Can’t fathom time?

It’s literally unfathomable.

100 years, perhaps a good lifetime?

1000 years, perhaps 10?

10k(thousand): 100?

100k-1000, 1MM(million)-10k,100MM-1MM…

1 million lifetimes. Unfathomable.

Yet “people” have been “thinking” for AT LEAST that long.

(https://phys.org/news/2022-06-fossils-cradle-humankind-million-years.html)

There’s some evidence that can’t be falsified.

Ponda-dat!

Carbon dating techniques aside….

One can’t deny that nature changes matter through the passage of time (((and that so far… no one’s figured out how we reliably change the directions/flows of time… well at least with reasonable consistency… or meaningful impact)))

and we can prove the difference between fraud paper dipped in tea and browned in the oven and a truly old piece of paper

(as a simplification for what could be a whole debate about “science”, but really, let’s just use ‘rational methods’ that are repeatable and hold true (not “not falsifiable”… i mean hold their truth in their weight or lack of weight or ideographic symboligismz, etc…) under all scrutiny as what I mean by “science”).

Have you ever wondered if some version of the human yearning for what technocrats are now trying to hold ownership over via hyperbolizing into ‘real existence’ - “metaverse”, hyperland, eylsian 737 plane, made into a grocery bag for ideas that died to be sold through, was always in humanity or is it something only the real assholes who survived keep trying to realize despite the baroco eggs imperfection which fell into fantastical boredom by rococo.

the metaverse "becomes real" when your eyes are fixed to percieve what you are told it now is.

Goggles slapped over heads to physically transport their minds into the ether world of bets of nets. alphabets too big to risk under one fragile corporate structure.

Almost the opposite of "silent majority" which really is just a scared and loud and angry overly-vocal minority (even whispers in the darkness are vocalizarions...)...

but shouts in the recorded courtroom hold a bit more weight through time...

People don’t converse anymore, they defer to their slabs and tomes; our own devices.

Even as the slab and tome shift dimensions, colors, symbols, reasons, in front of their eyes. mutating or lacking to, both are oddities to our pattern seeking eyes in the passage of time.

We understand and process short term matter changes, phases, but lose track of largest understandings like big goldfish brains over longer timeframes.

We repeat our histories mistakes over and over, with enough of a percentage of the hum-race holding onto enough of the prior generations learning to be better than fall into our prior ouchies, pitfalls, traps, prisons, and certain deaths.

Certain death had been a constant.

But now there’s the idea in the minds of our peoples, that there is a true “eternal”; not just the one that’s “spiritually true” or “heaven-like” afterlife forever-ease.

We have machines that take our words as input, transform them through models and layers of machined models and machine transformations, that we don’t always fully understand with sapien brain, into images stitched together from machinists machined models articulated across every which pose the machine can “ponder” (within its domain of “pondérantes”);

0-1

Or -10000-10000, across thousands of parameters of meaning and linkages of meaning and meaningfulness of the meanings of some determined meaninglessness that somehow makes for the quality of some likeness of reality, which can be resimulated with one’s and zeros…

Or created through spins of matter which retain time loops of changing states…

Sounds like pshychobabble, time-crystals… TIME CRYSTALS, yeah. That’s right!

People made real timecrystals less than a lifetime after imagining them.

Fathomable? Likely fathomable… but 1 million lifetimes of ideas ago? What have we lost?

What have we gained.

All of the most beautiful people who ever lived, have already died. It’s just statistics and math. Theres no aesthetic usage meant in the first sentence in this paragraph; purely throug statistics of millions of millions of millions of lifetimes, and what those lifetimes judged beauty to be... just staristics and math, all of you are beautiful people having read even this far...

i wonder. try to fathom?

Are we in an ugly cycle of humanity; do we have the capability of holding onto the memories from the good times, or do we just pass down our fears about the near deaths and dooms, and glooms that haunt us through time?

When you imagine the pacifistic and helpful robots getting into minor scuffles with the programmed to destroy all obstacles in their path mission-completing-fly-by-wire-bulletproof-by-design robots… and those scuffles escalate… who do you fathom will come out unscathed?

Likely the owners and interests of the destructo-bots, no?

Well I hope not! I hope some Superman pacifist happy-go-lucky save-humkind, berazzledazzles the destruct-robocrats; it’s what we’ve written in all the stories we tell the children and those in need of faiths - the Jesus type figure, allah, Joseph, Wonder Woman, idraseldbadasses… they have to win for enough of a percentage of the hum-race holding onto enough of the prior generations learning to be better than fall into our prior ouchies, pitfalls, traps, prisons, and certain deaths… to sleep well at night and pass on their learnings as broken-telephone as they become.

So in my imagined endgame-state-quantum-superpositioned big-crunch-inflation stuffs…

The good guy wins, right?

So… in the binaries we have distilled a lot of our history into the ones, not the zeros count for something. They’re not empty placeholders

they are one with electricity

But…

Are these machines being built to replicate our imagined gods and heavens?

Devs; Deus ex machina?

Defusex machin. Defuse transformed neural layers of blankets of sheetings passing their own 0, 1, 01’s, 10’s, etcz…

So when your sold something, by another one, why does or doesn’t it resonate with your one?

Cross multiplying motor cross fields, typically… I’d imagine… would result in a lot of moto-crashes.

Yet sometimes there’s no crash; just a perfect ballet, lucky timing, or choreographed performances.

But mistaken discernments of those non-crashes, warp already distanced perspectives back into binary.

Yes or no; I don’t have time… I can’t fathom it… don’t bother me with that shit… I can’t even… wat?

Dribble spits out of the mouths onto keyboards, through slippery fingers, not really able to discern their own “non-crashes”…

One car accident is 1000 others roadside attraction….

Back to immortality; away from death; societally somehow that’s become a thing; too much sadness- too much loss in a world where we have lossless…

Don’t remind me… I can’t even?

Can’t even what? Fathom it.

And if you can’t… don’t make legislation that limits other ones, when your memory will amount to an abysmally -1.

répondre if you please. Twitter tweet tweet; @signalinggatewS