When I was little, I always thought tiny humans ran the innards of our bodies. When I sent food down my throat to the stomach, I imagined a crew started tossing water on it and stomping it like fine Frenchman squishing grapes (kind of like Woody Allen’s Everything You Wanted to Know About Sex (But Were Afraid to Ask) meets The Fantastic Voyage).

Now we have the Internet. I swear the first Mac I owned had these little people turning wheels and shoveling coal to make it work. I get the "jist" of how stuff operates, but I can’t remember an atom from a particle, and if I think about it too long my brain hurts. I just hate to give up the thought of those itty bitty people keeping me cranked up. It’s too darned fun talking to all the voices in my head.