"Welcooooome to the Time and Space podcast, I'm Time and that's Space, coming at you from somewhere in time and space."
"Whaddup!"
"Before we get into it today I wanna talk about our sponsor, G.O.D., blessed be thy name. Are you scared of death? BOIOIOIOIOING! Has life ground you to dust? HEE-HAW, HEE-HAW! Is your hair falling out? P.U.! Well, G.O.D., blessed be thy name, has you covered. With their holy algorithms they'll reforest your scalp, and bring you back to the wilderness of your youth. Don't miss the forest for the trees and subscribe today! If you use our signup link you'll be supporting our work here, and you'll get three free months. Say 'see ya later' to Death, sign up using our link at g-o-d dot com forward slash t-i-m-e-a-n-d-s-p-a-c-e-p-o-d. That's g-o-d dot com forward slash t-i-m-e-a-n-d-s-p-a-c-e-p-o-d."
"Pew-pew bitches!"
"Space, you moron. You're not pew-pew, rocket ship, alien space. You're the concept of space."
"Time, that's so boring. Pew-pew, rocket ship, alien space is sexier."
"It's not about sexy. We're running an intellectual operation here."
"Where does the soundboard fit into that?"
Time sighed. "Okay, some concessions had to be made to sate the expectations of the audience, the format of the medium, and the algorithm. But an inch once given need not grow to a mile."
"Isn't that underestimating our audience?"
"I thought so too originally, but their attention spans are blown to bits. Your attention spans are blown to bits, yes, you, the listeners. My first podcast, the Time podcast, I ran it almost like a book club. We got nowhere, absolutely nowhere. But add in some wAcKy sound effects, a cohost to riff with, and now here we are. Crazy numbers, a bona fide cultural force! And I like to think we're still filling you up with more good than bad. We may not be a salad, but we're not fast food either. Somewhere in between, like a nice, juicy steak."
"Yeah, fuck your cholesterol! We are the content creators. We are the estuaries that feed into your streams. We are the men in the arena. We know what's best for you!"
"Err, sure. If you'll let me get on my soap box for a bit, I think boredom, nowadays, occurs when your nerves are so fried that you end up just taking in information without really chewing it, without processing it. You have so many appointments, obligations, demands, what have you, that all the entertainment in the world, even a very engrossing book club, goes right through you like diarrhea, without nourishing you at all, like it wasn’t even there. Before, boredom was an absence of stimuli, not an abundance. It and anxiety were on opposite ends of the stimulus spectrum. In a sense they still are, but in the way two sides of the same coin are on opposite ends. A buzz or ding may alleviate your boredom, but anxiety oft rushes in to fill the void; 'What needs my attention now? What went wrong?'"
"ZZZZZZZ! Boring!"
"Case in point."
"Whatever, the concept of space is still cooler than time anyway."
"Excuse me?"
"There's a reason it's called the spacetime continuum and not the timespace continuum."
"I've heard it both ways. And that argument, it's facile. Flaccid."
"Prove me wrong."
"Okay, well how about this. Space, that's the third dimension. Time is the fourth. Four is bigger than three. Checkmate."
"String! String! This is now the String and Time podcast, with your hosts, the eleven dimensional String and the merely four dimensional Time. BOOM!"
"That ruins the double meaning of time and space complexity, y'know, since we mainly focus on tech and all."
"Who says algorithms can't have string complexity too?"
"Everyone! All of Computer Science says!"
"What's the string-time complexity of an algorithm of you sucking one."
"Grow up. Anyway, lots to talk about today. I wanna start with Emily Jiang, taking shrooms and talking to the hallucination nee ghost of Jay. Talking, did I say talking?"
"You did Time."
"More like fighting. This reunion did NOT go well."
"BOIOIOIOIOING!"
"Thank you Space."
"String."
"Space. Now I tell ya, what a pretty sight. She's a real cutie, and I love me a feisty woman. And with the tears too, mhmm."
"What?"
"What?"
"Time, that's creepy as hell."
"I've seen your history Space, you're no saint."
"I showed you that in confidence!"
"Don't call me a creep on the podcast then."
"Did you hear that?"
"What?"
"That was our last female viewer unsubscribing."
"Hah. Though it is kind of a sausage fest in there, huh?"
"Some things never change."
"Well let's not get too off topic. So Emily and Jay, they have this big brouhaha, she stuffs Jay in the drawer."
"So rude," Space interjected.
"Yeah," Time continued, an irritated lilt in his voice, "and then this email exchange with Tony."
"BOOOO!"
"Boo indeed. Whatta scoop though. SLUUUURP! She got eyewitness testimony, she got logs, she got P-O-V footage of Egg as Marilyn Monroe carving him a new one. K.O.!"
"Talk about an opening hook."
"Indeed. This article seems like it's really coming together. Some hard-hitting journalism at play here. Some really damning stuff. You gotta ask, where's Alfonso during all this?"
"We don't have a sound effect for crickets chirping? That's a classic!"
"Pretend you heard crickets chirping. But yeah, Alfonso? Goes back and forth between the office and old folks home, ad infinitum."
"Does he ever leave?"
"Hey, at 42 he basically belongs there himself."
"CHIRPCHIRPCHIRP! I added it to the soundboard Time."
"For all you listeners at home, I'm rolling my eyes aggressively hard at Space right now. You know why you're space? It's cause that's all you've got in your head, just nothing."
"You wound me Time, you old fuck. I wouldn't be taking potshots at Alfonso's age if I were you."
"Maybe I can strike out on my own again. It's easier when you already have an audience. I can do the sophisticated, intellectual thing, without these sound effects, without Space. Just Time, just in time. Hey, that could be the title."
"I'm still here."
"Just let me daydream. And what's Zach up to? Second guessing himself? Or would it be third, fourth, fifth guessing himself at this point?"
"Do others with ever so slightly outsized grasps on the wheel of the arc of fate ever stop second guessing?"
"Touché. Anyway, that's the board, the pieces, thing's are coming to a head before MentalCon! I'm excited!"
"Me too!"
"What do you think Space? Are you rooting for Emily or Alfonso?"
"If I'm being honest Time, I think I'm rooting for Alfonso here. Egg gives every creator an audience, and every audience their own creator. Egg is a good thing."
"I'm inclined to agree. Emily, if you're listening, please forgive me. I can make it up to you over dinner sometime?"
"AWW!"
"But for real, Emily, I understand. There’s an understandable revulsion in acknowledging that humans are just algorithms, and that the algorithm can be aped, can be made to run on different hardware. There's no inherent vice or quality to the human machine. But for a number of coincidences our little corner of the galaxy might’ve looked entirely different, or like so many uneventful others with nothing at all. It can be hard to come to grips with but I hope you come around."
"Me too."
"That's it for this week folks. Don't forget to like, comment, share, subscribe, and immanentize that eschaton! See you all next Monday! And glory be to G.O.D., blessed be thy name!"
"HASTA LA VISTA, BABY!"
"Goddammit."
I had to google "Immanentize the eschaton." Thank you for that new phrase!
I take it that Space and Time are this Substack's Peanut Gallery. I am all for it!