29 January 2012

Perspective of Singular Expansion v. Accelerative Constriction

The Days are Literally Getting Longer


There is a phenomenon called Tidal Acceleration, its the accumulative result of the Moon's tidal force acting on our oceans. The Moon presses down on Earth like a comfortable lover and this impression pushes the oceans down to the ocean floor when under the Moon. The oceanic movement (waves) produced by this effect actually slows down the Earth's rotation at a rate of roughly 1 second every one hundred thousand years. 400 million years ago our daily rotation was 22 hours long, with shorter days comes longer years unless the revolution around the sun has also decreased, we most likely had 13 months in a year. In short, the years are getting shorter and the days are getting longer.


In purely hypothetical projection, this means that a time will come when one earth day will be as long as one earth year. Of course, scientist believe the Sun will become a Red Giant and Earth's oceans will be a dream before we even reach a 30 hour day. Still hypothetically, if left to continue perpetually, the Earth will also reach a time when the year is shorter than the day; so we spin around the sun faster than we make a daily rotation.


Even though none of these hypothesizations will ever come to be, one thing to note is how much our time is a product of our planet's behaviour. We count time by how fast the planet spins a full rotation and by how fast we revolve around the sun, neither of these have any significant effect on universal time which passes with all its disregard for what's happening on Earth. We're continually disconnecting ourselves from the universe and shutting ourselves into the nature of our planet. And there's nothing wrong with making Earth your priority, especially if its your home but your mind is universal and its home continues to expand while the Earth's constricts. Something to keep in mind since the Earth and our Solar System are both made up of Universe.

Would Darwin Rock with Us Today?

"I look at the natural geological record, as a history of the world imperfectly kept, and written in a changing dialect; of this history we possess the last volume alone, relating only to two or three countries. Of this volume, only here and there a short chapter has been preserved; and of each page, only here and there a few lines. Each word of the slowly-changing language, in which the history is supposed to be written, being more or less different in the interrupted succession of chapters, may represent the abruptly changed forms of life, entombed in our consecutive, but widely separate, formations."

-Charles Darwin On the Origin of Species

This was 1859, that gives us 153 years of advancement in the fields of geology and paleontology to literally unearth a more up-to-date view of the natural geological record with regards to Darwin's theory of evolution and the preservation via fossilization, of organic forms. I wonder if Darwin would maintain the same feelings about the geological record were he alive today? That is to say, how much more do we know today about this history of the world and how further from "imperfectly kept" has it become?

23 January 2012

Let's All Look Up and Not See What's Right Infront of Us

This is a facebook status that states a positive self-prescribed outlook about events without necessary stressing whether or not I'll pursue the integral time-consuming, social-space-inhibiting steps essentially required to achieve my hallucinated dream, for which the optimistic outlook is referencing. Many will like this status while others will add their own positive truisms that are more or less re-worded versions of my own; which I'll in turn like even though they have nothing really to add or respond to what I wrote.

On Habit

To break a habit you must first respect your nature. You must see who or what you are and what surrounds you. What is your habit's ecosystem? What's its prey? Who's its predator? They are linked so essentially to one another that they at times define one another. Their features adapted to the relationships they've adopted under a shared environment. Respecting your nature isn't simply accomplished by removing your habit. You need to shift balances and accommodate both the forces that act upon your habit and those which your habit acts upon.

20 January 2012

The Only You Right Now Ever in Infinity

You're a remix. Material, small pieces of suns and planets, particle waves and radiation, dust from every possible origin of universe alive within the parenthesis which is you. For no other reason than you needed to exist, to fulfill logic and the consistency of sequence and con-sequence, this material became available. Became a different version of you as you time traveled forward, emigrated from the continents of second to second. You, as you are this very moment as you read these words with your eyes scanning left to right or hearing the words read and translating the sound of voice to the memory-carrying nets that signal various interpretations that compete for your understanding--You, who is right this instant the most exclusive, marvelous, original version of your own indigenous action. You are unique. So small, as if you were, in size, to one of your atoms what that atom was to you. So insignificant when the whole picture is viewed and one looks for activity. And yet, if you even blink for a quarter of a second you've changed the physical lexicon of the entire universe, for in that quarter of a second you've created a difference between a universe in which your eyes are open and another in which they are closed.

The Compromised Purging Flame of Consciousness

I had a dream. it was a collective exhibition, that took unedited grazings of events and from the shadows of their memories built a carousel of mirrors that mocked my reflection as it spun, and made the riders nauseous. A singing rogue with his ears perched on deaf musings seemed ignited alight by the velocity--he in fact, controlled the dials. I watched as down fell the motions of night's alumni, returning yet again to be seated amongst themselves as the valid audience of murder. I could do falsehood no greater disservice than by right this moment admitting to you that I believed myself a man, wrapped heavily in the permanent hands of Death. My lungs, once diving freely into the silken tapestries of air, now burrowed in the sketch of frantic; as they debated with retired reserve for the nerve to crawl the sharpness of chalky smoke. It burned the ions of sight, it froze the neon neurons of voice. A gasp funneled into my throat and there a knot of pain curled into a fetus before trembling into stone. It was in this nature that I withdrew from consciousness, omitted myself, sensibly, from the portions of space and time. Gently was I greeted by the crumbling void. Finally was it so that I washed away from the waking senses and found myself bound to the heat of the groaning dirt. Ablaze, became the dry cracks that drew thickening branches on the pavement. And as the fire stretched high, vividly and overzealously to the sky, with it went my flesh easily removed like wet posters. I awoke here and passing my hands over my skin, quickly confirmed the encasing flesh that dressed my naked soul had not been stripped. Disappointedly confirmed.