20 Feb 23 #3 – Space=Time

The Chairman Rides Again & Space-Time with Dave Proffitt

We are pleased to present another gem of a poem from the Wannaskan Almanac’s own Friday/Sunday post-master, The Chairman. And yes, the drawing is also his!

The low February sun

Slowly eats the snow

And grazes beneath the small spruce trees

Its weight pushes my eyes onto the trail

Where our three deer have punched

Thousands of holes

And where their hundreds of

Warm olives have burrowed in

Space-Time

Today’s post continues to focus on time. Time. So many aspects. So many uncertainties. Quite a few manmade ways to measure it. But is time even an entity, or is it a human invention that serves our species’ need to organize? I’ll meet you at “x” o’clock. What would this mean if we didn’t have instruments of time – you know, like a watch or a sundial?

Here is a simple definition of time: In math, time can be defined as an ongoing and continuous sequence of events that occur in succession, from past through the present, and to the future. Time is used to quantify, measure, or compare the duration of events or the intervals between them, and even, sequence events. See? The event, i.e., two people meeting on a street corner, is actual; the time they meet is a fabrication.

That is an explanation of what time may be but note that time is more a tool and less an actual incident or phenomenon – something made up of natural or manmade elements. Time is an artificial measurement technique. In space, time operates quite differently than on a gravity-founded planet; however, it is still a tool, not an entity.  I know I am on extremely shaky scientific ground. Who cares? Simpletons have been right before.

Don’t take my word for it! Ask Einstein. He said, “time is an illusion.” To quote further: "People like us, who believe in physics know that the distinction between past, present, and future is only a stubbornly persistent illusion." Why did Einstein say that time is an illusion? He is referring to the apparent flow of time, that all space is three-dimensional, changing in place, as opposed to four-dimensional spacetime with equal ontological status with all events, not separated into being either past, present, or future.

In short, there is only the present.

Theoretical physicist, Carlo Rovelli, also states that time is an illusion and that our naive perception of its flow doesn't correspond to physical reality. 

There is no universally ticking clock. Newton also made a boo-boo.

Mr. Dave Proffitt

All that said, today, we present Dave Proffitt, poet, and self-described “citizen of the universe.” He’s out there – a poetic explorer of the cosmos. He even claims an intergalactic friend, Mr. Gray. This poet says, “I am a student of the universe and of its opposite, the quantum world. I am the storyteller.” Poet Proffitt’s work is hard to find online, but more of his “spacy” verse can be found here. We offer two of Mr. Proffitt’s poems. The second one is a story. It is long but stay with it. The extraterrestrial interchange is worth your time. (Ha!)

The Tendrils of Time

Twist ye not the tendrils of time

frame dragging by any other name

black holes ergosphere sublimes

pulls spacetime to its slow down game

Those clocks and our clocks not the same

Time's vector smeared along its timeline

speeds along its X axis game

Remains longer on its own line rhyme

Then around and around she goes

For this clock so smitten runs so slow

And where the hands stop nobody knows

Spacetime's drill bit twisted so

This black silken dress of spacetime

Wrapped around this gravity vortex

Twisted infinity sublimes

on the singularities’ cortex

Redshifts starlight to infinity

Photons below values of C

Their orange trails of light I see

These curved, stretched, these twisted banshees

Frozen in space these tendrils of time

My heart beats on ever so slow

This time signature of space aligns

reality to its queer clocks of woe

In front of me coasting along

a singular photon it’s brilliance

flitting like a firefly’s lonely song

wave-like in its own resilience

This photonic duplicity

particle now and a wave the next

surrenders its reciprocity

to this block of spacetime so vexed

Such are the tendrils of time here

to the black holes seductive embrace

These time signatures skewed so queer

From the Dark Mother’s fingers trace

As she smiles at me saying:

“Oh my beautiful child of wonder”

“Blessed be your love and curiosity”

“Of all my spells that you fall under”

“To you all of my precocity”

“So I bless thee and thy lady “Star”

“Your undaunting love of Michele

“Shines on in O Class from thee so far”

“I release thee from this spacetime spell”

These tendrils of time wound round

These whirlpools in space

These wonders of space found

In Michele’s beautiful face.

Dave Proffitt

9/10/2016

3:01 PM

Alien Poetry

I have a friend

from the interstellar

I call him Mr. Gray

He’s not like the rest

Just wants to talk

He’s not pulled

any mental tricks

on me

He talks inside

my mind

I fear his small

twisted mouth

could not form

English in any sort

of grace

much less

American versions of it

So his thoughts echo

inside the canyons

of my mind.

He’s respectful

of my private rooms

Never goes there

although he could

he’s gentle

respectful

His name

I cannot pronounce

I just call him Mr. Gray

he seems to like that

I don’t’ know how

he never smiles

his thoughts have

a warmth to them

when he replies

The other night

during his nocturnal

visits with me

he asked me a question

“David, what is this

assembly of various

pitches and tones?”

“It has a repeating

period to it?”

I was at a loss

momentarily

then somehow

he played back

a song to me

It was a song!

by Deep Purple

called Smoke on the Water!

I smiled at him

It’s a song!

I thought to him

more warmth from him

“What is a song David?”

“Well its what we

call music on earth

it helps us with life

and to some it is

a way of life”

“Please explain music

to me?

