. The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog. This is no test. The word is PANGRAM which allows the dogs in the neighbourhood to do their thing in one scoop while the Grub Street guys search each nostril and venture a pet project to be a time squanderer. We assume foxes deserve better, so The Great Petition grows, chickens are turned out, farmers get paid to chill, youngsters set sail to catch tuna fish with nothing but a smile and a few errant chicks— Meanwhile, another generation will fret and complain and subdivide, leave the dead unburied, and crucify the clergy to justify brutality, and a world of hurt— The stuff of fiction, truths perhaps, entertainment then? Lines we must cross nevertheless; our exhausted mounts. The Rube will always flow in our hearts. Some other Romeo & Juliet must die so our vile iniquity might escape the mundane. The stage of our microscope. The projector becomes our soul. The Heart of Story—Judgement Day, our metal. Die Hard .
