Scroll. Click. 1 a.m. “Eh.” Scroll. Click. Nicolas Cage. “Eh.” Scroll. Click. Nicolas Cage. “Again?”

Scroll. Click. 2 a.m. Nicolas Cage. “Why is he in every movie?” Scroll. Click. “Eh.”

Scroll. Click. 4 a.m.  Chocolate cake stolen from the kitchen through the talents of myself, a legitimate ninja. Scroll. Click. Nicolas Cage. “I guess this one looks fine.”

And so the bingeing begins.

This is the “Netflix Cycle,” and it is the brutal murderer of my semi-healthy sleep schedule. But if Netflix is the murderer, Nicolas Cage and I are accomplices. And this cycle of bingeing and murder occurs on an at least semi-regular basis.

Netflix is both a blessing and a curse cast upon our current age. The 1920s had flappers, jazz and gangster films, the 1970s had hippies, disco and “Jaws” and now we have teens with misplaced anxiety, slightly trashy pop and Netflix. What a world we live in.

On one hand, Netflix helped us obtain the ability to branch out more in our movie exposure. No longer are we limited to only the heavily advertised  productions. We have thousands of films at our disposal for a very small cost. We can watch what we want, when we want. Everything is just a click of the remote away.

On the other hand, Netflix has created several traps for its users. It lures us behind a curtain promising enjoyment and relaxation, then promptly strangles us with the chord used to pull back that curtain and reveals a dark reality of sleep deprivation and countless variations on the same movie all starring my new pal, Nicolas Cage.

As long as we keep our magic, button-bearing wands beside us on the couch so we don’t have to reach for them later, we seem to be perfectly content to remain in the same spot on the couch for hours, staring blankly at a television screen. But it could be worse. Netflix could have created an app which allows our generation to stream movies and mindless television shows on any of their devices, whenever they want. Oh, wait.

I am not criticizing anyone for enjoying and taking advantage of the miracle which is Netflix, because I am a dedicated supporter of this wonder created through the internet. I am just simply stating while Netflix may very well be one of the greatest inventions of our time, every good thing only remains pure when in moderation.

There is nothing corruptible about laughter, but the third century philosopher Chrysippus literally died of laughter when a donkey approached him and began eating his figs. If laughing at a fig-eating donkey can kill you, just imagine what bingeing on Netflix can do.

The moral of this story is simple. The Netflix cycle has seized control of a large chunk of our modern populace, myself included. Although the possible consequence of becoming a binge murderer who could possibly die has now been made known, will you willingly peek behind the curtain Netflix so strategically placed in front of its users and join Nicolas Cage and me in our next 4 a.m. adventure? I leave the choice to you.