He is still battering anorexia, for little did the gossip mongers know, they were correct in their assessment. Having grown too weak to do much else, Michael is now tranfixed online and has a lot of very strange experiences.

The first cybernaut he talks to is a young girl who loves Oxymoron and wants to meet Michael. You can just imagine how she would react if she knew she was in a virtual chat room with her idol. She would likely scream it to the rooftops.

It turns out that this eighteen-year-old is having problems in university, is depressed and feels useless. Michael is saddened by the number of young people who log on and have someber tales to tell. He wonders what has become of this lost generation, this demographic group that has been the subject of a book and much analyzing. Michael didn't believe in analysis. He figured that these kids needed love and guidance and that someone cared about them. If Michael could provide that, he would be happy.

The unhappy teen's username was melancholia and she had been previously kicked out of the house on numberous occasions because she confided to her mother that she had been being molested by her father since her third year of life. The mother didn't believe in melancholia, whose real name was Sarah Schilling, and in state of denial, her mother was obviously taking her anger out on Sarah instead of the person who really deserved it. Sarah had become suicidal and even swallowed a bottle of barbiturates, nearly killing herself if her friend, Nancy, hadn't called her and Sarah sounded drunk over the phone. Nancy had rushed over and called 911, thus saving her friend's life. She told all this to Michael and he found that even her typing had a sad twinge to it.

Another young person Michael encountered was Sylvia Silver. She was a young model with a brash attitude that belied feelings of inferiority and self-loathing by treating others like that. She was a tough nut to break open and didn't allow herself to cry, even with a parent who was a notorious "stage mother" and kept taking Tracy, her daughter, from one talent agency to another, telling her to "lose some weight--the camera adds ten pounds, you know", and "you look terrible today. Everyone will think you're a little tramp. Put this on and let me fix your make-up. Tracy was seven years old when her mother was saying thing like that to her. Tracy's reaction was to develop eating disorders, something with which Michael could identify. He would try to be supportive to her and when Tracy had a crisis because she gained two pounds, Michael really wondered if that weird mother of hers had any clue as to what she was doing to her daughter.

Then there was Jason. Jason was seventeen, a year away from university and feeling hopeless. He had no idea why he harboured thoughts like this, but it had gotten to the point where Jason was so unhappy that his parents sent him to a psychiatrist. The doctor put him on Prozac, which helped somewhat, but didn't take that empty feeling away from him. Later on in this Webpage you will find out why Jason is the way he is.

The youngest member of the chat room spoke up after lurking for some time. "Hi, may I join? I'm only thirteen but I know what you guys are talking about. Know what? My parents smoke dope right in front of me, just as if to say that it's okay to do that, or take any drug I want. Are they bizarre or what? I'm leaving as soon as I possibly can before they turn me into a junkie like they are". This person identified herself as jazzy, but Michael didn't think she felt that way for some reason.

An older teenager, Brad, wondered who Julian was. "You're not one of those perverts who gets into chat rooms with kids and messes around with us are you?" Michael was horrified and could not type fast enough. "No,no NO!" I am NOT like that. I just feel for you people because I know the crap that's been dished out to you. The world as it is now really sucks. I'm not messing with your heads or anything else and you have to believe me".

Someone else entered the chatroom and typed, "Hey everyone! Bet you wish you could see how sexy I am! You'd be drooling over your keyboards".

"You mean barfing all over our keyboards", responded Tracy, feeling that this person, whoever he or she was a loser. "What's the matter? Afraid to tell us who you are?"

"Sure. Leslie Spit here. Got my name from a Canadian rock band I like, the Leslie Spit Tree-o. I have lots of spit and vinegar with my sexuality that it's the perfect name for me".

"Lady, you've gotta get a clue", responded Jason. "Nobody likes a braggart. And don't advertise if you haven't got anything to sell. Bet you're a real nobody except on the Internet, where you can be whoever you want to be. Just knock off the crap, okay?"

Michael was certain that anyone who acted like Leslie was insecure and experienced the same feelings of worthlessness as the other two young girls in the chat room, so he spoke up, "Hey, guys, give her a break. None of us are perfect, you know. We all have our ways of communicating".

"Who the hell are you? Our father?" piped up someone they hadn't noticed before, another lurker. "I bet you're a lot older than we are and get some kind of thrill out of this, even though you told them a few minutes ago that you don't do that sicko kinc of stuff".

It was obvious that this person was not the most pleasant and warm individual on the planet. Michael winced when he read "Leanandmean"'s words and didn't know what to say. He simply typed, "Well, I guess there is no way of convincing you, is there? So I'm not even going to try. I'm just going to let it go because the last thing we need here is a flamewar".

"Yeah, chicken-ass", leanandmean responded, whose real name was Russell. Michael figured him to be in his mid-to-late teens but in reality was twenty-something and he was the one who stalked kids on the Internet. It was a simple case of transference that he accuse Michael of the same crime in which he engaged on a regular basis. If any of them in that chat room knew that, they would be horrified. But on the Internet, you can hide everything. You can be anyone, say anything, profess to any occupation and nobody would know. A person could weigh four hundred pounds and tell other cybernauts that he or she was slim or be extremely unattractive and say they were drop-dead gorgeous.

