Days of Future Past

 

Just watched the latest turnaround Doctor Who: a meta-fest of reincarnations in more ways than normal with regard to this saga. I hesitate to use the awful term 'franchise', and 'saga' is pretty much what the series has proven to be, with echoes of all the great folk myths deep within its narrative structure. Time and mortality, rebirth and reincarnation: the core of human philosophy, it's hopes, fears and understanding. The conundrum of human consciousness and understanding is that we know nothing outside our present being; which is itself fleeting, evanescent, but paradoxically eternal: we see no end to our being, even whilst knowing full well our inevitable non-being.

Tomorrow is my sixty-eighth birthday: not anything I would seek to write home about, as I haven't really sought to celebrate my age-stages since I was twenty-one, at the very latest. But the day after tomorrow is the day my Dad died, ten years ago. I like to think the big man waited just those twenty-fours past my birthday before passing, ill as he was: fanciful, maybe, but a nice thought, nevertheless. My Mom, too, has been dead these last fifteen years, come next month, no more than five years senior of my current age. Time passes, but it - time itself - will end, at some time future past, long after we have all ceased to exist: to turn around yet again and reinvent itself and spawn yet another universe...

 

 


Comments

  1. Just picked this up. Very Happy belated Birthday Greetings Kel. Trust all well.

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