Friday, November 5, 2021


Most people conceive of a timeline, albeit of a Borgesian sort, a ruler with infinite gradations. Naturally this presupposes a continuum. After all a straight line is the shortest distance between two points, but there are all kinds of limitations, the foremost being consciousness which presupposes faith in the notion of a before and after. Does the afterlife which flirts with eternity in terms of either salvation or damnation play by the same rules? The very notion of forward progression is disingenuous in the face of the divine which is by definition unknowable. The classic conception of linear time may turn out to be a little like Newtonian physics when contrasted to quanta in terms of accounting for exigencies which defy visual observation. What kind of time do bosons exist in? What's time at the event horizon of a black hole or in the plasma of some unknown cosmic ether or soup? Time may turn out to be provincial, the watersheds of life like the faded signposts on a country road. "What time is it" is not an easy question to ask when you've departed from the Euclidian coordinates of here and now.

Read "The Final Solution: Trump's Tweets and Black Holes," by Francis Levy, HuffPost

and listen to Gene Chandler singing "Duke of Earl"

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