Taking dictation, we've moved our clocks an hour ahead, changed the terms of the story, adjusted the plot, so the characters have more hours of light.  Twice a year we turn the hands back, turn them forward;  twice, we're in a foreign country in our own kitchens, a new time zone, by pushing a button, twisting a dial. The strangeness lasts perhaps a week, the body slower than the mind, off by a beat until the odd becomes the normal, and the river rushes on.

I recall a movie in which a character (a Moor) needs to learn the language of the Vikings he's with. So he listens intently, practices words; the sound track's turned off as he watches the mouths of the Vikings make words, then it's turned on at the instant he speaks to a surprised Viking in his language: the transition is effected. We understand that while all the actors originally spoke English, those dressed as Vikings were speaking Danish, while the Moor, dressed in flowing robes, was speaking Arabic, but now, after the silence during which the Moor studied the silent mouths speaking, all of the characters are now speaking Danish, though they're still speaking English.

There's no magic in the ordinary? What else is the ordinary but an illusion all share?

 


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Allan DiBiase
03/11/2013 9:14am

I've been tracking Thoreau's persistent theme of "the lapse of time". Which I think a necessary step toward the goal of fronting the "natural day". Tracing the natural day then became the analogical template for his relation to Nature and his giving an account of it.

I always wanted to be a basketball player and hang on the hoop.

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