July 28, 2014 2:03 am Published by Leave your thoughts

I have always found it almost impossible to understand Einstein’s meaning of Relativity.

Still keenly interested I bought and read both volumes in 1980.

I well remember that day
For then I became the genius that I am not

And went home to sit in the garden and read
The secrets of the universe
Had a barbecue and played with two podgy infants
Blowing huge bubbles with Auntie Jessie
Whose Irishness made my very words melt into Joycean chamber music
Which actually was about someone pissing into a pot.

But I digress.
This happens when you are a genius. A diarrhoea of words.

So, ” the only justification for our concepts and system of concepts is that they serve to represent the complex of our experience; beyond this they have no legitimacy “.

I agree. I have often said that before. Many times.

And made it sound so fine
In Irish in our own land of Palestine.

Ergo, easy peasy: a physics theory is basically the construction of a theoretical model of the world of physics and that model then embodies a system of concepts so that it serves to represent ” the complex of our experiences “.

Reader, are you still with me or has your brain benumbed itself into blissful slumber?

” The complex of our experiences ! “
Do you understand? Do you see? Do you not feel?

So we have congruence, constancy, bodies of reference, space of reference, time;
An ‘x’ here and an ‘x’ there followed by space belonging to body A Moving towards body B.

There, it really is that easy.

But then, there is the difficulty, we produce a finite but unbounded universe.
We produce a series of wonderful contradictions
That then make flat beings with flat implements.

Cogito ergo sum – or is it?

I read and re-read Einstein.
I decorated my stairs with his books.
I must be the only English literature doctor who loves physics

And understands neither it nor English literature.

I even went to Bern and rode on the tram looking for tall creatures and bent buildings
And pretended that I loved a member of the royal household
Whom I impregnated with a schizophrenic mathematical genius

And left to live with my slippers in Massachusetts.

Then, epiphany of epiphanies (aye, me is spiritual too) I understood it all – every bit of it.

I met Sue.
Fell in love.
Grew younger. Found constancy. Congruence.

Reference to bodies, space and time became the norm. And time became relative.

Two atomic clocks, one left with Sue
Another fired in the rocket of my departure.
I travel muchly, fatigue myself phoning every five minutes
And doing little work and less anything else.
I return a day later and
Lo and behold: She has grown younger because she did not age
And I older by the hundred years of solitude experienced being away from each other.
Or is it because she uses oil that fights the seven signs of ageing Which are: the worry over ageing
The price of the cream
The fact that all the models advertising it are twelve
That an iron would not flatten my ageing wrinkles (ooops laughter lines for I am a man – only women wrinkle) … et cetera … et cetera …

That was exactly what that twit Albert meant: E=MC 2

Where E is our love

M is the time spent apart

C is the speed of missing each other

Squared because so agonising.

And through that I have also discovered the theory of everything: The love each to each
Makes life a little peach
And aren’t rhymes so bloody untrue

And not perfect like my little —

Enough. This is revolting stuff. But is it not heaven itself to those truly in love?
And physics makes two times in one so possible
So Palestine and Israel can also both be one.


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This post was written by Faysal Mikdadi

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