We’re all familiar with our three-dimensional world. There’s also a fourth dimension (not The Fourth Dimension, but a fourth dimension), which is time. So let’s say we can see ourselves as we ‘really are, in the fourth dimension of Time’. I think we’d look like roots or vines or worms. Different parts of our ‘worm-self’ would have different colours as we changed our clothes. We would tangle together with other ‘worms’ as our paths intersect, and occasionally become physically connected with them. We’d ingest other ‘worms’, which would later be jettisoned after we’d used the useful bits for fuel. Our length would be determined by how far we’d travelled in our lives, some ‘worms’ stretching across the planet and some that never leave a small region.
It’d be kind of like the 4th of July, when you light sparklers & wave them all over the place in the dark. Y’know, you see those little light-trails they leave behind.
Within the last year it occurred to me to develop an art project around the changing street structure of my “home town” made perhaps of wire, with one dimension representing time. This could involve spaced-apart intervals of time with nothing between except maybe a few dozen perpendicular wires at major intersections. (Or perhaps only at the corners of the selected rectangle.)
Or it could be whole planes of glass for complete temporal continuity.
I have, twice. I don’t remember worms/tunnels the first time, and friends came over the second time and insisted on talking through it. I’ll have to watch it again. Alone.
ISTM that ‘worm/tunnel’ in science fiction usually refers to Einstein-Rosen bridges.
Heinlein? This made me think of a Vonnegut book… Slaughterhouse Five. Tralfamadorians could see in four dimensions and there’s a description of what it looked like in one chapter…can’t remember where exactly though.
It was in one of his collections of short stories called “The Man Who Sold the Moon.”
It was also referenced in “Time Enough For Love” by Lazerous Long who claimed… to have visited the doctor only to be told that his life-line had no end, but that had to be a mistake so come again tomorrow when the machine is fixed. … Unfortunatly the doc died that day and the machine destroyed.
I read this ages ago as a kid, and one thing about it really stuck with me…
The plant-centaur-thing ya see on the cover there? Well, his people apparently could see in four dimensions, and the effect was EXACTLY how you described it… people appeared to be ‘worms’ stretching off into the distance, changing colors and shapes, intersecting with other worms, etc etc. If I remember properly (and I don’t) they would fade into the distance (past) and ended at the person’s current location (no future, at least not visible to them).
Hang on, let me get my copy of Madeleine L’Engle’s A Swiftly Tilting Planet…
OK, here, from page 10:
“She… looked across the room to her younger brother Charles Wallace, and to their father, who were deep in concentration, bent over the model they were building of a tesseract: the square squared, and squared again: a construction of the dimension of time. It was a beautiful and complicated creation of steel wires and ball bearings and Lucite, parts of it revolving, parts swinging like pendulums.”
That’s how I’ve always pictured it–I can’t get across to you the picture in my head in words, but if I could only draw…
That’s the book! All I could remember was the cover (is that a telepathic cougar?) and asked about it in one of those “ID this book” threads. I don’t recall the timeline viewing, though.
Kythereia, see Heinlein’s short story “And He Built a Crooked House” for some of the difficulties with tesseract models.
