the perception of time…

Wednesday, September 29th, 2010
life measured by thought and not the senses...

life measured by thought and not the senses...

I have just come back from walking my dog to hear someone talking on the radio about a theory he has of the perception of time that sounds essentially the same as one that I have held for a long time. So I thought I may as well put down my thoughts for the record…

Some years back I came back from shopping and realized that I had been there and back and could barely recall anything that had happened. It was almost as if I had not gone shopping at all – though I had the full bags to prove it… This then provoked in me an insight that gave me an answer as to why it was that time seemed to move faster the older I became…

People are always saying that time seemed to move so much slower when they were children – that the summer holidays seemed to last for ever. It seems to me that the reason for this is simply that, when we are children, we live profoundly ‘in’ our senses – that is, we are constantly monitoring sensory input. An extreme example of this would be a baby learning to take her first steps. The crossing from one side of the room to the other is necessarily a major undertaking. As a consequence, the experience is overwhelming – every totter, every regaining of balance, every step forward is experienced with exquisite awareness. Now, when you or I cross a room, we are no longer aware of our balance, of each footfall and the reason for this is that we’ve automated it. I remember my first driving lessons as being rather analogous to the child tottering. With practice, the mechanical processes of driving a car, that had once left me in a sweat of concentration, slipped into my subconscious, so that now I can drive barely aware that I am doing so.

As we age, we gradually automate everything, until we reach a state where we can negotiate almost our entire lives on ‘automatic’. Though our brain is still processing sensory input, our conscious mind is not. And, when consciousness is untethered to the senses, then we lose that childlike time perception. Apart from our body clocks (that operate in a different way), our perception of time is entirely given to us by what is happening outside us. If we stop paying attention to that, then time becomes entirely fluid, becoming the slave of whatever it is we are paying attention to: if something boring, time drags – if fascinating, it gallops…

So the answer to why time speeds up as we age is that we are progressively disengaging from the real world, the world of our senses, and instead choosing to spend our time in virtual worlds that reside entirely in our heads. Worse, we most of us deliberately annihilate time. How many of us do not sit at our desks longing for the weekend to come? – and by so doing, we compress the weekdays. Or we spend time looking forward to a holiday – and thus compress the weeks to that time…Interestingly, a proof of what I’m saying seems to me to be provided beautifully by holidays – especially those challenging ones where we go to a foreign country. There, our ‘automations’ so often don’t work. Consequently, we are forced back into our senses as we try and ‘make sense’ of things… Thus, on such holidays, a week appears to be a month. Holidays seem to expand time, though, of course, it is not the holiday that is expanded, but the rest of our lives…

So, the rate at which time moves for you is up to you. If while you are eating your cornflakes in the morning you actually pay attention to their taste and texture in your mouth, then your breakfast, rather than being a null-time event, will stretch to occupy a sizable period – an eternity even *grin* Of course, when I got to this point, I realized that this is what Buddhists and yogis have been saying for centuries – all that ‘listening to the breath’ – for, after all, what is listening to your breath other than tuning into the ‘real’ tick-tock of your life, rather than paying attention to that mechanical tyrant on the wall…?

(Incidentally, this is what Legions is talking about in my book The Third God when he says: “Without my senses to anchor me in the now, I have moved swiftly through my own, inner time. A life measured by thought and not the senses is exceeding short.”)

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Spartacus: Blood and Sand…

Sunday, September 26th, 2010
spartacus...

spartacus...

I have been watching Spartacus: Blood and Sand with much enjoyment and would like to counter various sneering reviews such as this (it was another review I can no longer find that provoked me to write here)…

The general drift seems to be to point out the banally obvious, that the show contains a constant diet of sex and violence, and to state that there is no plot. It seems to me that this entirely misses the critical point: that the sex and violence are the plot. Both serve to demonstrate the core aspects of the politics and culture they represent.

When you have two privileged people chatting about the day’s business, while each is ‘fluffed’ by a slave to get them sexually aroused, before they enter into full copulation, with these and other slaves watching – then it seems to me that we are being given a profound lesson in cultural history that it might otherwise take screeds of text to convey.

Similarly, when you observe men highly trained to kill, decked out in armour and weapons exquisitely customized to provide entertaining matches (yes, like a computer game, but these were real people being maimed and slaughtered) before a baying crowd of gorethirsty ‘citizens’ – then something of the politics and morality of the Roman Empire is clearly communicated. Apparently, after a day at the Colosseum, whores would gather in the streets outside so that the audience, their libidos inflamed by hours of torture and bloodshed, could sate their passions there and then on the street. From what I’ve read, sex and violence were endemic to ancient Rome and many other urban centres of her empire – and these excesses were not something enjoyed underground but in the full glare of day, promoted by the state, indulged in by even the highest stratum of society…

Further, comparisons with Frank Miller’s 300, though superficially true (Spartacus makes many stylistic borrowings), again seem to me to miss the point. 300 deliberately (or ignorantly) misrepresents history. To have Xerxes, the Persian King shown as some kind of S&M pervert (homosexuality being implied among other things), is a gross inversion of the truth. From what we know, Xerxes was a profoundly moral man, hedged about by a religious (Zoroastrian, arguably) code that was far more chaste than anything the Greeks had to offer. Indeed, those Spartan heroes, if correctly portrayed, would have spent the time before battle, combing their hair and primping themselves to appear as beautiful as they could in the coming battle. This from a military elite among whom homosexuality was compulsory. Not that I am expressing any judgement about this. Rather, I could not help being aware, while watching 300, of how Frank Miller had twisted his representation of history to reflect what appears to me to be a sinister notion of West versus East – a self-serving white hat/black hat analysis that has political consequences even today…

