We are used to thinking of what we perceive as physical objects. I am interested in the idea that our brains, which create the images we see, are expressing perceptual limits. The ocean does not end at the horizon. The horizon is just the edge of our sight.
Imagine time as a cone. There is the point at the bottom and the open mouth at the top. In these models, the point is matter and the mouth is energy. But we want to be neither. We want to be the disc that sits between the two. We don’t want to be the moon. Nor the sun. We want to be the earth.
In the same way that we can call the moon the point, the sun the open mouth, and the earth the disc that sits between the two, we could call the center of the earth the point, and make the flat disc that sits between the two at the 37th parallel. Or we can make the earth the point, the sun the flat disc, and the black hole the open mouth. What is important is the relationship; it can scale up or down.
In these models, our vision is circumscribed. At one end of time, we see light that is as dense as it can be, before becoming something else. At the other end of time, we see light that is as diffuse as it can be, before becoming something else.
We see the present. We see neither past nor future.
The light of the present, in these models, is bounded by two black holes. It is not dense enough to cross the Alpha boundary. And not diffuse enough to cross the Omega boundary.
I was talking with my friend, Martha Carlin, whose husband, John, has Parkinson’s, about my suspicion that his brain is misunderstanding the density of light. I believe he is using the moon value in place of the earth value. For Martha, it is dense light, light, and diffuse light. But for John, it may be double-dense light, dense light, and light.
I write more about this idea in a short essay, “Seeing at the Speed of Light.”
If earth is an optimum density of light, “moon” is too dense. It needs to expand, but it can’t; “sun” is holding it in place. “Sun” and “moon,” here, are twin poles of the same light. If we were to squeeze earth’s light to the density of the moon, on the other side of time, it would expand to be as diffuse as the sun. The sun, in these models, is like the moon’s halo.
It is as if we are seeing the fourth state of matter experiment writ large.
What if, with ALS (Lou Gehrig’s disease), my understanding of light is Omega-shifted. I am not viewing light—the speeding train—as itself. I am viewing light as its track (sun).
If my pineal gland is viewing the earth from the sun’s perspective, it will look too contracted. I will see too much electromagnetism outside the cell. So I will push too much inside the cell. When I push too much electromagnetism inside the cell, time explodes. When time explodes, light collapses.
What if, with Parkinson’s, my understanding of light is Alpha-shifted. I am not viewing light—the speeding train—as itself. I am viewing light as its passenger (moon).
If my pineal gland is viewing the earth from the moon’s perspective, it will look too expanded. I will see too much electromagnetism inside the cell. So I will pull too much outside the cell. When I pull too much electromagnetism outside the cell, time collapses. When time collapses, light explodes.
When I push electromagnetism outside the cell, I move backward in time (moon). As the observer moves backward in time toward “moon,” it is surrounded by dark energy.
When I pull electromagnetism inside the cell, I move forward in time (sun). As the observer moves forward in time toward “sun,” it fills with dark matter.
Scale. In these models, the earth is the same light as the sun and the moon. The earth is the baseline—light qua light. In the moon, it is maximally squeezed. In the sun, it is maximally stretched.
