ON TIME, IN

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“Time,” the Sage tells me morosely, “is the medium of change.” And he should know, time has certainly changed him. I remember when he was but a pup (as it were) and now I keep tripping over his blasted beard. Honestly, some wise men … (he knows his onions though).

I discovered a couple of hours ago that one of my all-time heroes passed away a few days back.

Just another nutter. No-one will miss him … he’s the guy who had an idea, got it checked out by a fully credentialed geologist who apparently was unanimously backed up by an entire conference (which alone should have wiped the smirk of the face of a few other experts) but I won’t tell if you don’t—

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—and nothing is more predictable than the reaction of the experts to some of the stuff put forward by the late Mr J. A.West.

NOT THAT IT MATTERS

a damn anyway. I mean, who gives a hoot if the great Sphinx of Giza is a few thousand more years (ten, anybody?) older than we were taught pounded with at school? So?

SO MOVING ON

take a wee look at the NY World’s Fair of 1964. Sadly I’ve long since lost the 8mm movies and snaps I shot at the time but thanks to the miracle of modern science I pulled these in off the WWW—

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(Oh, wow~!)

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Vitality, anybody? Pizazz?

Hah! You should have seen the wee robots wandering about telling everyone the time …

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I REMEMBER IT

as being America at its best. Vital, optimistic, unashamedly brash, and very talented without fear of showing so. Superlatives abounded—

—and when Spouse and I went back recently, in time for the Millennium, our host drove me out to the site.

It was a bit further away than expected.

We got there pretty much at sunset; daylight fading almost as fast as memories. We were the only souls abroad, no sign of nobody nowhere—which suited my mood perfectly.

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Time has certainly done his work here. There. Everywhere …

Bastard …

… but that’s just the way of it. Without the use of maths and/or science (okay, possibly just a little) I’ve developed my own ideas on time and space which I shan’t spout here lest alarmed people track me down and send hordes of nice men in white coats around to my house.

But at least I have the comfort of knowing that one John Anthony West (deceased) might have approved …

*         *         *

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dodododo               dodo

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