From the Official program:

It is the year 2000 . . . the mechanics of livelihood are more complex but living itself is less complicated.  Civilization has found its most rewarding goal in its most pure element -- the family.  Outside the home, life is fast. . . a pulsing world controlled by the tireless persistence of electronic machinery.

Your step into the huge Washington State Coliseum is a step into the next century. . . over the threshold of the World of Century 21.  You are an eyewitness to the future.

The exciting and revealing Century 21 theme theatre occupies the center of the vast Coliseum floor and rises nearly to the roof.  You -- one of a hundred viewers at a time -- ascend to the apex of the theatre in a sperical elevator.  Then begins a twenty-one minute visual drama of tomorrow's life.  Voices and lightning compel you to move down the corridors through the exhibit.

The perciptive show in the theme theatre makes it one of the most memorable attractions at the fair.  But there are equally intriguing exhibits on the ground floor of the Coliseum.

You see pure science at work, discovering and giving impetus to technological advance.  And likened with this dual function of the research age, in the exhibit provided by France, is the humanistic effect of science . . . it's impact on philosophies of the living and the reasoning of men.

Prototypes of automatic highways and air bearing vehicles and turbine automobiles, as envisioned by advanced concept of transportation over the earth.  And the Pan American World Airways exhibit of supersonic air travel demonstrates circumnavigation of the world in minutes.  The American Library Association, in concert woth a dozen corporations, displays the fantastic developments in the library of the future.

All the world comes within the reach of any man, with the next century's great strides in communication.

This is the World of Century 21 . . . a vital, searching, rewarding, comfortable home for humankind.

You rise to the theme theatre -- the World of Tomorrow -- in the bubble-shaped elevator, bathed in pearly light.  "What time is it?" asks a young voice.  From somewhere overhead comes the answer: "It is now . . .  and again. Today and tomorro's today.  It is your time, child of the ever-present future."

In a shimmer of golden light, you enter the World of Century 21.  It is a rainbow-hued world of cubed facades . . . optomistic, yet realistically aware of present-day threats.

Image follows image in the vista-drama of light and sound as you enter the first chamber: you see the Acropolis in all its splendor, Babe Ruth, the Empire state Building, St. Peter's in rome, Marilyn Monroe.  The Wright brothers' first plane soars overhead.

Suddenly, throught the soft blue light of springtime, you see a circle shaped city of Century 21.  Beams from the city's jetport searchlights probe the skyline slender fingers.

Then comes a burst of yellow-golden summer sunlight and a home unlike any other you have seen appears.  You notice the indoor swimming pool and garden, the private heliport, the way your home of tomorrow rotates to take advantage of the sun.  You marvel at the slip-proof bathroom, wall to wall television and flick-of-the switch windows.

"Does it have a radar controlled supersonic, neutronic fission freezer?"  It is a woman's voice.

"I'm not wise enough to predict all the inventions of tomorrow," comes the answer.  "But certainly you'll have undreamed of conveniences.  Your kitchen will be a miracle of push-button efficiency.  Your telephone will be cordless.  You'll see who you are talking to.  You'll change the interior colors of your home to suit your mood."

Instantly, the lighting of the home before you changes to create a new, equally attractive decor.

Now you are in a rust-red world of autumn.  A commuter's gyrocopter comes into view, its motor emitting hardly more than a purr.  You gaze, fascinated, at cars with engines the size of a typewriter, planes that fly to any spot in the world in an hour's time, rocket belts that enable a man to stride thirty feet.

"We'll work shorter hours," your mysterious guide continues.  "We'll have more time for art, sports and hobbies.  Some of us will fly; some drive our air cars.  But most of us will use rapid transit jet-propelled monorail systems."

The scene changes to reveal an office of tomorrow, its computers producing a metallic cacophony of sound.  Automatic door openers, self-correcting office machines and TV telephones are as commonplace as today's typewriter.

"Executives of the next century will earn a minimum of twelve thousand dollars a year for a twenty-four hour work week," you are told.

The lights dim . . . brighten to focus on a huge farm of tomorrow, its orchards and crops protected by a vast dome.

"Our scientists have developed new foods rich in protein," the voice continues.  "The deserts are blooming.  We've tapped new, inexhaustible sources of food.  We farm the sea . . ."

You hear a little girl's voice.  "Why?  Where?  What for?  There's so much I want to know about yesterday, today and tomorrow."  Now you are in a school of tomorrow . . . its walls made of jets of air, its tables standing on invisible legs, its floating canvas roof controlled to catch the sun.  Memory-retention machines whir in the background.  Television screens mirror the day's lessions.

The snow no longer is falling.  Suddenly, spring blossoms and the illusion of a family huddling in fear of the bomb fades.

"What time is it?" asks a familiar voice.

As you leave the World of Tomorrow for the World of Today you hear the answer: "It is a good time . . . and almost yours."

The experience is vivid.  Shafts of color have illuminated another life -- an easy, gracious, stimulating futurre beyond tomorrow's tomorrow.  The time itself has been compressed so that you could stand on the threshold of Century 21.  You have glimpsed a bright day but you also have seen a lingering shadow imperiling its fulfillment -- the threat of present man's inhumanity to his fellows and to his children.

Cubicle by cubicle, the immense World of Tomorrow has been opened before you.  Your progress down the winding ramp of the theme theatre has been guided by intricate electronic programming.  The visions and voices telling the story repeat on an elaborate schedule every two minutes and fourty seconds, meeting each new group as it moves through.  And more than two thousand persons every hour see the show.

Never before has an exhibit combined the use of staging, timing and electronics on as large a scale.  The music and the actors' voices are carried on seven synchronized recordings.  The montages and motion pictures and lighting effects are controlled from three electronic bases.

The exhibit was begun only after extensive research of the advancements predicted by a variety of industries and scientists.  The new materials, methods and products shown in exhibit are certain to be realities by 2001.

The narrative was written to develop a theme of the future and to link the many phases of tomorrow's environment.  It touches on science, technology and plain common sense.  It is both hopeful and realistic in relating the opinion that today's vision is tomorrow's reward . . . today's haste is tomorrow's judgement.