Thursday, 18 April 2013

Measuring Time


Measuring Time ©
By Michael Casey

Just a  tic, in the nick of time, with seconds to spare, his time had come, time had run out for him, dickory dickory doc, the clock struck one, with a slap a new life was born, he sighed his last breath and he was gone, Time had ran out for him.
All of these expressions speak of time, they are measurements of time, time is measured and commented upon. So why are we obsessed with time, I speak as a lover of watches, ones with Roman numerals and automatic, but I’m wasting time.
Measuring time began with the monks, they had to say their prayers throughout the day and night so a candle was used and it had marks, notches on it so the friars could get up and pray, otherwise it would be more than the flames of a candle which would flicker, it would be the flames of Hell itself. So Time and time keeping were vital. Yes we all know about 2013 being the end of the world according to the Myan calendar, that was wrong though, you can discuss it yourself later on. And yes we all know that Stonehenge was a timepiece too, and the Pyramids were whatever they were too, plenty to Google later on.
In Chaplin’s Modern Times we see that time is money, and so it is, Henry Ford and production lines were so organised to optimise time so that more product could be made. Das Capital by Marx was written after observations of the cotton mills of Manchester as Marx went around with Engels, or that’s how I remember it from History, you can cross check my facts later on. From there you get “the means of production should be owned/used by the workers for the workers” And the rest is History.
Historical events are a means to measure Time, each event displays how Time is used or abused and its effects on the populace. The Manhattan Project  was a race against time, to shorten the war by years, morality and time on a collision course. Before it was tested some of the scientists thought it could bring about the end of Time, because they feared the atmosphere itself would be set alight, so ending Mankind’s Time.
Nature is the earth’s own time, turning tides and the seasons mark the  earth’s orbit in time and space. Earthquakes and volcanoes act like mini alarm clocks to awaken us to the fact that we are merely ants on the surface of the globe. The Spring bloom is a wonderful reminder of the cycle of life, of nature’s clock. The harvest is the results of nature’s hard work. Autumn and Winter too remind us of Nature’s need of rest, the earth sleeps, but in the Spring there will be growth as Chance the Gardiner did say in Being There.
We love our watches which have moved on since candles were first used to measure time, perhaps a watch with a 3D image of a candle burning will be the next design by Omega or Oris, it may have already been designed. We like to think we are in  charge of time, pocket watches became wrist watches during the Great War, when a whistle blowing was signalling end of time for millions as they went over the top in the Battle of The Somme. So why is time so important? It’s because our lives are so ordered and regimented, a time to sleep, a time to sing, a time to work, a time to eat, a time for sex, a time for everything. As we look at our watches and clocks we have become like Chaplin in Modern Times, we have become part of the machine, we have lost our soul.
So what should this lover of watches advise? Should you all take off your fancy watches and send them to me? Could I turn them into an artistic mobile and call it Time? Should we all refuse to look at clocks just follow the rhythm of our bodies, getting up when we feel refreshed and eating whenever we are hungry, and only working in the fields to produce our own daily bread, clocks 500 years ago only had an hour hand, we were less rushed then. Should we all remove the minute hands from our watches and clocks, we should just follow La Dolce Vita?
Sitting on a rock at the end of the Cromane Peninsula in Kerry Eire, now that was perfect peace for me, just watching the water lap against the shore, looking over at Inch on the Dingle Peninsula. I suppose God doesn’t have a watch, he has Nature and the tides of the Sea, and in the end that’s the perfect watch for me.

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