When Belief In A God Dies, The

There In The Midst Of The Amazon Jungle, Simon Haskell Has Cobbled Up For Himself A Replica Of An Art Deco Salon.

Uh, Excuse Me, Sir, I, Uh, Don't Known How To Uh, To Uh, Tell You This, But You Were Three Minutes Late. The Schedule Is A Little, Uh, Bit Off." He Grinned Sheepishly. "that's Ridiculous!" Murmured The Ticktockman Behind His Mask. "check Your Watch." And Then He Went Into His Office, Going Mrmee, Mrmee, Mrmee, Mrmee.

Why Let Them Order You About? Why Let Them Tell You To Hurry And Scurry Like Ants Or Maggots? Take Your Time! Saunter A While! Enjoy The Sunshine, Enjoy The Breeze, Let Life Carry You At Your Own Pace! Don't Be Slaves Of Time, It's A Helluva Way To Die, Slowly, By Degrees...down With The Ticktockman!

I Was The Green Monkey, The Pariah. And I Had No Friends. Not Just A Few Friends, Or One Good Friend, Or Grudging Acceptance By Other Misfits And Outcasts. I Was Alone. All Stinking Alone, Without Even An Imaginary Playmate.

The Ability To Dream Is All I Have To Give. That Is My Responsibility; That Is My Burden. And Even I Grow Tired.