Every so often I reflect on what the accumulation of time does to some people, and what it's done in particular to...well, friends and family, of course, but hotshots I've run into over the years and especially the occasional supernovas. I began thinking about Jack Nicholson a couple of days ago. William Faulkner's concept of eternity will always apply ("the past is never dead...it's not even past"), but the more it sinks in the more the present seems to concurrently intensify.
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