Time

Time ain’t. There is no time. Time is subjective. When I was a kid in school they tried to make me believe that time was something linear, like edge of a knife. Problem was, I kept falling off, kept getting cut. I knew, without even thinking about it, that time was an invention to keep things from happening all at once. Cuz that would be totally confusing, would it not? Linear time is easy to understand, you can cut it into little portions that fit into the world. My teachers thought that was good, they thought they were doing me a favor. But kids don’t think that way, thank God.
Most of us kids learned to think that way, we were forced to, but some of us simply couldn’t. What I learned was to pay tribute to that system, though I did not believe in it. I learned to be realistic. I live in a world of deadlines and dates. It’s my curse, but it is a system. I like systems, I’m a system guy, in spite of myself. Damn, those teachers did good work, they got me, but nevertheless… time ain’t. Perfect example: gotta get up in half an hour, spent the night drinkin’ and thinkin’, the morning too…. People believe time is based on the movements of our planet around the sun, the movements of the moon around our planet, as if that was a repeating system, a clock. But it isn’t. It’s irregular. Our planetary system, our galaxy, our whole universe, is irregular. The most precise clocks we have in this day and age, after thousands of years of calculating time with increasing precision, fucking atom clocks, have to be corrected, because the universe doesn’t do what we would like it to do. The universe is irregular.

Okay, stop. I’m thankful for the concept of time. Just now I am listening to Ska Fort Rock from the Skatalites. It’s six in the morning. I’m drunk, been up all night, but no so drunk that I can’t appreciate this song. Why? Because it has a beautifully syncopated beat combined with wonderful horns… impossible without a concept of time. You know what gets me? It’s the pauses… the moments where there is nothing, where time is suspended… where time is drawn out… and then it comes… yeah. It’s a perfect example of what I mean. Subjective time, drawn out und then contracted, so beautiful…
Musicians play with time, and we should too. It’s a fucking game. Now I’m listening to Turn the Centuries, Turn, from the Stranglers. No pauses in that piece, incidentally.

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