Our parents sped along the road of our advancing civilization, ignorant of the broken bridge ahead. They fled the golden glow of farmutopia, entered the silver shadow of Pandora's Shop, gave birth to us among mechanical and electrical toys--and now we wander in this great white out, a blindness which we are passing onto our children who are our green hope. History will not absolve us unless we change. While chronologically clear and analogically appealing, don't let the style fool you--I promise a raucous, ironic, sardonic, sarcastic, rollicking ride with flashbacks and fast-forwards that might spin out of control. Hang on