[The following poem was written by the Hybrid posse in a seriously
jet-lagged condition in the middle of the night and was presented on
the following day at the Fast Forward Paper Preview session at
SIGGRAPH 2003 in San Diego. We apologize.]


	O, the bloody causality
	it truly is a pity
	that even in this city near the border
	things must happen in an order

	Discontinuities being the game
	transparency my middle name
	who's gonna sort it all out?
	A solution is needed, no doubt - 
	a fix, a hack, something clever,
	the tricks, the crack, a daring endeavor

	Detection while waiting
	comfortably stating
	a new line-up, a new order
	simple as a tape recorder

	Mr. Zed Buffer referenced in the second caption
	closing in on action
	holding the chair, handling the peek,
	delaying the stream, stalling the creek

	Where the triangles?
	Was there a theft?
	Probably so,
	but who needs the hidden load?