Journey to Fergus-1

Journey to Fergus-1

It has surely been argued somewhere that our child-like sense of wonder has been ravaged by television. Like soma dripped directly into the brain via the eyeballs, the images of other lives, lives more beautiful, dangerous, and witty than our own, experienced vicariously, have sapped our ability to experience the raw sense of wonder that is our birthright. Could it be possible that the widespread use of the Internet, the Interactivity of that medium are helping us to restore that lost ability?


You see I met my editor over the Internet and it was thanks to him that I found myself traversing a long catwalk far above the tumultuous waters of the Grand River. Where was Christopher K. Miller, this gangly stranger, whom I'd met just minutes before taking me? There was no sign of a destination, just rocky precipices on either side of a fearsome gorge. Across from me a gigantic culvert spewed water and other effluvia from the Fergusian streets down and down to the river-thrashed boulders below. And Christopher, internet legend that he was, spotter of countless tiny errors in spelling and grammar, corrector of logical inconsistencies, was rightfully known for, and personally proud of, his macabre, inventive, and fundamentally twisted turn of mind. Should I be bracing myself for a plummeting plot twist worthy of the Harry Potter movie I had seen the night before? (DH part II was pretty good btw, a worthy, satisfying ending and my first 3d since Avatar was well worth the extra cash.)


But wait. The barren catwalk broadened and became populated. There were tables, pitchers of beer and young people in the evening sun. We were entering a wondrous new world perched high over what is presumably part of the Elora Gorge. We were entering the Goofie Newfie cafe.