Suddenly, Lord's seems so long ago, Cardiff almost another era. Hell, day one here seems a distant memory, categorised merely as bad. So much has happened since, almost all of it diabolical for Australia, and still it is only the second evening. It's been a long week in Birmingham, these past two days.
Remember back even further, when Michael Clarke was in his pomp? Treasure the memory; you may not see it again. On Wednesday, Clarke was out to a ball he once would have played blindfolded, cutting away, but short enough for him to have kept his bat's edge out of harm's way. Frankly, he looks a beaten man. 
Remember when no one could get Steve Smith out? Two whole weeks ago? Remember when Australia had a batting order, not a trio? In three Tests in this series, Australia have realised only one half-century from below No.3. Remember Steve Finn two years ago? He looked so finished that when he reappeared here, you had to wonder whether he had been recalled or exhumed. Lazarus, eat your heart out. Bringing the ball down at great pace from a great height and causing to rise again at great pace at least to an awkward height, he got Clarke fending and Smith pulling in his vindication bag of five. It was his second Clarke-Smith double of the match.
Remember, back on Wednesday, Jimmy Anderson's superlative display, when he was going like a surf break goes, curling this way and that, and no Australian could stay aboard. He was at it again on Thursday, until a side strain suddenly forced him to abandon play.
After David Warner's pugnacious half-century, it was Australia's only gain on the day. England could afford to excuse him here, but will be anxious for him to be there when it is 0-0 at the start of next week's fourth Test at Trent Bridge.
Even Thursday morning seems impossibly long ago now. In the first over then, Mitch Johnson bowled two frightening balls to dismiss Jonny Bairstow and Ben Stokes, who each could play only with an involuntary twitch. A hush fell on Edgbaston, broken only by some respectful applause for Johnson, and for a moment, it felt as though Australia were back in the game. We should have known it would only be the start.
It was the first of 14 wickets for the day, more even than on day one. The whole match - if you can say whole - has tumbled along as if unable to get out of its own way.
The chronic impatience is demonstrated by the extraordinarily high incidence of a wicket falling in the first over of a spell, and sometimes the first ball, and often the first ball from one bowler to one batsmen. It happened for Nathan Lyon in his first three overs, and for Finn almost every time he came on, and last and most significantly for Anderson when he came back to deal with Warner. But double-figure overs also have been commonplace.
Even the day's seeming counterpoint was in character. The 87 runs Moeen Ali and Stuart Broad put on for England's eighth wicket was by far the biggest stand of the match, and crucial to its unfolding. But it was scarcely a case of tailenders going all dogged and rearguard. The gnomish Ali, who you imagine chuckles to himself as he bats, gives you a chance while taking his, and the gangling Broad always has been an exasperating proposition as a batsman, and they did their match-changing business in barely 70 minutes.
This is the helter-skelter way cricket is now played. The first two matches, on flat farts, each finished inside four days and this one, which would once have been called a fair pitch for all, briefly looked as though it would not last more than two. There have been no lulls, no stand-offs, merely pauses for breath. When Australia was on top at Lord's, they could justify it. All-out aggression is the way they play, we're constantly told. But here, it has made them look silly.
The bowlers spent runs they did not have, the batsmen made a fire sale of their wickets. Remember containment? No bowler other than Lyon and to a certain extent Mitch Marsh could manage it, and England's key batsmen rattled along at a strike rate of 84. Remember application, that quaint virtue? Only Warner, in his own patent way, showed it, and at the end of the day the admirable Peter Nevill, whose unbeaten 37 is the second-longest innings by an Australian in the match.
Remember technique? On this English pitch, this has been Australia's most egregious failing. Chris Rogers has it, innately. Nevill showed enough of it at least to let the ball go. Warner compensates with lightning quick hands, which means he not only can adjust to the ball's movement, but can flick it almost anywhere he likes. In this way, he made 77 from just 62 balls without ever looking like he was in a hurry. But even his hands weren't quick enough to whip Anderson from off to leg, and he skied a catch.
Otherwise, Australia has looked ill-equipped. You could say, for instance, that Finn pierced Marsh's defence, but really, fairy floss could have pierced it. At least Shane Watson would have got enough in the way for it to go to a referral.
Remember when you could rely on the weather in England? Here, it has conspired doubly. Rain pre-match and the way it impacted on pitch preparation helped to condemn Australia, but now there is none around, or forecast, to save it. After Lord's, I wrote that Australia's victory was worth 1\xC2&#189; wins, so vast was a margin. Arguably, this win will be worth two for England, giving it a lead of 3-to-1\xC2&#189;. For one thing, Australia's reinforcements are thin. If they make one change to the batting, it will be Shaun Marsh for Adam Voges. If it is to be two, the only other spare batsmen is Watson.
But more to the point, England has a blueprint. In a made-to-order environment (whether or not it was ordered), it has thoroughly outplayed Australia, for no more cost than a few palpitations when facing Johnson. If the Trent Bridge pitch for the fourth Test did not look like a cabbage patch on Thursday morning, you can be pretty certain it does now. In England, only the bean-counters will be grumpy.