{"id":12255,"date":"2012-12-07T12:29:31","date_gmt":"2012-12-07T17:29:31","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/?p=12255"},"modified":"2012-12-07T12:29:31","modified_gmt":"2012-12-07T17:29:31","slug":"the-stutter-in-the-clocks-second-hand","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/2012\/12\/the-stutter-in-the-clocks-second-hand\/","title":{"rendered":"The Stutter in the Clock’s Second Hand"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

[Image: “It’s time to stop, the night said to me,” by Brandon Barr. One of many photos in <\/em>The 24 Hour Project<\/a>, a worldwide collaboration of 65 photographers documenting every hour of the day… \u00a0in over 35 cities. Barr’s photo of a street corner in Atlanta was snapped at 11:03p.m.]<\/em><\/p>\n

From\u00a0whiskey river<\/em>:<\/p>\n

We Have Time<\/strong><\/p>\n

We have time for everything
\nSleep, run back and forth,
\nregret we made an error and err again
\njudge others and absolve ourselves,
\nwe have time to read and write,
\nedit what we wrote, regret what we wrote,
\nwe have time to make projects and never follow through
\nwe have time to dwell in illusions and stir through
\ntheir ashes much later.<\/p>\n

We have time for ambitions and diseases,
\nto blame destiny and details,
\nwe have time to look at the clouds, at the ads, or some random accident, we have time
\nto chase away our questions, postpone our answers, we have time
\nto crush a dream and reinvent it, we have time to make friends,
\nto lose them, we have time to take lessons and forget them
\nsoon after, we have time to receive gifts and not understand them. We have time for everything.<\/p>\n

No time, though, for a little tenderness.
\nWhen we’re about to do that, too, we die.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

(Octavian Paler<\/a>)<\/p>\n

…and:<\/p>\n

It seems that most of us could benefit from a brush with a near-fatal disaster to help us recognize the important things that we are too defeated or embittered to recognize from day to day.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

(Alain de Botton [source<\/em><\/a>])<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

Not from\u00a0whiskey river<\/em> (excerpt):<\/p>\n

There will be time to murder and create,
\nAnd time for all the works and days of hands
\nThat lift and drop a question on your plate;
\nTime for you and time for me,
\nAnd time yet for a hundred indecisions,
\nAnd for a hundred visions and revisions,
\nBefore the taking of a toast and tea.<\/p>\n

In the room the women come and go
\nTalking of Michelangelo.<\/p>\n

And indeed there will be time
\nTo wonder, “Do I dare?” and, “Do I dare?”
\nTime to turn back and descend the stair,
\nWith a bald spot in the middle of my hair—
\n(They will say: \u201cHow his hair is growing thin!\u201d)
\nMy morning coat, my collar mounting firmly to the chin,
\nMy necktie rich and modest, but asserted by a simple pin—
\n(They will say: \u201cBut how his arms and legs are thin!\u201d)
\nDo I dare
\nDisturb the universe?
\nIn a minute there is time
\nFor decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

(T.S. Eliot [source<\/em><\/a>])<\/p>\n

…and:<\/p>\n

Affliction is a marvel of divine technique. It is a simple and ingenious device which introduces into the soul of a finite creature the immensity of force, blind, brutal, and cold. The infinite distance separating God from the creature is entirely concentrated into one point to pierce the soul in its center…<\/p>\n

In this marvelous dimension, the soul, without leaving the place and the instant where the body to which it is united is situated, can cross the totality of space and time and come into the very presence of God.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

(Simone Weil [source<\/em><\/a>])<\/p>\n

…and:<\/p>\n

Everyone knew something<\/em> had happened — everyone, everywhere, at the same instant.<\/p>\n

