NEW YORK (CNN/Money) - Cracked, burnt desolation was all around me, punctuated by lonely ruins and dusty wreckage on the horizon. It was a vast dry, arid desert. Netland. It had been green with promise once.

I wasn't sure how I got here. A dream? A hypnotic trance? A senior management meeting reverie?

A nearby signpost read "Superhighway" in cracked, neon tubing.

"Kind of sad, huh?" said a voice at my elbow. I jumped. A bent, crusty man wearing a miner's hat stood next to me. "Lots of folks passed by here not too long ago. Now they're all gone."

A mailbox was half-buried in the dust piled around the sign post. I heard a scratchy, whisper coming from it. "You got mail," it wheezed. I reached out.

"I wouldn't do that," remarked the man.

I couldn't help myself. I pulled down the hatch. Snakes swarmed out of the box, hissing and rattling. The colored striations on their backs said things like "farm girl porn," "free viagra" and "moneyforfree." I stumbled back, kicking at them.

"Seems to be more of those things every time," the man sighed. "Scares anyone coming by. They're mostly harmless. Mostly."

I watched them slither off. "Are they all over Netland?" I asked.

MORE WANDERINGS       Klingons and Vanilla Cokes

"Not as much as the pop-ups," said the man. "Careful, you're about to step on one."

I stepped back and looked down. There was a small explosion at my feet. Dust and sand scattered around, showering me with a cloud of dirt. I coughed and waved at the air in front of me. It finally cleared.

"People hated those too," said the old man. "Some people hated them so much, they stayed away from Netland. Others tried to carry on, but other things got to them."

"Like what?"

"Watch out," said the man, crouching down, "video ad storm."

I turned in time to see a wall of brightly colored moving images swirl up and descend upon me. Suddenly I was enveloped in a wave of animated locusts, each preaching its own little commercial. Hundreds of voices were in my ears and hundreds more voices were in my eyes. I crouched into a fetal position, screaming, until the wave subsided and moved on.

I got up, panting. "How can anyone think with that around?"

"A lot of people can't, so they left," he explained as he stood up. He held out a hand. "We've met before. I'm Old Link."

I shook the hand. He suddenly pulled it back. "Ha! Got your cookie," he laughed. He tossed the round confection up into the air. A vulture swooped by and caught it. It dived down and clutched at my jacket with its talons, giving it a sharp tug and pulling me into another pop-up explosion. As the dust cleared, again, I saw the vulture fly off over the horizon, still carrying the cookie in its beak. "He's going to pass it on. No tellin' who's going to hunt you now." Old Link chuckled.

RANTING ON TV       CNN Money Morning

"What happend to this place. It was beautiful. Things were growing. There were people. Lots of happy people."

Old Link shrugged. "Somebody put snakes in the mail box. Then they planted the pops-ups. Now the video storms come. Seemed like a little at first, but more and more of it got planted. Nothing to hold it back, really. So the people moved off."

I sank to my knees and clutched at the sand.

"You maniacs ... you blew it up .... awwww damn you ...."

Where is Charlton Heston when you need him?  

Allen Wastler, managing editor of CNN/Money, can be emailed here.