Time for Humanity

 We know of various segmentations of time for all realms of physical reality. There are half lives of radioactive elements as well as for fusion in the interiors of stars. Then there are the regular exudations and waves of radiation of cyclical growth and regeneration of plants and animals. These manifest themselves at the nano dimension of proteins and DNA all the way up to the level of the populations of species interactions. 

We currently have telescoped our uniquely human conception of time into a very narrow range due to fomenting of crises of potential extermination of society due to the sequalae of financial breakdown and impending global nuclear warfare. This theme of the veritable one minute to midnight syndrome is pervasive and colors all our comings and goings, willy nilly. It is a cultural pessimism that promotes a vitiated and rather ugly type  of escapism crudely dressed up as "freedom."

However, for a moment or two, let us explore an alternative perspective of a kind of potentially adjusted timeframe for humanity. Suppose we set our sites on populating Mars and terraforming it over the next century or so. Simultaneously, we will create a habitable "planetoid" fueled by matter anti matter reactions for likewise terraforming the next potentially habitable planet in the closest "Goldilocks zone" star system. This endeavor will perhaps be accomplished say in a few centuries. As part of this mission, we will also extend the health span of individual humans by many years.

What we have pointed toward here may seem like a fantastical vision of science fiction. But if we were to mentally put ourselves back  a mere say two centuries of human history would not what we take for granted as technological accomplishments seem fantastical? Thus time is relative to the happiness of humanity's mission orientation. In that sense we experience the simultaneity of eternity in the realm of scientific and artistic truly human imagination. 

To his Coy Mistress

by Andrew Marvell


Had we but world enough, and time,
This coyness, lady, were no crime.
We would sit down and think which way
To walk, and pass our long love's day;
Thou by the Indian Ganges' side
Shouldst rubies find; I by the tide
Of Humber would complain. I would
Love you ten years before the Flood;
And you should, if you please, refuse
Till the conversion of the Jews.
My vegetable love should grow
Vaster than empires, and more slow.
An hundred years should go to praise
Thine eyes, and on thy forehead gaze;
Two hundred to adore each breast,
But thirty thousand to the rest;
An age at least to every part,
And the last age should show your heart.
For, lady, you deserve this state,
Nor would I love at lower rate.

But at my back I always hear
Time's winged chariot hurrying near;
And yonder all before us lie
Deserts of vast eternity.
Thy beauty shall no more be found,
Nor, in thy marble vault, shall sound
My echoing song; then worms shall try
That long preserv'd virginity,
And your quaint honour turn to dust,
And into ashes all my lust.
The grave's a fine and private place,
But none I think do there embrace.

Now therefore, while the youthful hue
Sits on thy skin like morning dew,
And while thy willing soul transpires
At every pore with instant fires,
Now let us sport us while we may;
And now, like am'rous birds of prey,
Rather at once our time devour,
Than languish in his slow-chapp'd power.
Let us roll all our strength, and all
Our sweetness, up into one ball;
And tear our pleasures with rough strife
Thorough the iron gates of life.
Thus, though we cannot make our sun
Stand still, yet we will make him run.