Michael's thoughts were interrupted by a friend of his that came online. Her name was Mandy and he had met her at a concert when she was just getting started on her career in alternative rock, whatever that means these days. Frieda was extremely mercurial--up one day and devastated the next. She was addicted to heroin and her husband had recently left her for another. Michael was one of her only friends in which she could confide, so she was a bit upset that there were so many Internetters in this chat room. "Michael, could we go somewhere else?" Mandy asked. "I just need to talk to you privately. Is that okay?">

Michael wasn't sure about this dilemma. "Um, okay, Mandy, but not right away. There are some people in here whom I haven't had a chance to talk to yet".

"Oh yes, the great Michael Hope, saviour of our nation. Of course. Take all the time you need. Who cares what happens to me? Me, a hopeless junkie. Never mind, I'll go light up instead".

When the other members of the chat room heard the name "Michael Hope" they were extremely excited. However, they despised the way this Mandy person was manipulating the hell out of Julian.

"Yes", chimed in Leslie, "it's rude, selfish and mean. Michael will talk to you--he said he would. Who the hell are you, lady?"

"I'm Stephanie Hill", she replied and there was another cyber-gasp. Stephanie Hill! The infamous grunge singer who had her own band but was often obscene onstage. Michael had "adopted" her as a little sister who desperately needed love and attention. That's why he felt so torn. He wanted to stay with these people, but at the same time didn't want Steph doing anymore heroin.

"Hi everyone. Steve here. I've been lurking too---guess we're a group of voyeurs here tonight. Maybe I can help, Mandy. You must know who this is".

"Now how would I know that?" Typed Mandy angrily. Your username is bearcat so you could be anyone in this whole freaking world, wiseass".

"Mandy, that's enough", responded Michael before turning his attention to "bearcat", who was really fellow musician Lennie Brice. So, how's that tour of yours making out? You almost ready to go out on the road?"

The girls in the chat room could contain themselves no more. They all began typing at once, now knowing that they had Michael Hope and Lennie Brice in the same room as they were. What were the chances of that. Another "voice" popped up.

Hi, Michael. Guess who this is?" Whoever it was, he or she typed very quickly.

"I have no idea", replied Michael.

"It's Ruby--you know, you've known about me half your life".

Michael grew excited. "Ruby Jones? Hey, cool! I've been thinking about you a lot lately. You and I have to get together for a gig, or I'd settle for a coffee">

"Sure. I was going to ask you if you were free next week sometime. I'd like to approach you about a project I'm working on. We really, really could use your input. Haven't seen you out and about lately. Is everything alright?"

"Oh, yeah, everyone's concerned about Michael but nobody gives a rat's ass about mine. I'm out of here!" Stephanie left the chat room.

"Was it something I said? Ruby asked, worried and upset that she had done something wrong.

"No, no, no, it was absolutely nothing that you did, Ruby. Stephanie has a lot of problems, as you know and requires a lot of affection and attention. I hope you can understand that".

"Of course. I was just concerned for her".

"Typical Ruby Jones. You worry about everyone but yourself". It was obvious that Michael was very fond of this women. Most of the young people in the chat room figured that those two would get married one of these days, but in reality, they were just good friends who had a great deal of mutual respect for one another. Ruby had been a punk rocker back in the mid-to-late seventies and her style of singing hadn't changed much since those days. She could get away with it, however, because her talent was raw and exciting. Julian had been a fan of hers since he was an adolescent.

Suddenly there was another visitor in this very busy chat room. He identified himself as Jeff and said he was twenty-seven, wanted to write like Douglas Coupland and loved Oxymoron. That't the information the others got about him.

His life was perhaps the most disrupted of anyone's in the group but he said nothing of it. Michael knew by Jeff's silence and reluctance to post anything much meant he was upset. "Do you want to talk a bit? Everything okay?"

Sarah would have blurted out, "Oh, so it's like now you can read minds, Michael?" but since it was Michael Hope of Oxymoron, she kept her mouth shut for once in her miserable life.

"No, everything's fine---really. My dad just died last week so things are a bit, well, stressed. He was only forty-eight. But that kind of messed things up a bit".

"I'm sorry to hear that. So you like writing, do you?"

"Yes, very much. I've been doing it since I was five and my current literary hero is Douglas Coupland. I'd love to be able to write like that. He defined a whole generation, our generation. I would give anything to meet him someday".

The room was to have another visitor. This girl's username (or they assumed it was female) was SugarBabbe and the first thing she blurted onto everyone's monitor was how fantastic her physical attributes were and the number of sexual conquests she'd had since the age of thirteen.

Jeff urged her to go into private mode, which was the Internet equivalent of talking under the table so nobody else could read what was being typed. "Hey, girl, you know who's in this chat room with us?"

"As if I give a damn. Who the hell are you anyway, talking to me like that. You're not my old man, you know".

"Do you like Oxymoron?" Jeff asked, predicting the reaction and smiling just a bit.

"Why, duh, of course I do. They're the coolest band ever! What have they got to do with anything?"

"Well, my dear, Mr. Michael Hope is in this virutal room with us. Now how do you feel?"

"OHMIGOD! Are you SERious??? Oh I feel like a jerk, a useless piece of crap, you know; lunch meat, pond scum!"

Jeff felt badly that she had taken it so hard. SugarBabe was obviously just as shy and reclusive as he was and was putting on an act for the Internet as many did.

Well, I have introduced most of the characters in this chapter. The entire thing takes place online where some pretty bizarre things occur. Michael had found a diversion from his difficulty with eating, something that he could do without feeling dragged out and tired all the time. This is all that will appear of this chapter online. I hope you found it a diversion from the somewhat gloomy goings on of the previous ones.