---------------------------- [excerpt from Chronicles, by Bob Dylan. Simon & Schuster, 2004.] ------------------------
I didn't know what age of history we were in nor what the truth of it was. Nobody bothered with that. If you told the truth, that was all well and good and if you told the un-truth, well, that's still well and good.
Folk songs had taught me that.
As for what time it was, it was always just beginning to be daylight and I knew a little bit about history, too - the history of a few nations and states - and it was always the same pattern.
Some early archaic period where society grows and develops and thrives, then some classical period where the society reaches its maturation point and then a slacking off period where decadence makes things fall apart.
I had no idea which one of these stages America was in.
There was nobody to check with.
A certain rude rhythm was making it all sway, though.
It was pointless to think about it.
Whatever you were thinking could be dead wrong.