... continued

Or read some more blogs, of course.
Reader Request week coming up chez Whatever, and skimming through the list of previous years' topics, came across RR 2008 # 10: Meeting Authors (and Me). Remarks on the inequality of "knowing you, knowing me" between famous people and their fans resonating with yesterday's Angina Irretis post. Because it's not just famous people. It's you, it's me, right here, right now. It feels like whole parcels of pick-nick, but it are just crumbs.
Storing these remarks and feelings away in a dark cranny beneath the skull now, like yesterday's post, like flamewar PST, and other brushes I had with this "it looks real but it's just digital blips on the radar" thing called online life. See, Cow Watcher works with those little bits, creating a thing of beauty. I know it. I feel it. It hovers in the dark there, an unformed blob of wet clay, a painting under a dust cover, like a cat in a box with a bottle of poison. I can describe the outside of the box all I want, but I know nothing of what goes on inside without a peep. And Cow Watcher don't like me peeping.