THE MOBIUS STRIP



PROMETHEA, ISSUE #15. GRAPHIC BY MICK GRAY


"It is widely believed that spacetime must be both orientable and time-orientable. Arguments are that there is no evidence of a lack of orientability and that a nonorientable spacetime would be incompatible with the observed violations of P (parity) and T (time reversal invariance)."


The above quote, written by Mark J. Hadley, is found in The Orientability of Spacetime, reached through the first link below. What is not shown is the sentence that immediately follows the aforementioned quote that reads:


"These arguments are shown to be false."



So said, in turn, setting the scene for the rest of the contents of Hadley's paper. However, not everyone agrees with Hadley and scientists like him or of a similar ilk.

The first of the two links below, which includes Hadley's paper, have a favorable tendency toward support of the potential possibility of non-orientability if not an explanation of what it is. In a highly credible other view, there is an active PDF link further down that will take you to a rather extensive work by the noted physicist Stephen Hawking titled The Large Scale Structure of Space Time. In that book, on page 181 Section 6, 6.1 Hawking offers a more traditional view of Orientability. The third link directly below will take you to Section 6, 6.1. without the necessity of accessing the full book.



TIME TRAVEL: MEETING YOURSELF
(please click)


TIME PARADOX ONE:


"There had to be in existence two of me at the same time, albeit occupying separate spaces. One of me quite possibly knowing my mother died, the other still having a mother alive."


The above sentence, based on a real life happenstance, is found in the text toward the bottom of The Spiritual Elder and the Santa Fe Chief. The seed of what is behind that happenstance and how it was able to come into play to such a point that it could, would and did actually transpire, was initially set into motion primarily through the downstream outflow of the following:


"(U)nknown to me, my mother was no longer at home, having become totally unable to care for herself, so much so my dad placed her into a full care sanatorium-like hospital in Santa Barbara, California on an around the clock basis. Before my dad had a chance to respond to the couple, the couple, knowing full well that my mother was in a sanatorium, without my father's grace, took me to India, simply sending him a note saying that in the end I had changed my mind about going. While I was gone my mother died. I missed the funeral and by the time I got back my family had disintegrated, my two brothers and myself all going separate ways, my dad disappearing into the countryside heavy into alcohol."

SRI RAMANA MAHARSHI: The Last American Darshan


Traveling with the foster couple during the declining health of my mother but before her death put me as a young boy arriving at the ashram of the venerated Indian holy man the Bhagavan Sri Ramana Maharshi in Tiruvannamalai south India sometime in early January 1944 and staying to sometime after April of 1944. By all indications, as brought forth in the Raft Drift story as found in the sinking of the British motor vessel M.V. Tulagi I was most likely back in the states by June of 1944.

The M.V. Tulagi was attacked and sunk in the Indian Ocean by the German submarine U-532 March 27, 1944. Survivors, after 58 days adrift in the open sea, ended with only seven of the 15 crewmembers left alive that were able to make it into two lifeboats out of the original 54 crewmembers, landing on Bijoutier, a tiny island of the Alphonse Group belonging to the Outer Islands of the Seychelles. Well after the sinking, but still well within the time period of the drift, I was returning to the U.S. onboard a ship in the Indian Ocean when some onboard passengers reported seeing a lifeboat sometime toward the end of May, 1944. If it was one of the rafts from the Tulagi, and I am almost sure it would have to have been because of it's description, it would put me back in the states sometime in June, 1944.(see)

The June, 1944 date is fairly solid assumption anyway in that I was on my way to California from Pennsylvania via Chicago as a passenger on the all first class Santa Fe Chief being pulled by a powerful Baldwin built 4-8-4 Northern bearing the Santa Fe ID #3774. Outside Williams, Arizona, on the night of July 3, 1944, the train derailed in a high speed crash, killing the fireman and three passengers, while injuring 113 passengers and 13 train employees.

The wreck left whoever I was traveling with being either too hospitalized or too injured to oversee me. Because of same my uncle, who lived in Santa Fe, New Mexico, and the closest relative to my location was contacted. While waiting for him to show up, which took a day or two longer than expected, he called a close-by tribal spiritual elder he knew to fill in for him until he was able to get to Williams. It is fair to say the spiritual elder sitting around inside of a train station all day long between the occasional train wasn't exactly what I would call his particular forte'. At the end of the second day, the spiritual elder seemed to have had enough and decided he needed more open space around him. Just after sundown of the second full day basically after just hanging around inside a stuffy train station or sitting on shipping boxes and crates in the shade along the wall of the loading dock, without any real discussion between us, we started walking eastward along the railroad tracks for some distance before turning south into the desert, the two of us ending up camping overnight along the Rio Felix in New Mexico.