Many said they heard a click, as from a door latch\u2019s simple opening, and some said no: it was a faint brief creak, as of someone sitting in an old chair in the next room. The deaf and the sleeping said sorry, they couldn\u2019t agree, they\u2019d heard nothing at all, but they knew something had happened nonetheless. Many said there had been a tiny tremor of floor or earth, and a handful of alarmists reported a sudden racing of their hearts. A good number turned, a second later, to their spouses or partners, their co-workers or cellmates or classmates, people sharing the same bus seat or park bench or pew, raised their eyebrows, and said — in the language of their choice —\u00a0What was that?<\/em> You might have been in the grip of a deep dreaming sleep, oblivious to the shouting of the neighbors next door, or you might have been one of those neighbors, interrupted between words; you might have just plunged a shovel into the earth to dig a grave, or your fingertips into the earth to plant a seed; you might have been breaking into the company safe, or you might have been raising the gun to prevent someone else from doing so, or you might be entering your office in the county courthouse where you would soon hear the case of the debt-ridden worker, his arm still in a sling, caught in the act; you might, that moment, have tapped a comma on a keyboard, or you might have been someone who would read that comma in a day\u2019s time; you might have just emerged, gasping, from the birth canal, or you might be breathing your last, surprised to experience anything at all unfamiliar. It made no difference. You<\/em> knew it had happened, too.<\/p>\n

A sudden flicker, an instant\u2019s discontinuity, the tiniest lurch in awareness, a fold, a ripple, a needle jumping into or out of a groove, a tap, a tickle, whisper, whiff, tang: something<\/em> had happened, and something<\/em> left its imprint in the consciousness of everyone on the planet, everyone breathing at that split-second. The effect was immediate and transient, and yet rippled out through history, for thousands of millennia afterwards.<\/p>\n

No one knew who had first suggested the term (there were many claimants). But everyone came to call the experience by the same name. They called it The Blink.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

(JES)<\/p>\n

The 1940 song “Five O’Clock Whistle” seems at first to be about exactly what the title promises. But then you listen to the whole thing, and you suddenly realize: the only important split-second in the little story occurs some time after 2:30a.m….<\/p>\n

Here’s\u00a0Duke Ellington’s take on it, with a sly, swinging vocal by Ivie Anderson:<\/p>\n

[Below, click Play button to begin <\/em>Five O’Clock Whistle. While audio is playing, volume control appears at left — a row of little vertical bars. This clip is 3:19 long.]<\/a><\/em><\/p>\n

[audio:fiveoclockwhistle_ellington.mp3|titles=’Five O’Clock Whistle’|artists=Duke Ellington w\/Ivie Anderson]<\/div>\n

[Lyrics<\/a>]<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

[Image: “It’s time to stop, the night said to me,” by Brandon Barr. One of many photos in The 24 Hour Project, a worldwide collaboration of 65 photographers documenting every hour of the day… \u00a0in over 35 cities. Barr’s photo of a street corner in Atlanta was snapped at 11:03p.m.] From\u00a0whiskey river: We Have Time […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"_genesis_hide_title":false,"_genesis_hide_breadcrumbs":false,"_genesis_hide_singular_image":false,"_genesis_hide_footer_widgets":false,"_genesis_custom_body_class":"","_genesis_custom_post_class":"","_genesis_layout":"","h5ap_radio_sources":[],"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"activitypub_content_warning":"","activitypub_content_visibility":"","activitypub_max_image_attachments":3,"activitypub_interaction_policy_quote":"anyone","activitypub_status":"","footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":false,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[247,1393,74,115,5,105,251],"tags":[685,1019,2535,2880,2959,3275,3276,3277],"class_list":{"0":"post-12255","1":"post","2":"type-post","3":"status-publish","4":"format-standard","6":"category-ruminations","7":"category-whiskey-river-runningaftermyhat","8":"category-music","9":"category-advertisingpackaging","10":"category-06_writing","11":"category-short-fiction","12":"category-poetry-writing_cat","13":"tag-ts-eliot","14":"tag-time","15":"tag-duke-ellington","16":"tag-simone-weil","17":"tag-alain-de-botton","18":"tag-brandon-barr","19":"tag-octavian-paler","20":"tag-ivie-anderson","21":"entry"},"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p6kZSG-3bF","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12255","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=12255"}],"version-history":[{"count":15,"href":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12255\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":12270,"href":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12255\/revisions\/12270"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=12255"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=12255"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=12255"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}