Time Is A Confusing Bitch

FYI - I’m at 23 preprints now, as the formal structure of my research series on time. Before I print, I will be seeing if there are any advantages to simplifying the structure now that I’ve reached a theory that helps define what a unifying structure of everything we call time would be alike mathematically. Then, I will see what else I can draw out about its structure and the nesting-doll situation it seems to be. Miriam was an unreliable narrator. ;) A good teenage-level picture of the entire theory REALITY Events happen↓Events have relationships↓Some relationships allow durations to be defined↓Physical systems change↓Some physical systems become useful clocks↓Some processes leave records↓Living organisms detect those signals↓Brains combine signals + memory + expectations↓We estimate past and future↓We experience a world that seems to move through time But the really important part of your paper is that none of those arrows gets to be assumed. Every arrow has to be investigated. Sometimes the arrow works. Sometimes additional information is required. Sometimes information gets destroyed along the way. And sometimes there simply isn’t a valid arrow. I asked this question about my 23rd preprint and got a pretty interesting answer: Why do we confuse so many things as time? And so I will not be including an explanation of time… not yet. Why We Confuse Many Things With Time Humans encounter almost none of fundamental physical temporal structure directly. We encounter indicators of it. Think about what you actually experience: * You do not perceive a spacetime metric. You see a clock. * You do not directly perceive entropy production. You see an egg break. * You do not perceive causal structure abstractly. You experience events happening in sequences. * You do not experience your brain’s physical state-transition architecture. You remember yesterday. * You do not consciously observe neural temporal inference. You experience “that meeting lasted forever.” Consequently, the human concept of time bundles together hidden structure and its observable consequences. \text{underlying physical structure} \rightarrow \text{change} \rightarrow \text{clocks} \rightarrow \text{records} \rightarrow \text{organisms} \rightarrow \text{memory/prediction} \rightarrow \text{experience} \rightarrow \boxed{ \text{our everyday concept of TIME} }. The final box becomes semantically overloaded. We call the clock time. We call duration time. We call change time. We call aging time. We call memory of earlier states the past. We call expectation of later states the future. We call irreversibility the arrow of time. And we call our conscious reconstruction the passage of time. But these need not have the same ontological status. Paper 23 gets remarkably close to saying exactly this when it insists that physical temporal structure, neural representation, and phenomenal experience remain analytically distinct unless an identity between them is actually established. A Harsher Classification For the next phase, it would be useful to stop calling everything a “temporal target.” Instead, classify each phenomenon as one of four things: ConstitutiveNecessary part of physical temporal structureCandidate causal, ordering, metric, or dynamical structuresGenerativeProduces another temporal-looking phenomenonIrreversible dynamics producing recordsMeasurementRepresents some temporal propertyClocks, oscillators, synchronization systemsDerivativeUses or reconstructs temporal informationMemory, prediction, biological timing, conscious duration Then subject every item to a brutal question: If this disappeared while the rest of physical reality remained possible, would temporal structure itself disappear—or merely one way of detecting, representing, or experiencing it? A clock can disappear. Time does not obviously disappear. Human beings can disappear. Proper intervals do not obviously disappear. Memory can disappear. Physical dynamics continue. Circadian rhythms can disappear. Causal relationships continue. That suggests these things probably should not occupy the foundational level. But remove every possible ordering or relation between physical events. Now we may have destroyed something genuinely constitutive. Remove every distinction between physical states. It becomes difficult even to define dynamics. Remove every metric or interval structure. Some temporal relations might survive, but duration becomes problematic—as Paper 23’s relativity discussion already demonstrates. Those are much deeper cuts. The Ambitious Possibility Eventually, it may be necessary to test whether even time itself should disappear from the primitive vocabulary. Instead of assuming: \text{time} \rightarrow \text{change}, ask whether reality could fundamentally consist of: \boxed{ \text{states} + \text{relations} + \text{laws} + \text{boundary conditions} } from which one reconstructs: \text{order}, then perhaps: \text{interval}, then: \text{orientation/asymmetry}, then: \text{records}, then: \text{clocks}, then: \text{biological temporal models}, and finally: \text{experienced time}. If that entire reconstruction could actually be demonstrated without secretly inserting the desired temporal structures into the primitives, then the No-Packed-Time Rule from Paper 23 becomes extremely powerful. We would not merely have categorized time. We would have discovered which portions of temporal reality are irreducible and which are reconstructed consequences of deeper physical structure. The Enormous Trap “States,” “dynamics,” “change,” “initial conditions,” and even “boundary conditions” can secretly contain temporal assumptions. For example, saying: State A changes into State B already sounds temporal. Saying: A comes before