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This from the good Doctor...
I recently had a conversation with a colleague about the vaguities of time. We agreed that the Present does not exist, only the Here&Now, which is a far-more meaningful phrase than “Present”. The Present implies yesterday, the day before yesterday, today, seconds, minutes, hours, days. Here&Now is here and now and it races at the speed of light into the Past, not with seconds or nanoseconds but with quarks, and the particles that make up quarks, and, Hadron help us, the particles that make up those particles. The Future races at the speed of light into the Here&Now and we know where that goes. We have a memory of the Past, but we have no memory of the Future. That’s our agony, because we’re dimwits. My colleague does not like to be called that even though she agrees that she is a dimwit. Everything that has ever existed is in the Past. And we have a memory of the Past. The Past exists infinitely. It is multi-directional, multi-dimensional. In our sentience, our self-awareness, the Past answers the only heart-throbbing questions that matter: Who are we? Where are we? What are we doing? The answers merge like sperm into ovum and give birth to the pregnant question of Why? Without a memory of the Future, there is no answer, only a surrounding, overwhelming futility.
Poor baby. Our sentience races at the speed of light into the Past.
Oh my darling Clementine, You are lost and gone forever.
It is a futility more futile than futility itself. Albert Einstein, Edwin Hubble, Stephen Hawking, Pogo, and Lenny Bruce, all understood this. They were not dimwits… we are. The futility of it all spins our heads like smurf balls. We reach an apparent end and our memory of the Past only tells us where we’ve been. But what if we do indeed have a memory of the future? It is said that a large mass of gray matter under our scalps is dormant, unused. It’s not. Like the smurf balls of our heads, that gray mass is romping its neurons like teeny, tiny smurfie balls. It has the memory of the Future racing through at the speed of light.
Futility be damned.
I love you Clementine.
Thank you.
Dr. D.D. Dimwit, Ph.D.
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Writings
