Vitia Futilis--Assimulabimini...Tempore.

Existence is Futile--You Will Be Assimilated...by Time.

I missed Monday night because once I finished writing my paper on the philosophy involved in W.B. Yeats' "An Irish Airman Foresees His Death" I had to fold laundry (TWO sets, what's up with that?) and go to bed.

So to make up for it, here's an interesting idea that I'm actually considering for my Master's thesis instead of the ontological and epistemological uselessness of gender identification. Then go watch Dr Who. You're welcome.

Does time flow, does time exist, how does time flow, how does time exist?
It doesn't. Almost too easy, right? But it doesn't in the way that depth doesn't exist. That is, there is something that exists IN the third dimension, and the second and the first...but there is no -third- dimension that exists independently without something in it. That's right, I'm a realist. Deal with it. But it is the same way with time. Time does not exist except for the fact that we as a species can identify that time exists. If a tree falls in a forest it makes no sound unless a human hears it. Prove me wrong, listen to a recording of a fallen log. Oh, right, you just heard it!
On top of the lack of existence of time, however, is the flow of time. Does "Tempus Fugit"? Nope. Not at all. However, Fugimus In Temporem, We Fly Away In Time. I mean, the same way there is no third dimension without there being something to exist in that third dimension there is no fourth (or 3 1/2th, whateves).  We have a dimension of time because we move within it.

Now, here's the thing I'm not sure about: are we continually different beings? We flicker between each non-important change until we no longer recognise ourselves. I am NOT a baby (shut UP, okay?) I am not an old woman (I SAID shut UP!). But somehow I seem to be getting from one to the other.
Plato's forms...Aristotle's ideals...how do I change when my properties cannot change but must be replaced? How can I be tanned now when I wasn't tanned at birth, if it's an essential property. And if it's not an essential property then why is the colour of my skin the only thing separating me from some doppelganger wandering around Vancouver? (Seriously, I got asked TWICE what my name is and if I'm from Edmonton. Do two other women have peacock hair, or do they think I'm their friend, now changed? WTF?)
I get this image that within each second, we flicker in and out of existence...becoming that slightly different person we need to be to make the "passage of time" worthwhile.
Or maybe I should really NOT be allowed to watch "Bill and Ted" right before reading Prior.

Hopefully, now that the crunch before finals is over, I'll be more interesting. Don't count on it but I think my next post will be about sex, if at least about gender politics.