Sunday, May 15, 2016
Middle of the Pendulum
The Hyperborean Mythos
Middle of the Pendulum
(Dr. Nutt in Ushuaia, Argentina, 2010) Part III
In the Silence
Dr. Nutt. I fell into a sky that now had grown dark, the whole scene took on a semi-nocturnal aspect, and made me think of doom, in the twilight of a dying sun. It was as if I was on the airless moon in silence. I heard not even a leave or an insect move, uncanny silence.
It was the silence of the endless emptiness.
Death nearly confirmed by disquietude.
Now I heard a sound in the silence of this macabre scene, like a click, the swing of a pendulum. I turned to listen closer, what reality was I now to confront? ...
No sooner had the movement of the pendulum made another click I felt warmth. I was petrified, I felt I was weighted down by some unavoidable nightmare. But I felt motion, and heat emerged from this motion, even from its shadow motion came as if one thing triggered another, and heat thereafter, for the moon was at first cold—figuratively speaking for I don’t know if I was or if I wasn’t on the moon mentally, spiritually in some time and space box, and that’s where I felt I was. And now I was watching, which was another interaction, my brain awhirl, it was reactivated with dizzying terror, but reactivated all the same, and that mattered.
The previous ebbing blackness was disappearing and consciousness was lifted, leaving behind death, the moon, the shadow, the cold and thus, peering at hospital walls.
Dr. Nutt sat up on the edge of his hospital bed, trying to figure out what took place. He looked at the probabilistic nature of heat, thermodynamics, and saying to himself out loud: “Cold teaspoons are heated up in hot water.”
He had been for the most part—while vacationing in Ushuaia (Patagonia, 2010)—had fallen into the Beagle Canal strolling its muddy shores down below his Motel: he was taken out as dead, a cold fish dead as a doornail, evidently that had heated back up, but how was that so, he pondered?
“It’s all interaction,” he told himself. “Hot to cold. Hot is hot, because atoms move more quickly compared to cold, which move slower, with zero friction, the pendulum will move endlessly forever, friction produces heat. The swing of the pendulum is friction.” He was trying to put the puzzle together, what happened to him, evidently he had fallen into the canal, and survived: “I was in the middle of the pendulum, sort of speaking, until I started to run in my dead state (or dream state or unconscious state) thus I swung the pendulum, a hot body materializes when material collided, heat passes to a colder body.”
He now was concentrating on the edge of his bed, as the nurses looked in now and then on him pondering with his hands on his forehead: he concentrated on electromagnetic waves, which vibrate randomly, —for he firmly believed he was dead, and he was dead. He emblematically told himself, I was as if thrown into a boat of protons that move fast like molecules in a hot balloon, when they heat they defuse, especially in the cold water. His mind now went to gravitational fields; thinking, this is what scientists do, try to figure out, what there is to figure out, for he worked for the Los Andes Space Center high up in the Andes of Peru where he worked as a scientist, as an astrophysics technician.
“Time and Space,” he mumbled, “thermal vibrations of hot space-time took place. I was flowing between dead and life—time! I don’t know the exact formula, but time flows, location doesn’t and to the body the question asked was ‘What is the present’ for a while there was no answer for a ‘now’ answer. The present can be an illusion to the universal flow of time…”
He knew a hot body cannot become hotter through cold contact, so the dynamics of heat would say, the roots of heat has an independent nature. Heat being like a balloon, deflating unpredictable as for molecule activity. When molecules collide heat passes from the hotter body to the colder.
“The thermostat in my body sensing death, and knowing how the consciousness is formed, that is to say, 100-billion neurons in the brain being thawed out to work, likened to the 100-billion stars in the Milky Way, tells us ’…you are free to run to escape death’s claws—go!’ for there is not an ‘I’ in my neurons in my brain, the ‘I’ is formed by knowledge and culture handed down through representations. And so I stepped out of the middle of the pendulum, allegorically speaking, with what someone might call, a moment in time and space, between death and life, there was a spark, a reaction that triggered another reaction that produced heat, —perhaps God’s hands are more warming than we care to acknowledge. And this heat took precedence, and gave me back life; who’s to say, it’s all still a mystery.”