As the turn of the millennium approaches, our minds tend to linger on the past, our senses are roused by the future, and our bodies are ever so keenly aware of being alive here and now. We are preoccupied with the paradoxes of time and time-keeping systems, seeking answers to the questions they pose and unsolved mysteries they contain.

Who am I? A mover of events, an architect of history, an author of what is of essence or a mere sliver, one among many, tossed about by the torrents and whirlpools of time.

Or perhaps I am simply a button, whose mission is to hold, to secure and to signify, attached to a coat whose possibilities I cannot begin to fathom.

The 20th century, with its tremendous achievements in science and technology and devastating moral defeats, will soon recede into history. The six billion earthlings will be heir not only to the miracles of genetic engineering and information highways, but also to the bloody legacy of the Holocaust, Soviet Gulags and Pol Pot.

As much as we would desire to step into the new millennium pure and guiltless, we are but a button held fast to the coat of our past.