Time Machines

FTL travel? Worm holes? Gravity-assisted Super-String turns? It's all so relative. In the end, all it takes for me is to hear How Soon Is Now to be instantly transported back to my most surly, purple-jeaned, booted, rebellious, youthful self, knowingly (and ever-so-non- chalantly) requesting a "juice with" at a late-night, black-clad Baltimore dance club, its guts reeking of sweat, cobbled attitude, intentionally-over-fragrant perfume and, from time to time, a little bit of extra good luck. How's that for a time travel.

More: [Now that's one for the Bonfire --ed.]