Stolen time in a stolen world with stolen eyes with which to look at it. The strangeness of it all, you see beauty and hear foreign laughter, I see sickness, a factory-made smile that brought disease. Imagine being entombed for centuries in some great pyramid, explorers hand-in-hand, bayonets; walking in grave dust, funny looking people from Norway or Greece, the air is alive with sulfur and poison, the Arabs and their war-camels cluster up like bees near the hive, legionaries and mercenaries, tanks and planes flying, the passing armies among the desert are the same as the passing red sands in the cold, hateful dark.