/lit/ - Literature

>Today has been the Day of the Bowl— a grim and bloody day, but an unavoidable one. Tonight, from tens of thousands of tables, breakfast nooks, and tv trays throughout this vast metropolitan area the gruel sits.
In the lighted areas one sees them everywhere. Even the cafe's in stripmalls have been pressed into service, and at practically every street corner I passed this evening on my way to HQ there was tipped over container, milk at every intersection.

>Spilling in a single storm drain only about a mile from here is a group of about 30, each with an identical placard around its neck bearing the printed legend, "I betrayed my breakfast." Two or three of that group had been smeared with jams and jelly before they were strung up, toast and fried eggs stuffed in their pockets, the whole batch are apparently brunch eaters from the nearby UCLA campus.

What did he mean by this?

Anything by John Green