Are you sprinting into the future? Maybe you're slouching along, or limping, or groping blindly. Some of you optimists are no doubt hippity-hopping. Don't step on the slitherers or trip on the crawlers. Look at those stolid marchers: chins jutting out, pugnacious, determined. Me, I'm sauntering, feigning an air of nonchalance. We're such a ragged line, fumble-dancing through time. Watch out for those crazy sleep-walkers!