) which means “profit,” yes, financial profit but other kinds of profit as well. That doesn’t sound like “everlasting grief .” If not the exact opposite, it sure sounds like a fortunate as opposed to an unfortunate portent. Let’s put it this way, one wouldn’t perform a namburbi ritual for nêmelu but one sure might want to for qāt dištar ana arkât ūmē niziqtum.
Akkadian omens with contradictory portents occur occasionally. Such contradictions are part of the evidence that lead some, including me, to think that empirical observation was an element in the divination tradition. Sometimes things didn’t go the way the portent foretold and the newly observed result needed to be added to the tradition. Or so the argument might go. Ancient commentaries occasionally tried to resolve such contradictions. Sometimes they only contributed to them. As far as I know no ancient commentary is extant for this omen or the whole of this Šumma Ālu tablet.
After Á.TUK (nêmelu), “profit,” there is another gloss sign followed by IGI-šú. I could well be wrong about this but I take the second gloss as an attempt to resolve the contradiction. The logogram IGI is generally associated with the verb amāru, “to see, look at, discover, etc.,” with its wide semantic range and its many nominal forms or with the face or front of a person or thing. For example, IGI-šú often means “his eye” in omens and elsewhere. Nötscher, 22, reads IGI-šú in this omen as “ušâmir(?)-šú” and translates it “ihn sehen lassen?”. I suppose I would render ušâmiršu into English as “he will meet it” or the other way around, “it will meet him.” It’s not clear to me how this reading clarifies much of anything. Rather I think it is better to understand IGI here as equivalent to Akkadian maḫru, the past” (see CAD M1, 105) and render the mini-phrase maḫaršú, “his past.” On this reading I take this final gloss as a later attempt to reconcile “grief” and “profit.” Grief will come to the prince as result of falling of the chariot but profit was in his past. As I said, I could be wrong.

Nötscher, Friedrich, “Die Omen-Serie šumma ālu ina mēlê šakin,” Orientalia, NS, 51-54 (1930)