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45 Parousia —Gates Computer Science Building, Stanford, California, Anno. Dom. MCMXCVI Temples still adorned with ravishing ornament. Refulgent with gifts, dedicated to what have you. Nods to old emblems: cornice and verdigris house the incense of calculus wafting through immaculate, dimly lit hallways. A painter converts a barn into commodious studio, hayloft and high-ceilinged. It is very good. The days will come when not one stone will be left upon another. Save this now, stately Hoover Tower’s first-floor display glosses Great Depression thus: Blame it on dumb Coolidge . . . the klutz. Let this be inscribed in the scrolls of the land, as a stylus glides across Pentium-fed Palm Pilot: “Isn’t it plain to all— be thou my confusion —that these mounds were palaces?” Nation will rise against nation and kingdoms do battle. Enormous earthquakes, heaven’s signs. There will be opportunities to testify. Truly, truly. ...

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