“From nothing
to nothing is no time at all.” John Steinbeck
Midnight was still some way off and the party was dragging, so I had the idea to
turn the clock forward. As The Monster Raving Loony Party had realised in their
proposal to decimalise time (thereby ingeniously banishing the cold months of
January and February forever!) a time and date is only a number, so in the
spirit of Interstellar why not bend
it?
Formalities over early, we
wandered back to Dave’s flat to catch Jools Holland’s (ironically pre-recorded)
Hootenanny. As Jools’ guests reviewed their year, Dave and I turned our attention
to the future.
“I resolve to spend more
quality time with my son,” I boldly stated.
“I’ve got some good news for
you that may help,” Dave said. “This year the authorities are going to give
us an extra second.”
This was true, but
alarmingly nothing to do with an election year, but rather a deceleration in
the Earth’s rotation!
“Outside the minds of
Christopher Nolan or Stephen Hawking this extra second will pass largely
unnoticed, save for a few computer programmers who will be having millennium
bug flashbacks.”
Dave paused before venturing
deeper into the gathering fog of Prosecco: “Time flies when you are having fun
or drags when you are bored, but perception of time in our memory works the
opposite way, so a year spent travelling seems longer in memory than a year at
the office. Time becomes meaningless without memory and we humans have a unique
consciousness that allows us to live in the past or the future, which is
actually more of a curse than a useful superpower.”
“My cat has a memory – she
remembers where she lives and how to work the cat flap,” I argued.
“Maybe, but cats don’t make
New Year’s resolutions. They don’t even know what time it is, or how old they
are. They are blissfully unaware that they have only a finite time in which to
finish their ‘to do’ list.”
“Actually my cat’s New
Year’s resolution is to sleep more”, I added unhelpfully.
Ignoring my flippancy Dave
reached towards the CD player. As minimalist piano notes began to loop
hypnotically, he asked “What do you hear?”
“Nothing?” I suggested.
“…Or everything?” Dave
countered mysteriously. “Your ear expects questions and answers. But that
relies on memory and expectation in our regular horizontal time frame. But here
the usual waves of tension and resolution are missing. You are left with
nothing upon which to hang your perception of the passing of time!”
I was starting to feel
dizzy.
“Your awareness begins to
focus on previously invisible details as you leave behind ordinary horizontal
time and enter the magical realm of vertical time. Being fully present in the
moment, that’s true quality time, that’s how you can resolve to make that extra
second with your son count!” he concluded with a flourish.
I wasn’t sure about the
music expanding vertical time but it was certainly having a profound effect; I
had to ask Dave to turn it off – it was making me feel sick.