The past is the past. We hurtle through the eternal present. There is a certain amount of continuity, but not nearly as much as we think there is. The physical content of our bodies is totally replaced every…well, some figure that would astound you; I’m too lazy to look it up. Well, I was. That moment’s over. All typing should be done in the past tense: by the time the words appear onscreen, the moment’s passed. I was tiping this. Now I was typing this. I mean THEN I was typing this. Actually the present is even faster than my thoughts, such as they are. Were. I’m gaving myself a headache. I think I will have stopped now/then.