acknowledgements thanks to magherita without whom this book wouldnt have happened thanks to tom flood for editing and feedback thanks to kate hogan for editing and feedback thanks to anne smith for the faith thanks to phillip k. dick for inspiration thanks to peter carey for inspiration foreword sonnet 12 when i do count the clock that tells the time , and see the brave day sunk in hideous night ; when i behold the violet past prime and sable curls all silverd oer with white ; when lofty trees i see barren of leaves which erst from heat did canopy the herd , and summers green all girded up in sheaves , born on the bier with white and bristly beard ; then of thy beauty do i question make , that thou among the wastes of time must go , since sweets and beauties do themselves forsake , and die as fast as they see others grow ; and nothing gainst times scythe can make defence save breed , to brave him when he takes thee hence .