What a curious species we have become.

Willing, no, no eager, partners of devices that somehow control us as we scroll.

Devices that spit out bits and bites of the world, cute puppies, intimations of Armageddon, swirling conspiracies.

Some bits true, some not, some fact, some fantasy.

And the bright, easy, separating line of truth once merely blurred slips away.

Mark Twitchell made his living in that fuzzy space where fantasy seems very real and reality?

Well, who knows?

But of course he did.

He was a movie maker, the storyteller, someone who imagined he could turn his make-believe into film and do it for a living.

Well, at least he hoped to make a living at it. As he rather excitedly told Detective Mike

Tabler, that first time the police came to call, when they asked if he knew anything at all that

might help them find the vanished Johnny Altringer. Not a thing, said Mark Twitchell.

But if the detective wanted to talk movies,

a Mark was all in.

I love what I do.

From the first day that I stepped on a set,

that was when I knew.

I was just like, I don't like the show going back.

Yeah.

Anything else is crap.

Nothing else would make me feel fulfilled in what I was doing and really love what I do,

so I just chased it with everything I had.

...