How weird is my cat, vol 17, ch 3...

Raw kohlrabi? Om-nom-nom...

Sometimes I think I should grab the domain name howweirdismycat.com. But then I'd have to grab howthickismycat.com, for those times he lets himself down: as, f'rexample, how many years will it take for him to understand that my feet are moveable feasts, and lack eyes? Four times, four times today he has been trodden on, on account of lurking too damn close in the kitchen when my attention is actually, y'know, on what I'm doing...

CatCon!

Need I say more? I think in fact the entire concept is contained within those six little letters: CatCon...!

It's so obvious, why has no one come up with this before? All it took was shewhomust and me, and a once-it's-been-opened-you-know-it-won't-keep bottle of brandy. And shewhomust doesn't even have a cat...

CatCon. Oblige me by thinkin' about it, just for that little moment that it needs; then feel it sink below conscious level, into the very marrow of your bones. It ought to exist; it needs to exist; it shall exist. It has, in fact, always existed, in some more pure version of this world.

If we build it, they will come. Fen from all over: crime readers, SF/F/H readers, romance readers, even vanilla mainstream readers. Cats cover the waterfront. Yes, and the hinterlands also.

Writers. You know this to be the case.

Artists. Their own work confirms it; breathes there an artist who has never drawn a cat?

Academics. Of course. We can have an academic stream: cats through history, cats in the history of art. Science, Serendipity and the Cat. The mummification of cats: a practical workshop (no cats harmed in the expositon of these techniques).

Filkers. I am told the internets are full to bursting with catfilk.

Geeks, of course. Linux may try to conceal its true nature behind a fat penguin, but is the internet full of penguin-macros? It is not.

Cat-macros! Another practical workshop! And papers, a whole stream of papers on lolcat and linguistics, oh yes...

C'mon, then. What have I forgotten?