Alice climbed out of the news hole. She seemed badly shaken. "I
thought Wonderland was curious indeed," she said, "but Medialand is
even more peculiar."
Responding to my quizzical look, she quickly added: "Don't
worry, I stayed away from the hookah-smoking caterpillar, the 'Drink
Me' bottle and the 'Eat Me' cake. I did not converse with a single
playing card, dormouse or mock turtle. I was simply observant."
Alice's sudden appearance in the sunlit meadow gave me an idea.
No longer a girl, she was clearly an intelligent woman. "Here," I
said, pulling a laptop from my briefcase, "please write about your
latest adventures." And before she could decline, I ran off.
Returning hours later, I found these words:
Oh dear, how to begin? The Hatter and the March Hare could never
match the lunacy I've just seen in Medialand. I'd heard of people
subsisting on treacle, but the current media diet is rather more
grim. I've got half a mind to write a poem: "The Walrus and the
Journalist wondered where they'd been. / They wept like anything to
see such quantities of spin..."