Coming in September.
These people threaten to destroy one of the internet’s nicest things. Twitter is a happy accident, a fortuity, a quirk.
You could get this book now if you had a time machine. Then again, if you had a time machine you wouldn’t need the book.
“Gravity is weak,” Feynman said. “In fact, it’s damned weak.”
“Ghosts were seen when, for reasons unknown, they inadvertently slipped from their allotted time into the present.”
Is the public library as anachronistic as the record store, the telephone booth, and the Playboy centerfold?
Increasing numbers of Twitterers don’t even pretend to be human. Or worse, do pretend, when they are actually bots—tiny, skeletal, incapable robots, usually little more than a few crude lines of computer code. The scary thing is how easily we can be fooled.
Removing doubts about the meaning of time is an ambitious goal, but not too ambitious for the Queen and Parliament of Britain in 1880. They enacted the “Statutes (Definition of Time) Act” to settle the matter once and for all. So now we know. Or do we?