Friday, January 24, 2014

Down the Rabbit-Hole

You know that thing where you're like, "I'm all ready for bed and I still have fifteen minutes before sleepy time?"

And you're lying in bed, Facebooking on your mobile device, when you see that one of your classmates wrote a post about Bonnie and Clyde?

And you realize that you know next-to-nothing about Bonnie and Clyde, so you Google them?

And you learn lots of fascinating stuff like that Bonnie was four foot ten and married to some other guy?

And before you know it, it's twenty minutes past your bedtime but you're like, "I was going to bed early anyways. It's okay if I read for a little longer?"

And soon you find yourself reading about Belle Starr?

And the Hatfields and the McCoys?

And all this history makes you remember that historical science fiction series where all of the characters are kids from history who disappeared and the protagonist's historical identity has yet to be revealed?

And you're like, "I'll go to bed after I read some theories about what kid from history he is?"

And then pretty soon you're reading articles about not only the Beaumont kids, Etan Patz, and Joe Pichler, but also about every single suspect in their disappearances and all the other awful crimes those suspects have been implicated in?

And you're like, "Wow, it's late. How did two hours just pass without my noticing?"

But you're too creeped out to sleep, so you decide to read about Everett Ruess  for a while, to make you happy?

Except in retrospect, that is a terrible idea, because reading about Everett Ruess to make you happy is like reading Romeo and Juliet to gain an optimistic perspective of teen romance?

And so you don't get happy, but very much the opposite, and somewhere down the rabbit-hole of Everett Ruess information, more kidnapper-murderers turn up and any hopes you had of not feeling freaked out are dashed?

And so you go to bed in the wee hours of the morning with unease creeping up and down your spine and imaginary or not-so-imaginary kidnapper-murderers creeping up and down your halls?

You know it? You know that thing?

I hate that thing.

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