Categories
Musings

A Tangle of Clothes Hangers

By Mario Fenech

There are many great cinematic representations of time such as the 1960 George Pal version of the Time Machine and from the same period  the Time Travellers ( which was remade as the inferior Journey to the Centre of Time some years later) had some interesting juxtapositions near the end. But the sequence that has stuck in my head is from Kubrick’s 2001 a Space Odyssey, where a shattering glass is used to convey the passage of subjective time for Bowman. For the majority of living things, time is a subjective concern,  a relative few spend most of their lives looking at the cosmic scheme of things — philosophers,  scientists and writers.

Aristotle differed from Plato and over the centuries there were many unique  interpretations ranging from bleak existential views to epic works comfortingly tied to Madeleines. Our concept of time is reinforced by popular  culture. A 1960 film titled When the Clock  Strikes, is about a criminal condemned to be executed at midnight. It’s a stormy night and an assortment of characters converge on Cady’s place not far from the prison where the convicted murderer will be hung. Cady’s is a convenient place to shelter from the storm for a juror who is wracked with guilt that he might have sent an innocent man to the gallows. He has an opportunity to convey his concerns when the warden calls on the way to prison. Also there is a woman pretending to be the wife of the condemned man and somehow a man struggles through the stormy night and arrives at Cady’s to announce that he is the guilty one but he is too late to stop the execution as the phone lines are down. The rest of the movie deals with a plan to somehow get the stolen money the deceased man had hidden. This is a good example of how time hangs over our existence, providing motivation and sometimes pushing us to the limits of endurance rather than be beaten by the relentless arrow of time.

Newton ‘s Universe served us well until the electron microscope focused attention on the underlying structure of the Universe. No longer could we accept that the Universe functioned like clockwork as in the languorous days gone by. Even Einstein knew that, for want of a better word, ‘spooky’ things were happening at a sub-atomic level. The Universe is essentially  vast amounts of information.  In the 20th century, devices were invented to record sound and visual information . These devices proved invaluable to scientific research as well as arts a and entertainment. Scientific and creative minds found ways of mixing, compressing and manipulating information in much the same way that information goes through various transformations in a cosmic setting such as event horizon of a black hole for instance. The Universe is composed of sequences of information , timelines branching in all directions.  Some entities will follow one timeline while others will sample multiple timelines. On a quantum level, time foam can occur under the right conditions and elsewhere there are shards of time and no doubt there is time that resembles the contents of a document shredder.

This is the 21st century and we should have mastered time with all the technological marvels at our disposal. Modern transport can get us from A  to B so much quicker, at least it would if only governments would spend enough on infrastructure so we did not spend so much time in traffic jams. AI should be facilitating a more a meaningful existence but algorithms can be time wasters when corporations use them to maximise profits. At a time when there are record numbers of lonely people someone comes up with the bright idea of creating a virtual reality where participants interact with avatars creating another wedge between people and the real world. Such virtual worlds can attract people predisposed to such immersion.  Gambling addicts can spend days, weeks, years, gambling on poker machines. The tragedy is playing out right now as these individuals lose their partners,  families and souls to the machines. It’s a limbo world where nothing meaningful happens. Lost time.

Scientists say the concept of time was invented by us to create a sense of order to our existence  but is time not a thing? We should make the most of  whatever devices are at our disposal to improve our lives and the lives of those around us. A meaningful existence is one that acknowledges that we are creatures like all other creatures on this planet and we are sustained  by this planet and the complex ecosystems around us.

The answers to the mysteries of time might be solved by  the collective wisdom of the world’s indigenous people. It might also come some time in the future in conversations with sperm whales at a depth of three thousand metres.

From Public Domain

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Mario Fenech is an artist, writer. His visual art is mainly sculptures and had many exhibitions around Melbourne over the years. His writing has been essentially science fiction ideas and most were short stories although he self-published a novella in 2013 titled, ‘The Rock in Room Ten’. He is currently two thirds into his latest science fiction story.

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PLEASE NOTE: ARTICLES CAN ONLY BE REPRODUCED IN OTHER SITES WITH DUE ACKNOWLEDGEMENT TO BORDERLESS JOURNAL

Click here to access the Borderless anthology, Monalisa No Longer Smiles

Click here to access Monalisa No Longer Smiles on Kindle Amazon International

Categories
Poets, Poetry & Rhys Hughes

Lines for Loons, Loonies, and Such-like…

SAILING AWAY

I sailed across the seas
balanced on my knees,
each kneecap in a little
toy boat and for sails the
flaps of my big raincoat,
open to catch the breeze.

TURNING THE DIAL

Nash your teeth in envy, Ogden,
when you read this rhyme
for I have turned the dial higher
on the daftness amplifier
and now it’s on eleven,
which is two more than nine.


WHAT WE CALL

I sometimes wonder
what we call a sea
in which a brave dog
swims desperately
through tempestuous
and perilous waves?

Rough! Rough!

CALLING MY BLUFF

Someone called my bluff
earlier today while I was
sunning myself in the park.
“Here boy! Good bluff!
Who’s a good bluff then?”

And it actually came running!
I have seen some weird
stuff in my time but never
a bluff that runs. That was
tough on my sense of fun.

CROOKED SMILE

Someone just told me
that I have an old crooked smile
and I must confess it’s true.
My smile embezzled
100 doubloons from
the East India Company in 1642

CHARGING MY PHONE

I am
charging
my phone.

The field is
a large one
but I think I’ll be able to
gore it before it reaches
the gate.


THE WINDS IN SEASON

Spring Summer Autumn Winter
do your worst, blow your best.
There’s a splinter in the sprinter.
North, South, East, and West.

Winter Spring Summer Autumn
put your boots on and come forth.
Silver talons finally caught them.
East, West, South, and North.

Autumn Winter Spring Summer
scrub the dishes for the feast.
Fools in clover are made dumber.
South, North, West, and East.

Summer Autumn Winter Spring
Arch an eyebrow, gape a mouth.
Hark the harps unattended sing.
East, West, North, and South.

SCIENTIFIC POETRY

Newton with a suit on
Einstein eating limes
Archimedes in a tree
and that’s just three
who rhyme.

Von Neumann in a bath
Faraday on a trampoline
Gödel playing castanets
and that’s just three
who don’t.


MY BROTHER


My brother
is captain
of a soccer team
and he wants me to play
in goal. And he says
that if I refuse
they will lose the game
and he’ll weep
and do some other
melodramatic things.
But why should I
oblige him?
Am I my brother’s
keeper?


AS A SPOON

I went
to a fancy
dress party
yesterday.

Most of
the evening
remains
a blur.

But I know
that I was
the only man
in the room
dressed as
a spoon.

Caused quite a stir.



THE BAD BANDIT

The bad bandit
has been banned
from banditry
because his moustaches
when twirled
got out of hand
on his face.

So he joined a band
in which he plays
a rubber band mandolin
and now it’s only girls
who twirl on the
dance floor during
the encore.

Not his whiskers anymore.

Rhys Hughes has lived in many countries. He graduated as an engineer but currently works as a tutor of mathematics. Since his first book was published in 1995 he has had fifty other books published and his work has been translated into ten languages.

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PLEASE NOTE: ARTICLES CAN ONLY BE REPRODUCED IN OTHER SITES WITH DUE ACKNOWLEDGEMENT TO BORDERLESS JOURNAL

Click here to access the Borderless anthology, Monalisa No Longer Smiles

Click here to access Monalisa No Longer Smiles on Amazon International