The rock of ages, long since worn to dust, sits as the spent sands of time in the bottom of the glass.

History is dead.

That which is done is that which was done is that which will be done again and again and again.

And that which is documented is that which was documented is that which will be documented again and again and again.

And that which is discovered is that… well… you know.

History is dead.

Genesis Exodus Gospel Revelation Genesis Exodus Gospel Revelation Genesis Exodus Gospel Revelation

And the sacred text that tells us that history is dead will be lost and buried forever and found and revealed as the script of a time team special racing against time to retrieve the secrets of the past that will tell us that history is dead.

And the Modern Age is dead.

And the new and the fast and the loud and the large may be good

And the newer and the faster and the louder and the larger may be not.

And Genesis is no genesis

And Exodus is no exodus

And Gospel is no gospel

And Revelation… well… you know.

And the Modern Age is dead.

And the people putting energy into making labour-saving devices can work no harder to save their lives.

And the machines making machines to make machines to make machines will learn no more than how to make machines.

And the dreams of the dreamers and the thoughts of the thinkers and the realisations of the realisers are no more ideal than the ideal ideal.

And the modern age is dead.

And the Post-modern Age, which is really the Modern Age gaining self-awareness, is dead.

For the post-production process remixing the Modern Age to a modern interpretation of the timeless beat was set in motion long before.

And the post-apocalyptic nightmare wasteland wilderness emptiness void stillness

Peace

And all the infinite pieces of peace

Lingering

Have been lingering since long before the Big Bang.

And the post-coital pleasure of self-referencing social intercourse was set in place to serve the cause of self-awareness long before any awareness of self.

And the Post-modern Age, which is really the Modern Age gaining self-awareness, is dead.

And rock’n’roll is dead.

And the youth of youth is dead.

And younger is no more rock’n’roll and louder is no more rock’n’roll and faster is no more rock’n’roll and badder is no more rock’n’roll and more rock’n’roll is no more rock’n’roll and rock’n’roll is no more

For rock’n’roll is dead.

And getting high is no longer the way to get high for that particular peak has been climbed

And there’s only one Edmund Hilary and there’s only one Sherpa Tenzing.

And going wild is no longer the way to go wild for wild is the mind

And there’s only one Lancelot and there’s only one Lemmy.

And mad is no longer mad, and excess is no longer excess,

And there’s only one Keith Moon, touch me, heal me

And there’s only one Keith Richards, and I try and I try

And rock’n’roll is dead.

And death is no longer death.

And there’s only one Jimi Hendrix, lately things don’t seem the same,

And there’s only one John Lennon, living life in peace,

And there’s only one Ian Curtis, apart, again,

And there’s only one Janis Joplin, cry, baby, cry,

And there’s only one Freddie Mercury, little high, little low,

And there’s only one Marc Bolan, diamond star halo,

And there’s only one Sid Vicious, he’s something else,

And there’s only one Otis Redding, sitting, watching,

And there’s only one Brian Jones, and I try and I try,

And there’s only one Jim Morrison, my only friend, the end,

And there’s only one Kurt Cobain, oh well, whatever, nevermind,

And there’s only one Elvis

And Elvis is dead

And death is no longer death

And Elvis is dead

And death is no longer death

And Elvis is dead

And the American trilogy of

That’s Alright Now Mama,

One Night and

American Trilogy

Is dead.

And death is no longer death.

Glory, Glory, Hallelujah.

Michael James Parker

21^st April, 2002