Sunday morning I wake up and it’s still dark outside. The clock says 5:17, which means it’s already past eight in New Orleans. If Patrick Willis is up, then so am I. Wait, is Louisiana two or three hours ahead? The new math — who can keep up? Didn’t Ben Franklin invent daylights savings time? Or was it Copernicus? That’s the problem with history, a clutter of names and dates designed to obfuscate and confuse the dominant paradigm, which is only the dreary cliché of the rich and powerful keeping their sharp, smelly heels on the throats of those who would otherwise be free.
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