"According to the Time Dragon Clock, the Melting occurred at the Thirteenth Hour; the direct result of a bucket of water, thrown by a female child..."

All souls are eternally one minute from salvation or damnation, from that moment when the Time Dragon will awaken and burn away the whole universe that he has dreamt into existence.

The Time Dragon Clock is a fixture of the Wicked incarnation of the Land of Oz, and serves as both a religious icon of hedonism and as an allegory for mass media. It both judges and does not care, for it is of clockwork and has no heart; it passes prophesies to the watching masses along with mindless entertainment. And its followers will do whatever the Clock demands of them; a warning of the dangers of herdlike acceptance of the media, or a warning of the underlying viciousness that can hide under even the most permissive and hedonistic of societies.

This fantastic creation is a full 45 inches from wingtip to wingtip, and about that again from the head to the tail. It, which I have named Kloktik, is made of box cardboard, acrylic paint, liquid eyeliner, glue, double-sided tape, air-dry clay, nailpolish and brass tacks. It dominates the entire wall above my computer desk. And stares. And stares.