The Hardest Thing About Time

Hello, fellow time travelers. I'm Russ. Or am I really?

I would also say I'm glad to be here if I were really sure about any of those things.

About the title of my blog as well as the title of this post, the hardest thing about time is doing it. Not merely in the prison sense (although it could be argued that time and existence and even thought are prisons of a sort), but rather the experience of living in animal form in temporal space. Science as well as instinct assures us that we are indeed alive, that we inhabit space and that both conditions must ultimately end. So in a very real sense, we are all time travelers; we just take our time about doing it. But the true nature of time and experience are variable and are problematical enough to furnish material for endless debate, some of which we may sample if we choose to spend enough time at this location.

We are also living in borrowed time (which would have made a lovely title for another post and one which I will be glad to exploit later). Daylight Savings Time is almost upon us and indeed has already arrived in other time zones, which means that in a few moments we may play at being time-thieves and according to the rules of one of the games we play, we can adjust our clocks backwards one hour and exhaust ourselves for another hour which according to society has already existed and died in a shadowless prefiguration of our own demise.

And behold; true to form, the devil is here after I have spoken his name. I have now traveled backwards in time quite against my will and have another hour to play and be played. But I will not play here; the time I have already imagined has made me sleepy and I am going to bed.

Good night, fellow time travelers. I will be back some other time.