The opening quote at the top of this section is from the source so cited. Although the paragraph is taken out of context having been extrapolated from a much longer text, it cuts to the quick quite clearly about my mother, the foster couple, me going to India, etc. It also brings to light the fact that while I was gone my mother died and I missed the funeral. It happened that way because of me having left for India late in the year 1943 and not returning to the states until June of 1944, meaning by inference according to the quote, that it was during that six month time frame that my mother died. Taken to the extreme then, by inference it would also mean that my mother was alive at least right up to my departure and possibly sometime shortly after. So too, most likely right up to my departure I was in the U.S. on U.S. soil because as I have stated elsewhere I went to Santa Barbara with both of my real parents sometime in 1943. The question is, if I was with my parents or even the foster couple how is it during the same 1943 period I was able to hole up for the night along the Rio Felix in New Mexico with the spiritual elder waiting for my uncle to show up? There had to be in existence two of me at the same time, albeit occupying separate spaces. One of me quite possibly knowing my mother died, the other still having a mother alive. Truth be told however, when I was traveling with the spiritual elder I had no clue it was not, not 1944. It was only years later that I discovered the incident along the Rio Felix involving the German POWs was 1943. Again:


"There had to be in existence two of me at the same time, albeit occupying separate spaces. One of me quite possibly knowing my mother died, the other still having a mother alive."


THE SPIRITUAL ELDER AND THE SANTA FE CHIEF



TIME PARADOX TWO:


"Once through the main portal the time associated within the walls of the monastery and the land beyond flowed like the surface of a Mobius Strip, non-orientable."


When I was first putting forth the events as so cited in The Code Maker, The Zen Maker, which deals with the mysterious hermitage said to exist somewhere beyond time in a remote area of the Himalayas known under a variety of names such as Gyanganj, Shambhala or Shangri-la, in that I was personally coming from the Siddhis side of things, I never placed what I was writing, at least as I saw it then, into a time travel frame of reference. Many readers saw it differently. For them, discounting Siddhis and moving the events into a time travel schemata seemed to make what I presented somewhat more understandable. In an effort on my part to make all of it more understandable I wrote the page Analogies In Time and Space listed below as well as suggesting reading additional material falling into the same realm, almost all of which can be found in the following footnote:[1]


TWO-WAY THERMODYNAMICS: COULD IT HAPPEN?


LARGE SCALE STRUCTURE OF SPACE TIME


INCIDENT AT SUPAI
A SHAMANIC JOURNEY OUTSIDE THE TRADITION


Over and over in my works I write about Captain Midnight, primarily because of the Captain Midnight Code-O-Graphs and the weaved thread of how one of the decoders impacted a large portion of my life from childhood through to adulthood. However, there was another childhood hero that had an impact on my life as well, and, unlike Captain Midnight, he was in a sense a time traveler. I'm speaking of, of course, Buck Rogers.

Buck Rogers was not a person of the 25th century, but from our times. He was, like Captain Midnight, a pilot in World War One. After the war, sometime around age 29 or so he got trapped in a mine permeated with a gas that "defied chemical analysis" which put him into a deep state of suspended animation. Five hundred years later the mine shaft reopened and he awoke to find himself alive and well into the 25th century.


BUCK ROGERS
HIS HISTORY AND EVOLUTION


H.G. WELLS: THE TIME MACHINE

FOR ANY OR ALL OF THE THREE VIRSIONS SHOWN BELOW PLEASE CLICK IMAGES

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RETURN TO:

THE CODE MAKER, THE ZEN MAKER

SHANGRI-LA, SHAMBHALA, GYANGANJ, BUDDHISM AND ZEN





E-MAIL
THE WANDERLING

(please click)



As to the subject of donations, for those of you who may be interested in doing so as it applies to the gratefulness of my works, I invariably suggest any funds be directed toward THE WOUNDED WARRIOR PROJECT and/or THE AMERICAN RED CROSS.





















Footnote [1]


"That is to say, if the past and the future exist in the physical way that the present does, we have no way of knowing it, because we only experience the present. And yet, if the past and future don't exist, then what exactly are we measuring when we measure time?"

AN ANALYSIS OF THE CONCEPT OF TIME OF ST. AUGUSTINE, linked below


TIME TRAVEL


MOBIUS STRIP TIME LOOP


ANALOGIES IN TIME AND PLACE


ON TIME TRAVEL: VISITING THE PAST


ENLIGHTENMENT AND TIME: NAGARJUNA'S CONCEPT


AN ANALYSIS OF THE CONCEPT OF TIME OF ST. AUGUSTINE


MOBIUS STRIP



















There is some rather substantial information regarding the life raft itself the woman of the couple I was fostered to reported seeing that I have, except in another footnote somewhere, really not delved into previously at any length.

While it is true the woman of the couple was far from clear regarding any survivors alive or dead or none at all in the letter she wrote to my dad, she did mention the raft itself --- slightly. Because of what she mentioned didn't really add up relative to anything I knew or was familiar with at the time I pretty much passed on it. The thing is, her description of what she said she saw and what I sluffed off, turned out to be closer to reality than not. She said what other passengers were claiming to be a life raft, to her, from the distance she saw it, it looked more like a bunch of barrels stuffed together in huge wooden orange crate than anything else. When I read the letter and tried to picture what she was talking about, the first thing that popped into my mind was a couple of model wooden trains I put together and painted from two kits when I was a kid.

One model was a train called the Dewitt Clinton and the other was the William Galloway, both early steam locomotives and both, to carry water, had little wooden barrels stacked into gondola cars behind the coal car. The rafts on the Tulagi, as pictured below and of which I only learned of many years after reading the woman's letter, were open 6 x 8 x 3 feet with forty-four gallon drums as flotation devices housed in open wooden frame. The rafts could be operated from either side and 10 persons could easily fit into each raft. If you compare the two graphics below you might get an idea why the wooden models from my childhood popped into my head.


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THE LIVERPOOL LETTER