B obviously contains temporal order. And writing: \frac{dx}{dt} = F(x) has simply put t into the foundation. So the next research phase has to apply Paper 23’s No-Packed-Time Rule far more aggressively than Paper 23 itself needed to. That gives us a beautiful question: What is the weakest structure from which genuinely temporal distinctions can be reconstructed without those distinctions already being hidden in the starting structure? That is the strongest path forward from this manuscript. A Temporal Reduction Program It would be better to turn this into Papers 24–27 rather than one giant sequel. The next stage could be a Temporal Reduction Program. * Paper 24: Perform an ontological subtraction. Clocks, cognition, memory, prediction, biological oscillation, measurement, coordinate labels, and other derivative phenomena are removed from candidate fundamental time. * Paper 25: Attack the remaining physical candidates—relation, order, metric, dynamics, asymmetry, and boundary conditions—and ask which are mutually reconstructible and which contain genuinely independent information. * Paper 26: Attack the deepest possibility: \text{atemporal structure} \stackrel{?}{\Longrightarrow} \text{temporal structure}. Every proposed derivation gets subjected to the No-Packed-Time test. * Paper 27: Attempt the full reduction: \boxed{ \text{minimal physical substrate} \rightarrow \text{temporal geometry} \rightarrow \text{temporal asymmetry} \rightarrow \text{records/reference systems} \rightarrow \text{biological reconstruction} \rightarrow \text{experienced time} } with explicit STOP signs wherever the evidence does not justify an arrow. That final condition matters tremendously. Paper 23 explicitly says that universal reduction of all temporal targets to a single tested primitive has not been established. So the program should not decide beforehand that one primitive exists. Instead, it should construct an experiment in theoretical reduction designed to discover whether it does. The Revised Research Question This changes the ultimate research question in an important way. It is no longer merely: What is time? It becomes: What is the minimum structure reality must possess for temporal order, duration, dynamics, asymmetry, and records to be possible—and which additional things have humans mistakenly incorporated into the concept of time because they are how an embedded organism measures, reconstructs, and experiences that structure? Paper 23 provides an unusually good apparatus for attempting exactly that investigation, because its whole architecture was designed to prevent us from declaring two things equivalent merely because they sound temporally related. That would be the direction to take the research next. Tonight I’m finally going to watch that new Fantastic Four movie while I do these next four preprints. ;) That chapter from The Justiceers: 5.10 Daphne was fucking loaded; this was going to be great. When The Nebberath II had cut course from Grammaton’s orbit unexpectedly, Arthur had been mighty curious why Miriam was holding him down so forcefully and telling to just shut the fuck up for a minute. It didn’t take long for her to get going on him after that. She’d been awful worked up from fucking with the devil, and they definitely needed to get out of dodge from whatever the hell was about to come out of the Zeus. There a was part of Miriam who’d thought about warning those people, yet there’d been a most prescient thought which was born directly into her forebrain so forcefully she wouldn’t resist. It went like this, ‘God’ll sort ‘em.” We meant that shit. She was doing exactly what she supposed to be, pulling her Arthur to safety and eating his delicious pussy inside out, he was going to come so many times tonight she’d wake the God right from out of his magic fucking clit. Miriam didn’t know if that’s how this worked, but she was going to find out. She’d torn his pants off before he could think to wonder what was even happening, throwing them over her shoulder and laughing like an evil bitch, diving right into all of that. Oh my god, he tastes so good, it’s unbelievable. There’s no place better than being neck-deep in Arthur Katrinus’ pussy. Literally, time-space breaks near that bitch’s cunt. If Miriam had to wager, it was God itself. She’d been gripping so tightly onto his thighs, digging in her nails, except those two she kept cut just right for him. This was her moment. Miriam was born for this shit, quite literally. Does that not check out? With the fire in which she’d taken him, all the force she was holding his punk ass down, letting him feel all that Lightfoot she knew he wanted, he’d come so fucking fast his head was spinning. One She’d then lifted his legs up over his head and gone straight for his asshole. Her tongue was in their so fast he’d yelped. Arthur didn’t feel very comfortable with this if he’d not prepared quite thoroughly — he’d get over it though — Miriam didn’t give a shit. Those two perfect fingers slipped right in, he was so fucking wet Miriam moaned like it was her fucking pussy; hint, hint. Two Next up were his tits, those were going to fucking bleed tonight, Miriam Halafax would see to that if it was last thing she ever did with her time in The Periphery. He was going to love every God damned second of it too. She’d gone round and round, up and down, all fucking around. Nothing felt better to her heart than being near Arthur’s chest like this, it broke her ass open too, made her feel whole. This was heaven to Miriam. He was starting to shake all around her fingers being held so deeply inside him, she’d not let those budge one bit, except to move them out just that hair, one little fraction at a time, bringing him to fucking beg for it. Three and