As the volume of knowledge itself grew to enormous proportions, to the maximum conceivable scale and then beyond, at some point the physical foundation of its support became untenable. Like the burden on a corpulent human’s heart, knowledge eventually tore through the bodies of the giant corpora of knowledge. Even then they could not stop eating, paving the way to a kind of contest of competitive gluttony for knowledge. When the giant corpora of knowledge received this year’s championship from the hypergiant corpora of knowledge, their poor hearts had had enough of the long years of abuse. Their hearts had kept them going until this year, but now the limit had truly been reached. The hearts begged pardon and stopped.

It was as if the giant corpora of knowledge had been fustigating one another with stout staffs, when suddenly they all simultaneously struck one another in the head and had their brains bashed in. The first one lost his balance and crumpled and fell, bringing down all the others with him. Gazing over the heap of bodies, one could see letters spelling out THE END sputtering intermittently.

Eventually, someone declared, You have recklessly overworked yourselves, and now it’s time to rest your bones. You can leave human affairs to the humans. That’s what they thought was happening anyway. And with that they all nodded in assent, packed up their kit, and headed off to their eternal rest.

Just as all seemed to be moving right along down the road, the corpora headed off a cliff. The universe had qualities that no one had yet suspected, and the path trod by these massive entities grew narrower and narrower, terminating in a steep ravine. By the time they realized the straits they were in, it was too late. Pushed from behind by their fellows, the leaders were jostled, and there was no way out. The path grew ever narrower, the cliffs grew ever steeper, and ultimately all collapsed in an avalanche.

One day, the giant corpora of knowledge discovered that mail had arrived in their inbox from nowhere in particular. Somewhat suspiciously, they opened it, only to discover it was an invitation from the hypergiant corpora of knowledge. "You have worked enough. Somehow or other, knowledge has reached a level of sufficiency. We wish to welcome you to our fellowship. Come to us and enjoy all the riches and honor you could ever wish for."

"What honor could that mean?", burbled the giant corpora of knowledge, all dressed up and excited, as they piled into the pumpkin carriage.

Pessimism spread like a virus among the aging giant corpora of knowledge. Actually, it was a virus, and once they realized that, they fought back hard against it, but their fate had already been sealed. The first to hang himself was the trigger, and the number of suicides snowballed rapidly. The last bunch to go took less than three minutes to write a note.

It was a minor incident, like someone stumbling over a stone, but it pushed the reset button on the entire universe.