We have no such

ideology on my planet?”

Suddenly I felt

sorry for Mr. Gray!

“No such ideology?”

My God!”

He picked up

on my thought

“you feel empathy

towards me David?”

“Yes”

I thought

“Well Mr. Gray

it is an combination

of pitches and tones

synchronized with rhythm.”

‘What is Rhythm David?”

I was wondering how far

I should take this with him?

but his wondrous mind

would sort it out instantly

“It’s a repeating pattern

from our soul.

some folks have it

and some don’t”

“Do you also feel

empathy for those

that donot have this?”

his neutral thought to me

“Yes”

“Why? He asked me

“because I am a musician

“You make this music David?

“Yes”

“Would you make if for me?”

“Yes”

So I got up and turned on my amp

I sat down and he did too

quite tall Mr. Gray is

large long feet as well

I started playing

He hung his large head

down towards is legs

I could hear his thoughts

such a mixture of science

And recollections running

around inside that marvelous mind

He stopped me asking:

“David why are you tapping

your foot?”

“It helps me keep my rhythm”

“Can I do that too?” he asked

“sure you can,” I smiled

Mr. Gray’s idea

of my rhythm was

completely different

than mine!

He was inserting

triplets and 1/8 notes

to my 1/4 notes

his big foot was

flapping away

whap whap whop

whop whap whop!

I stopped him

His head came up

his large black eyes

looking at me

“Why did you stop me David?”

“You were out of sync!”

“Too much of my soul David?”

“Follow me Mr. Gray please?”

“Play on Mr. Proffitt “

A feeble attempt at

as smile from his small mouth

“You are become more human

every day Mr. Gray”

“I will but not right now”

I started a simple chord

sequence on my guitar

He still didn’t get it

So I looked at him

“can I touch you?”

“Why?” he asked

“so I can teach you>”

“Yes you may

touch me then”

So I took his large

gray hand in mine

I turned it over

it was so cold

leathery and wrinkled

I extended his long fingers

I tapped out a simple

rhythm on his palm

He hung his head

again

I felt sorrow in his thoughts

I felt a loss

I felt the entire universe

flowing through us

Then I felt wonderment

from within him

I felt more warmth

I felt a very synchronized

thought pattern from him

and exact duplicate

of my tappings to him.

His twisted little mouth

again attempting to mimic

mine.

“Thank you David!”

His thoughts full

of admiration to

this lowly human

“I must go but

I’ll return later”

“Thank you my

earthling friend”

“Maybe I’ll teach you

poetry next?”

“Explain poetry David?”

“its’our language

put into music”

“You humans are most

amazing!”

“thank you Mr. Gray

but lets leave that subject

for another time?”

“I will look forward to it!”

with that a purple

beam of light

captured him

He was gone

I was left alone

in my living room

with my guitar

Humming through

my half stack

perhaps I’ll write

a song about this?

I should call it

Alien Poetry?

Dave Proffitt

March 10, 2018

12:04 PM

Background:   A minuscule science sidebar

What does space smell like?

A succession of astronauts has described the smell as "… a rather pleasant metallic sensation ... [like] ... sweet-smelling welding fumes", "burning metal", "a distinct odor of ozone, an acrid smell", "walnuts and brake pads', "gunpowder", and even "burnt almond cookie".

Why is 1 hour on Earth 7 years in space?

Explanation: The clocks in space tick more slowly than clocks on Earth., HENCE COVERING LESS TIME AS COMPARED TO EARTH IN THE SAME DURATION. One hour on Earth is 0.0026 seconds in space. Thus, upon calculation we find that one hour on Earth is equivalent to seven years in space. That said, time remains a manmade concept used as a tool to measure an illusionary duration. Relationship and movement and movement in relationship are all that exists.

Do you age faster in space?

It's estimated that the heart, blood vessels, bones, and muscles deteriorate more than 10 times faster in space than by natural aging.

How fast would you freeze in space?

It's very cold in space. Duh! You'll eventually freeze solid. Depending on where you are in space, this will take 12-26 hours, but if you're close to a star, you'll be burnt to a crisp instead.

How fast is death in space?

REAL SPOILER ALERT: The short answer is that the lack of oxygen would make you black out after about 15 seconds. Then by about 90 seconds you are too far gone to be saved.

What happens when you fart in space?

On Earth, farts are typically no big deal — smelly, harmless, and they quickly dissipate. But if you're an astronaut, every fart is a ticking time bomb. The gases in farts are flammable, which can quickly become a problem in a tiny, pressurized capsule in the middle of space where your fart gases have nowhere to go.

Can a fart push you in space?

So, guess where the trapped air goes? The official verdict on gas in space: No burps, more farts, and no, you can't use your flatulence to propel you around the shuttle. 

Exploration 1: Is Dave Proffitt’s poetry scientific?

Exploration 2: Why does Mr. Proffitt post his name and the date/time at the end of each poem?

Exploration 3: Have you given thought to space-time? Any conclusions, if so?

Exploration 4: Comment, if you like, why David considers teaching Mr. Gray poetry.

“Maybe I’ll teach you

poetry next?”

“Explain poetry David?”

“its’our language [sic]

put into music”

Exploration 5: Mr. Gray comments that humans are “amazing.” Guess why he says this.