Why They Call it a Feed

There was an old, old cartoon, I'm guessing 1930's, that I associated with Warner Brothers and Looney Tunes (it played on the same Saturday morning cartoons as Bugs Bunny, Road Runner, Daffy Duck, Tweety [no, not Chris Matthews- the other Tweety], and so on) but I'm not even certain those companies existed at the time. It was about a gluttonous little pig that was caught by a mad scientist and strapped into a chair then sent through a crazy feeding machine. A mechanical arm attached to his snout and another attached to his chin forced his mouth to work, and other apparatus kept shoving the food in. Turns out, if I remember correctly, that the pig was having a nightmare. It was pretty nightmarish for a kid to watch, too, but it was enjoyable in a cartoonish scary way.

So I just wrote up several posts. Went outside and smoked a cigarette. No more than a couple of hours away from the RSS. There are 236 new items for me to read. I really feel like hitting the "mark all items as read" button. *sigh*

But I wouldn't want to miss anything good.

Late last week, as I was leaving Interzone after a marathon day of reading (i.e., I started before mid-afternoon), I told Katy I had finally finished it.

"What?" she asked.

"The internet."

"The whole thing?"

"The very last page."

"Wow, that's great!"

"Yeah, I won't spoil it for you, but the ending is great. Totally out of left field, took me completely by surprise. But I'm a little upset."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, I don't know what I'm going to do tomorrow."

Turns out all the netizens all got together that night, and wrote a whole bunch of sequels.

And I'm still strapped in, being force-fed by this mad scientist. But I'm not missing anything good. ; )