So what is very bad about Time.
As always with a question like this one mist start (and end) in Deleuze. Deleuze put his fingers on the deepest o temporal mysteries. It is neither active or passive, as it deepest level.
Time is the part to bugger up anything or everything: It is the great imposition, the great impostor in whose shadow the mind exists.
Its power is therefore it the it which thinks to remake and refashion the world even as it is.
In doubt this it remains of itself utterly paralleled.
that is the same agency which allows a mind to pull one away, would also allow it to pull another way. me might passively (and internally) wrap that time up in nice little bundles of the past, and found selves within these bundles, but the power which changes, it allows could always allow others and elsewhere.
Found founds ourselves dos so in the impossibility of allowing that elsewhere into other times and places. The times these elements utterly different to us in any one world, open up the most illicit of communications between elements which are contradictory as hen are caught ruin one mind, and yet are conjunctive as that mind was fashioned by an element which caught I up in an event.
Each mind is therefore caught up in the expressing of a difference beyond it. It is automatically merely a subset of that expression. It cannot be anything other than its subset.
Those truth it has hard won from the swarm of time will always shift and jump about.
Each element each event is therefore truly a middle for all the others. It is the element with ensures that all e others cannot ever be resolved.
S it links up elements it re-links them, or at least allows always opens always on other links. One cannot therefore ever fully recover a time. One cannot that on can exclude all possibilities or all other elements all communications of being.
Philosophy is the exploring of this clear paradox.
To live in times to catch hold of the direction and the arrow and yet time itself cannot ever be one expression of that arrow. It is the difference in the moment which defies any one giving of that arrow,
Each arrow then wraps up a, little bundle as an event and pitches it across other times, and in do so doing opens itself out to continuity.
Or perhaps better the continuity of time is the stepping beyond of asset sequence which is then pitched in the one mind as an event, and allowed to create a whole series of middle fors. That is events to flow on.
And yet in this pitching, the same element which pitcher, that is that makes the world sing according to the one event, is also operating within the event itself.
he event which pitch, the memory in whose implication live is also shifting it is nature. It is never fixed.
It is never fixed in others 9who might have wrapped up a different memory) or even in me 9in might be made to see the same element different). What appears therefore to be so simple so already conjoining with others, to pull even the simplest for away from my mind.
Event are the middle for another, both is the sense that ach event create a sudden unwound element which spins out in an apparently linear form of memory. But also at the same time, because they make ever single event a pool into which the mind falls, and from which it cannot very simply resolve itself. it is locked within itself and as itself.
One thinks one knows a truth, and then that truth turns around and clobbers ones mind.
The beauty of the system is remarkable, but so are the problems is fashion. The real problem ones from the parallelism it necessarily installs. Each mind runs endless parallel (it out of kilter) lines of continuum. These lies might be then broken time at differing point or part, and yet will remain unlocked at each and every one moment in an ocean of continuity.
The active creative element is therefore pitched outside the mind of itself. it might be thinkable and yet is cannot be realized.
This by itself might be fine. However it will still give the wrong element to the mind, in that it gives it too much and yet not enough power.
Take, that is duration, is essentially model as it tumbles into reality on my mind. That is my need (deep or otherwise) to continuity. This continuity strangles violent actions, and forces the universe to concur.
Oh event might subvert this, might be the great exception, and yet thy remain caught up in the continuity of the mind.
There remains then under the gaze of time only one element which can escape the power of continuity.
T
Now perhaps f one wants something outside this might be the price one pays. The very Kantianism implicit in this move implied surely as much. Once the mind is said to be engaging with the outside world, then it will need to e paying the price for that engagement with it own continuity.
But in our own minds is that really so? Is our time really the dreary time of continual thinking?
Of course not. linear time is not the time of being in the first place (this is being and times great claim).
Our temporality is always matter of tense. Tense which we squeeze into times arrow only at a certain point.
Moreover therefore is nothing in the reality of events as it is in the mind to prevent ones supposing it jumps about in a whole number of different direction.
It is after all that which dies linear time, while posing linear times.
If one unpicks the interests of these times, ad makes them tenses, the same element could be playing merrily hell across there differing tenses.
One would of course need still to provide an account of two to these tenses, the infinite two amongst all the others.
Her one needs care this is not infinite in the sense of huge, but rather in the sense of avoidable within the system.
One therefore sill needs the time in the sense that all matter erupts into other others. It is the hook into an eruption with others. It is their future.
One also needs the dreary world of the past and its causes, which impose a single nature after the event, and in this imposition allow an intellect other what human to invent the world (or rather one which includes humanity as a part of its infections).
But then what those causes on their implication mean to any domain within which a me could be at times asserted as a holding function, is clearly a complex and interrelated problem. That domain can take up the apparent causes and run with it as an idea (and therefore as a point of creation) to which it bares witness in a manufactured being.
The name for this manufactures being is then a tense. It is as the past that one takes the impossible tumble into the future that is apprehension and gives them an actual being. it is only then once this past is than one can inhabit it (in comprehension), as implying a present in which one actively is.
Or again it is in the movement of a difference into a future which cannot be expressed, that one grapes the nature of a created duration. One builds oneself a creation to ground that groundlessness different which is gone to the future and remain hidden their in it being.
Either Kant or Deleuze (or Heidegger with is pasts that are also a future becoming presents) the only theory is always a tense based one).
The game is then to free this tense based theory from a maze of being. That is from the necessity or duty Heidegger imposed upon it so that it had to be real. It is never reality, but the play of the mind. It is its part or point or element of creation. It is the moment the mind assumes it must be.
But likewise one must save the mind from the dreary need to belief its one black propaganda. If it beliefs itself too much and knows reality turns of it, then it immediately confuses itself with the intellect that is never its own and which would condemn it to being a mere drier locus of continuity-which dies causality in aping its effect.
It is neither, and Deleuze of course shows that.
His only limitation which remains the limitation of time, the limitation he imposed upon himself, was that it underplayed reality in the interests of (truth). That is in the name of the external it creates only one expiation, which actually the logic of the kind of reality we live in surely implies there are numerous possible anomalies, each fashioning (and then escaping) a tense. Deleuze (like Kant) give only one (or two) dimension of the sublime, and it must be task of philosophy to draw out more…A task Deleuze would and did surely love.