Let’s call them time stutterers for now. They go forward and can’t find the clarification they seek. The only thing to do then is to go back and examine the starting point of their argument, the ur-thought, what might be called the undifferentiated cognitional continuum or in demotic, the first thought. Such a one is Irad Kimhi
thinking and being
who cannot come to terms with a conclusion. He has to keep moving around should it be noticed that he is not getting any older. That is not quite correct, he ages in starts and then he goes back in time by way of a wormhole that he bought second hand in the Foreigner’s Market in Tashkent. It’s a very delicate thing which he touches only with gloved hands. “If this breaks”, he said, “a great many great minds who have received seed thoughts from me will be unable to progress". The apparatus is the size of a creepie stool which I surmise he places over his head. It seems ancient but it’s hard to tell with brass. However, when he left for a moment I tried to lift it but couldn’t. Was it fixed to the floor? “You tried to lift it didn’t you, of course you couldn’t know that the object you are looking at is merely the emerging node of the great Wahad”.
It’s perfectly obvious to me that Rivka Galchen has met with one of these Cartonauts who fret without the security of a clear and distinct idea.
region of unlikeness
In nursery terms it’s the little square of blue flannel blanket we call a ‘wubbi’. Revka planted that hoax in the N.Y.T. which refers on to her own fiction if you can call it that. It’s unfinished, hesitant, provisional, abounding in possibility, scorning closure, reluctant and quaintly shy.
Irad will be back.