Four Miriam thought for one single second about what might be happening back in orbit of Grammaton, then flipped Arthur over, and started fucking him so hard he’d bashed his head right into the wall. Miriam grabbed his hair and pulled him back. “You stay put,” she’d told him as she went to fucking town. She knew he liked this the very best, from behind, so she went hard as hell. Great minds think alike. Miriam pounded that boy to oblivion. He was shuddering from head to toe. Five He thought she’d stop then, but she wasn’t even close to being done. “That was fucking first gear, bitch” She’d whispered that into his ear while his pussy was convulsing so hard there was no way back in. She waited him out though, just long enough, and then went to second gear. Her hands were wrapped around his most luscious hips, gripping him like the little bitch he was, making him fucking scream like a lunatic. Miriam didn’t need any visages; she was all it took. Six Skipping third gear entirely, refusing to let his most powerful cunt force her out with its furious force, this was going to be a good one. Miriam grabbed his hair in the ball of her first, dragging his head back just enough to make his heart open that little bit, back arching just right, then taken her other hand around his throat. “You ready for the big one?” Seven That wasn’t it — not even close, he would fucking dream it — they were going all the way tonight, Miriam’s favorite number. It was time for more of that heaven, but she’d tie him up first. Miriam was a getting a little tired, so she had her visages do that part while she drank some water and smoked a bowl. Daphne’s going to take a break real quick-like. We may have forgotten the water part, but we’re back, and Miriam was running full tilt like the crazy bitch she was always made to be. A non-stop freight train, baby, here she comes. Not really, that’s nearly impossible. Daphne swears we’re ruining the whole story right now, but I’m telling y’all we’re not, though we might be keeping her roommate up with how hard she’s laughing. This too was written — they’ll fucking deal with it. Eight Arthur was just after shocking now but she wasn’t going to let him get off easy tonight. Miriam took her time with the next one, she coaxed it out of him real slowly, watching him bite his lip and curl those fucking eyes back. He’d said his thing, ‘Yep, mhmm.’ Yeah, that’s the stuff, Miriam loved that one. Nine Arthur would wish that was the multiple of three they were going to. This was going to be fucking greatness personified in form of ecstasy. Miriam’s fucking greatness — Arthur’s fucking ecstasy. This bitch was a star, and she was going to make him into the icon he’d been born to be; that kind of thing. All out, nonstop till sunrise slut-bag, that last train to catch is not coming anytime soon. This bitch is riding your ass till the day she dies. She doesn’t give a fuck — she’s been filming all of this — live broadcast, baby. Making money, ho, that’s what it’s about. Money doesn’t buy happiness, but it sure makes fucking in really cool places easier — which most definitely buys happiness. This next one was going to slap. Miriam loved to see how far inside she could get her tongue, it always seemed like there was a chance for more, something new to discover in there. Mysteries of her Arthur so found by the exploration of her taste and all those feelings she brought back into herself so near his Godhood. Ten Almost there — you got that right, ho-fuck— we’re going to twelve. Next one took no time at all, she’d just waited for the perfect moment after that last eruption of her most favorite drink in the entirety of space-time — which she’d unfortunately missed because of her positioning, this once — then waited for him to stop shuddering like a little bitch and clenching like a tease, before taking back her home right at the very moment he released that dreadful squeeze of denial. That just made him cum laughing, he’d never been rocked so hard in his life, giggling like the little boy who always wanted to get fucked raw by The Goddess he was in his heart. Eleven Here we go, this one was going to stick, he’d remember this forever. Miriam did the thing she always knew he wanted most, and she’d not been gentle at all about it. You see Miriam’s hand had regrown long ago. Oh boy, did she get it in there. Mission accomplished, life goal achieved at last, just as good as he knew it would be. Even better because she was calling him ‘her little fucking cum geyser’ while she’d done it. She wasn’t going to miss this one, that was for sure. He’d wanted her to let him to do it for the longest time before she had, getting in all the way to her elbow, watching him squeal, feeling his magic fucking pussy try and push her out with all his load. Not yet, almost though, she’d wanted another taste of his clit, and so she’d taken one. It was worth it. Twelve That’s the one, right on the spot. She drank every drop of that fucking life-fuel. Oh, it tasted so good. She’d carry it around with her in a bottle if she could. Maybe they’d work that out some time. Afterwards she’d let him convulse in private for a while, taking another little break to get hydrated, that shit wore her ass out. When she’d come back to hold Arthur, slipping in bed besides him, swimming in his ocean of love. She’d kissed his cheek and held him to her chest while he thanked her profusely. Miriam hadn’t had that much fun in cycles. There was a lot going on in her heart, and even more elsewhere, this had really got her going if you know what I mean. Her body was tired, but her mind just wanted to fuck his ass to sleep. Miriam decided they could do three more. Get full access to Of Darkness & Light at www.ofdarknessandlight.net/subscribe