No One Ever Expects Poetry To Sell...

That Has Been The Great Achievement Of Our Age: To So Thoroughly Flood The Planet With Megabits That Every Image And Fact Has Become A Digitized Disembodied Nothingness. With Magnificent Determination, Our Species Has Advanced From Stone Age To Industrial Revolution To Digital Emptiness. We've Become Weightless, In The Bad Sense Of The Word.

Imagine A World In Which There Is No Time. Only Images.

When The First Mechanical Clocks Were Invented, Marking Off Time In Crisp, Regular Intervals, It Must Have Surprised People To Discover That Time Flowed Outside Their Own Mental And Physiological Processes. Body Time Flows At Its Own Variable Rate, Oblivious To The Most Precise Hydrogen Master Clocks In The Laboratory. In Fact, The Human Body Contains Its Own Exquisite Time-pieces, All With Their Separate Rhythms. There Are The Alpha Waves In The Brain; Another Clock Is The Heart. And All The While Tick The Mysterious, Ruthless Clocks That Regulate Aging.

I Think All Tragedies Are Best Told With Some Humor. You Have To Relieve The Darkness To Let The Reader Get Through It. Also, That Life Has Happiness And Sadness Mixed Together. If You Told A Story That Was All Darkness, It Wouldn't Be Real.

If A Person Holds No Ambitions In This World, He Suffers Unknowingly. If A Person Holds Ambitions, He Suffers Knowingly, But Very Slowly.