The newspaper is a shared heartbeat among all people. Our zeitgeist, my times; can you imagine a reunion of cosmic ghosts? Shadows of a planetful of people will converge. Oh, look at the fools that live today! How attached they are to what belongs to us. Rightfully. These were our stomping grounds. Some of us starved to death on the bare earth and others slept on beds sprinkled with petals, but we all encircled our globe somehow and carried this nebulous thing called a generation between us until the last of us passed. The world of 2007! The cadaverous babies about to be ripped apart by vultures, the beautiful famous people we all talked about, the hurricanes, the births, the deaths, our songs, and the twinkling of the lights of all our cities, villages and cigarettes! The noise we made! The 2007 noise! I saw you dying on TV! You killed my family! I ate a potato you grew! I sang songs you wrote! I breathed in your rotting flesh! We lived together! 2007 was the real Planet Earth, not this bunch of pretend people that think they’re oh-so happening just because they are the present. Gather ’round, my shadows. A great tie binds us together. We will read our newspaper again.

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