So here's something I've been working on for... err... about half an hour. On my own, I would add. And I assure you, it's mind-blowing. Nobel prize material, even. We're on the edge of a paradigm shift, people.
So, anyway, it all started at the end of last week, as I dropped a co-worker off at the railway station. And he goes, "See you tomorrow." I correct that to, "See you on MONDAY." He asks, "what, you're not working tomorrow?" Which made me inquire since when am I supposed to work on Saturdays, since, you know, it was Friday. Turns out that nope, it was Thursday, tomorrow was Friday.
Which got me thinking. I distinctly remembered yesterday being Thursday, and everything. Hell, now that I thought about it, I remembered dropping that guy at the railways station yesterday too. I don't do that every day, so red flags started popping up in my head like moles at one of those whack-a-mole machines.
Could it be that I had somehow been transported back in time by one day? Obviously, yes. The evidence was too hard to ignore.
(And yes, I know that some of the hidebound reactionaries and self-appointed defenders of the orthodoxy will say that Einstien's theory of relativity forbids it, but frankly, the clue is in the name: it's just a theory. Plus, it's obvious that he too had started to doubt it in his later years.)
But how?
Well, my first clue came as I sat and watched some old episodes of The Flash and someone on Teams sent a link to The Ballad Of Barry Allen on youtube:
[yt]forsqbhBQtQ[/yt]
Yeah, that guy must be bored half to death. And he can travel in time. (Explain that evidence, you Einstien defenders!) Hmm... could that be the secret?
It wouldn't be the first time I had noticed that time passes at different speeds, relative to how bored you are. Like, ever notice how you've had some boring relatives drone on for hours at the Christmas table, and then you look at the clock and actually it's barely been 15 minutes? That's why it's called "relative time", I guess.
Of course, my work at the time had been interrupted by a pleasant stay at the local psychiatry hospital. Just like back in Galileo's day, obviously the modern day inquisition was bothered by my insights into the real nature of reality, and generally my being ahead of time. (If I'd given the guy another minute head start before chasing him screaming "BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD!!" I bet it wouldn't have looked half as bad. That's what I get for being ahead of time, eh?) But I knew it was really just a conspiracy by the scientific establisment to suppress my progress, when the psychiatrist suddenly only wanted to talk about why do I think I'm like Barry Allen, once I had mentioned that.
Anyway... Hmm... could it be that Barry Allen's secret is a self-sustaining boredom field, slowing down time for him? But what if you got bored even beyond that? Could time actually flow backwards? A quick thought experiment seemd to confirm that.
Then the phone rang, and it was mom trying to tell me AT LENGTH about the absolutely normal squirrel, doing absolutely nothing unusual or interesting to anyone sane, that she had photographed at the park. With a detour into how something she saw at the park reminded her of something else. That in turn being interrupted by a parentheses into something ELSE that that reminded her of. And by that, I mean it reminded her of another taxi ride she took the other day and nothing interesting to anyone else happened.
At this point I was having a deja vu moment. Her taking photos of squirrels at the park, her stories in the middle of other stories in the middle of other detours in the middle of other parentheses...
And then I realized what had happened: I had had the exact same conversation in the Thursday yesterday, and it bored me right back in time.
So I hung up.
Well, anyway, I'm not good at maths, but my theory is conceptually right, so all I need is for someone to express it in terms of equations.
So, anyway, it all started at the end of last week, as I dropped a co-worker off at the railway station. And he goes, "See you tomorrow." I correct that to, "See you on MONDAY." He asks, "what, you're not working tomorrow?" Which made me inquire since when am I supposed to work on Saturdays, since, you know, it was Friday. Turns out that nope, it was Thursday, tomorrow was Friday.
Which got me thinking. I distinctly remembered yesterday being Thursday, and everything. Hell, now that I thought about it, I remembered dropping that guy at the railways station yesterday too. I don't do that every day, so red flags started popping up in my head like moles at one of those whack-a-mole machines.
Could it be that I had somehow been transported back in time by one day? Obviously, yes. The evidence was too hard to ignore.
(And yes, I know that some of the hidebound reactionaries and self-appointed defenders of the orthodoxy will say that Einstien's theory of relativity forbids it, but frankly, the clue is in the name: it's just a theory. Plus, it's obvious that he too had started to doubt it in his later years.)
But how?
Well, my first clue came as I sat and watched some old episodes of The Flash and someone on Teams sent a link to The Ballad Of Barry Allen on youtube:
[yt]forsqbhBQtQ[/yt]
Yeah, that guy must be bored half to death. And he can travel in time. (Explain that evidence, you Einstien defenders!) Hmm... could that be the secret?
It wouldn't be the first time I had noticed that time passes at different speeds, relative to how bored you are. Like, ever notice how you've had some boring relatives drone on for hours at the Christmas table, and then you look at the clock and actually it's barely been 15 minutes? That's why it's called "relative time", I guess.
Of course, my work at the time had been interrupted by a pleasant stay at the local psychiatry hospital. Just like back in Galileo's day, obviously the modern day inquisition was bothered by my insights into the real nature of reality, and generally my being ahead of time. (If I'd given the guy another minute head start before chasing him screaming "BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD!!" I bet it wouldn't have looked half as bad. That's what I get for being ahead of time, eh?) But I knew it was really just a conspiracy by the scientific establisment to suppress my progress, when the psychiatrist suddenly only wanted to talk about why do I think I'm like Barry Allen, once I had mentioned that.
Anyway... Hmm... could it be that Barry Allen's secret is a self-sustaining boredom field, slowing down time for him? But what if you got bored even beyond that? Could time actually flow backwards? A quick thought experiment seemd to confirm that.
Then the phone rang, and it was mom trying to tell me AT LENGTH about the absolutely normal squirrel, doing absolutely nothing unusual or interesting to anyone sane, that she had photographed at the park. With a detour into how something she saw at the park reminded her of something else. That in turn being interrupted by a parentheses into something ELSE that that reminded her of. And by that, I mean it reminded her of another taxi ride she took the other day and nothing interesting to anyone else happened.
At this point I was having a deja vu moment. Her taking photos of squirrels at the park, her stories in the middle of other stories in the middle of other detours in the middle of other parentheses...
And then I realized what had happened: I had had the exact same conversation in the Thursday yesterday, and it bored me right back in time.
So I hung up.
Well, anyway, I'm not good at maths, but my theory is conceptually right, so all I need is for someone to express it in terms of equations.
via International Skeptics Forum https://ift.tt/3xDknHr
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