So, Spartacus: Blood and Sand is indeed comicbook – gloriously and creatively so, somewhat fantasy, and there is quite a lot of rather dodgy acting, but it is nevertheless a visceral portrayal of some aspects of Roman culture that goes some way to explaining why their slaves rose up, not once but several times, in grotesquely violent and desperate attempts to free themselves from the degradation and harm imposed on them by their masters…

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crucifix versus cross…

Sunday, September 12th, 2010
a crucifix in San Damiano in Assisi...

a crucifix in San Damiano in Assisi...

empty cross in a presbyterian church in Florida...

empty cross in a presbyterian church in Florida...

When I was in Portugal earlier this year, it occurred to me that not a single one of my Portuguese readers has ever mentioned the violence inherent in the Stone Dance, never mind complained about it. This stands in stark contrast with reactions in the English speaking world – where the violence contained in the books is often mentioned. This contrast linked in my mind with a comment my therapist once made to me that “you imbibed Catholicism with your mother’s milk”… At the time I was taken by surprise, being that I am an atheist and that I do not recall even being in a Catholic church (though I was baptised in one). My mother is a devout Christian, but though she was brought up Catholic, when we moved to Scotland, she abandoned Catholicism because she was uninterested in the schisms in Christianity. Her attitude seems to be that she believes in Christ and can’t see the point in denominations. As it happened, she walked down the street and joined the first church that she came to. As this turned out to be the Church of Scotland, she nominally is now a Protestant – though, as I’ve said, she’s not interested in such distinctions.

What, you may be wondering, does this have to do with the Stone Dance. Well, when I was in therapy, I became aware that the Stone Dance has a layer of structure that is profoundly Catholic in its sensibility. In fact, Catholic themes of suffering and redemption run through the books; there are fundamental subversions of the Garden of Eden story, of original sin, of the casting out of Satan from Heaven… All this in spite of me being an atheist and having been brought up with only a moderate smattering of Christian influence… But we can none of us, it seems, be free of what we “imbibe with our mother’s milk”…(see the first epigraph of The Third God)

What then does this have to do with how different cultures react to the violence in the Stone Dance… First: I myself was not really aware of the violence in the books as being an issue – violence seems to be such a natural part of our lives, that for people to take exception to it, seemed to me a tad perverse. I was, after all, writing a book about the world as I see it… and who can claim that that world is not saturated with violence? I began to see that it might not be the violence per se that some people were finding difficult, but rather something about the way that that violence was being portrayed. Please understand that I am here feeling a way through the shadows – I don’t claim to fully understand this – but I now wonder if it could possibly be accidental that the only other group of people who have not noticed the difficulty in this violence should happen to be people from the country in which I was born; that though I was only in Portugal for 8 years of my life… that I am still Portuguese. And what then could it be about being Portuguese that leads to a different attitude towards violence?

My solution, a solution that came to me when I was in Portugal on my recent visit, I can best explain by what I see as a distinction between the crucifix and the cross. In my experience, the dominant symbol in the English speaking world is the bare cross, unadorned, abstract. In Portugal, in the Catholic world in general, this cross has a man suffering on it. How profoundly is a culture shaped, the minds of its children shaped, by the difference between these symbols? The contrast between the abstract instrument of torture and execution, and the instrument being demonstrated in use, viscerally, by having a man depicted on it suffering? And it seems to me that the profound mystery (in the religious sense) here is that a man suffering on a cross should be thrust into the face of people – especially children – as the symbol of the most profound love. This seems to me to provide some insight into the difference in how people react to the violence in the Stone Dance. For that violence is ultimately about sacrifice and redemption. And it seems that I am Catholic enough to have portrayed a unity between violence and redemption, between violence and love, that is immediately understood by people who have grown up with the crucifix and causes much more of a problem for those who have grown up with the plain, bare cross…

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a graphic novel…

Wednesday, September 8th, 2010
Mong-Twod © adrian smith 2010

Mong-Twod © adrian smith 2010

Over the past 4 weeks I have been writing a graphic novel called Malta with my friend Adrian Smith… I can’t really talk about details at present… Adrian and I have been talking about doing some joint project for a long time.

I’ve not written a graphic novel before and have been pleased to find that it is a form that comes naturally to me. This shouldn’t perhaps be that much of a surprise when you consider how visual my writing is…

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ebook versions of the Stone Dance…

Sunday, September 5th, 2010
kindle editions of the Stone Dance...

kindle editions of the Stone Dance...

After an interminable wait, ebook editions of The Standing Dead and The Third God are now available for kindle on amazon.com and amazon.co.uk and in ereader format at least here… No doubt these are available elsewhere…

The eagle-eyed among you might have noticed that The Chosen is not yet available… bizarre indeed, but my editor assures me that these editions will be published at the end of September 2010. My publishers, Transworld, are also in talks with Apple so an edition on iPad etc should be available soon…

(writing on 9th of October 2010, the ebook version of The Chosen is available now)

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