marty and i driving in his mustang down wisemans ferry way, weaving the bends at an outrageous speed racing a dream bike from the future, welded to the road, country blurs past but slow enough to know it's beautiful out there, colourful birds with big personalities, the winding hawksberry river from pittwater to parramatta, you can apprehend the past here, aborigine landscape, sacred place, i want to stop and absorb it all, but speed drives me ever forwards in time.
the next day i'm in a bmw with tim tearing past the graveyard listening to the rolling stones, 'melody, was her second name' with the brilliant piano and that sexy horn section. we drive to the city where he drops me off. i wander down macquarie street where there's some kinda commotion and it's not lloyd cole, it's a whole bunch of hindus, technically sieks, celebrating a big festival, there are thousands of them, laughing and dancing, they have a huge computer display and hand out drinks and food and suddenly i'm one of them, laughing and chatting, admiring turbans and the nice gowns, i pass through the crowd and head to the bookshop where i pick up some jack mcdevitt and hunt down simon ings. heading back from the city with tim we look at the clouds, big powerful cumulus.
the night comes and i'm looking at stars as i walk with evan down the street to newport for dinner, we go through our usual topics life the universe and everything, evan and i share a passion for 'dark side of the moon' it's our favourite piece of human art, it's the one object that we believe should represent humanity, send it into space i say while evan says, leave it buried in a time capsule so it will survive our future and one day when visitor archeologists trawl the ruins they will find it and appreciate there was some intelligent life here.