<nettime> Out of the Mouths of Babes

[BishopZ <xchicago@gmail.com>]

Out of the Mouths of Babes

He clenched the delicate feather quill and inkwell as Tuesday, his
trusted steed, galloped on through the forest at night. "Dear Town" he
began in elegant calligraphy, "I have written you once and will write
you again tomorrow". Twice now the town received these letters - they
know the author well - they share a general amazement at his skill.

The whole scene having to happen on a boat traveling from 50º 179º to
50º -179º across the international date line. Such that both his
horse's name and the day in which both letters were sent matched
gregorianly.

So you can imagine a floating island in which time and names coincide,
and this courier delivering.

Cluefully yours,
Everyman




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