As a child of War I affirm my evolutionary ascendence.
Once, it is true, that a fine lady gave me a silver coin. I was a child, I lived in the slums. She was beautiful, wise and kind. You know her. I put it with a medal I found half-buried in the wet sand that a drill rig dredged up. Dread naught.
And we see now how other children propose to repay that same kindness, the coin of a great jubilee. Let them be ranked, not by institution. But by the number of zeroes and number of years their prodigy can repay.
Once, it is true, that a fine lady gave me a silver coin. I was a child, I lived in the slums. She was beautiful, wise and kind. You know her. I put it with a medal I found half-buried in the wet sand that a drill rig dredged up. Dread naught.
And we see now how other children propose to repay that same kindness, the coin of a great jubilee. Let them be ranked, not by institution. But by the number of zeroes and number of years their prodigy can repay.
Last edited: