I ran out of internet. And I'm still earwormed with "There Are No Cats in America." This song just never goes away. (And also, I'm thinking way too much about that movie. The metaphor just doesn't work. In Russia, the cats are pogroms. To the Irish mice, the cats are the English. To the Sicilian mice, the cats are the mafia. Which don't all really work as being the same sort of problems, but whatever. But then, when there are cats in America, they're the guys who run the sweatshops? Which makes some sense in terms of oppression, but no sense at all in terms of "You might be randomly killed in your house.")
My shoulder's feeling better enough that I'm just on Tylenol tonight, not anything stronger. So I have no idea where this urge to analyze cartoon mice is coming from.