I wear my suuuuuuuuuuuuuuuunglasses at night.
So there we were, talking about Heracles and his paradoxes, namely the illision of movement. Mr. Edgar used the example of an arrow moving through the air. According to the paradox, the arrow is not really moving. It is standing still at one finite point in time. The arrow isn't really flying through the air, it's standing still.
So I was thinking about this today, and I get it! It's like a flip book. We're not moving, we're absolutely stationary in one finite moment of time. People on flip books don't actually move, but the series of pages give the illusion of movement. We're not moving, but the succesion of finite points in time give the illusion of our movement.
And this led to another train of thought. According to Heracles' statement, we can exist on an infinite level of planes, all stationary. It's like the flip book, again. The levels of existence, the "planes," are like the pages; all finite, all stationary, all gathered together to make up "life."
Weird, huh?
Aside from my philosophical mumbo-jumbo (and I would explain the paradox of the halves but I don't want to type that much), today was pretty decent.
I didn't fall asleep in Greek, History wasn't as mind-numbingly boring as usual, and Mrs. Hiatt, in a conniption fit, extended grace to me, so I don't have to kill myself now.
I did, however, have to go the retarted band concert, which was the last thing I wanted to do today. GAH.
I'm Kay's muse/bard? Cool!
I need to actually go to sleep before 11:30 tonight.
I'm so tired.
Kay, have you figured out the person I was hinting at in that note?
::evil grin::And by the way, mi amiga, I dedicate the subject line to you.
So I was thinking about this today, and I get it! It's like a flip book. We're not moving, we're absolutely stationary in one finite moment of time. People on flip books don't actually move, but the series of pages give the illusion of movement. We're not moving, but the succesion of finite points in time give the illusion of our movement.
And this led to another train of thought. According to Heracles' statement, we can exist on an infinite level of planes, all stationary. It's like the flip book, again. The levels of existence, the "planes," are like the pages; all finite, all stationary, all gathered together to make up "life."
Weird, huh?
Aside from my philosophical mumbo-jumbo (and I would explain the paradox of the halves but I don't want to type that much), today was pretty decent.
I didn't fall asleep in Greek, History wasn't as mind-numbingly boring as usual, and Mrs. Hiatt, in a conniption fit, extended grace to me, so I don't have to kill myself now.
I did, however, have to go the retarted band concert, which was the last thing I wanted to do today. GAH.
I'm Kay's muse/bard? Cool!
I need to actually go to sleep before 11:30 tonight.
I'm so tired.
Kay, have you figured out the person I was hinting at in that note?
::evil grin::And by the way, mi amiga, I dedicate the subject line to you.