Res Ipsa Loquitur

The night Max pretended to be a troll and made mischief of one kind

and another

his mother called him "MSM" and Max said "I AM SO BLOGGING THAT!" so he was sent to bed without his wireless access card.

That very night in Max's room a cable modem grew

and grew--

and grew until his ceiling hung with Cat-5 cables and the walls became the WWW all around

and Blogspot tumbled by with a private blog for Max and he blogged on through night and day

and in and out of weeks and almost over a year to where the MSM are.

And when he came to the place where the MSM are they roared their terrible roars and gnashed their terrible teeth and rolled their liberal eyes and showed their terrible press credentials

till Max said "STFU!" and tamed them with the blogger's trick of fact checking their ass without misspelling a word and they were frightened and called him the most wonderful blogger of all

and made him the Drudge of all the MSM.

"And now," cried Max, "let the wild fisking start!"

"Now stop!" Max said and sent the MSM off to bed without their editors. And Max the Drudge of all the MSM was lonely and wanted to be where someone commented on his posts.

Then all around from far away across the blogosphere he heard a trackback ping so he gave up being the Drudge of where the MSM are.

But the MSM cried "Oh please don't go---we'll quote you in our next article---we love you so!" And Max said "No way dude. You've jumped the shark."

Then the MSM roared their terrible roars and gnashed their terrible teeth and rolled their liberal eyes and showed their terrible press credentials but Max starting uploading his Blogspot files to MT and waved goodbye

and FTP'd his archives back over a year and in and out of weeks and through a day

and into the night of his very own room where he found his MT blog waiting for him

and he'd been Instalanched.