A number is just same-space traversed between points of interest or piles of rubbish, or how many verses you can recite between labour pains, measuring the progressive elimination of space consequenting an explosion or birth or total inversion and after which point pushy dna becomes retrogressively a vestigial tag-along to inertia as encouragement begins to pull.
If time and space are said, without exception, to covary, and they must, by definition since each is measured, in fact can only be measured by measuring the other (this is the essence of the circular argument which in any other context outside of gravity and mass is discredited), then what do we do with the contradicting stances (or is it "stanzas") that there is a one-way road from a daughter to a mother to a grandmother which cannot be altered or reversed in the generative sense (it is unilinear) and the grandmother (of the future) who was conceived by the infant daughter (of the present) without invoking a property relation in a causal chain where the titles or the names we give to our terms have to undergo a change lest we're caught comparing apples and oranges?
Historical discourse extends the present or compresses time with no effect on space every time it speaks of epochs. By extending the present to include the past and future (up to any limit inclusive of each of the three terms, daughter, mother, grandmother – 'dmg', the acronym of demigods for a basic matrilineal "family"), we can note the "truth" value of both verses (or is it "versions"). In the same way, genes are used to compress time to illustrate a family tree with no regard to intervening spaces. In other words, by compressing reality (or its criteria) and with some extraction, the dmg with its extensions is a single (solid) unit identified by parts or its internal constituents. In this case the compression takes some stretching.
Both expressions are a priori truths (by definition) yet extract and compress all personal experience to construct a reality which from any other view is not only unreal but contradictory, especially when there's marriages connected to an orphan or adoptee, not to mention sampling error and sometimes just mistakes. For certainty, the only thing less fallible than science is religious faith – just ask them! Wait, was that what's known as a complete redundancy? This is why science doesn't like the food upon his plate to touch before he turns it to shit in the mass consumption. Scientific utopias must follow rules of exclusion: "no orphans (flukes and/or mutations) are allowed...we shall erase them". Like medicine and politics, experimental control is incarceration, killing off or otherwise preventing consortation between the subject and any intervening variables. It's what demonstrates the power (or the unconscious wisdom) of a theory. We therefore come to expect the experts to exhibit priestly qualities and therefore need unqualified (susceptible) judges and juries to make the final decisions in lieu of an executive with orders. What's not to trust in this?
What is really said by genetic discourse, and it's easier to follow, is that it's certain genes who reproduce and have families whose descendants travel over time through big bodies which can only travel across space. It's no cluster fuck, it's just a relay race by little bits of property. For identification purposes, these genes have to be theoretically extracted from all their cousins who might happen to, as well, have siblings not just in chimp bodies but mice and shrew-like creatures living back when dinosaurs were around. Like cholesterol, genes are indicted: certain proof is always guilt by association. It's not like proof of spirits established directly (that is, without arguing to judges or a consensus by committee) by lighting matches or in internal mediation by personally imbibing. The miracle is that the magic works at all, but that's the nature of a mystery, especially when it calls itself an exact science because it's learned to weld to anything a probability (as long as the electrodes are attached with the proper polarity). Who would dare to say they're hiding behind a cop-out blowing air?
In psychoanalytic terms, the infatuation for genetics and dna is a fetish or wish manifestation for a return to the womb, and not unlike the historic contemplation of a golden age, the last or future paradisic situation. Few will consider it but the disgruntled or disenfranchised (or those with no encouragement) whose only opinion of the present age is nasty, brutish and short (or alternatively, all too frigging long) is necessary to such backward thinking or imaginary futuristic fantasy.
Fathers are said to love their sons only because they're fathers as if it's a priori or stands to reason: "Of course I love you; I'm your father!". It means that love is tied to the title which accompanies the name so doesn't need a proof extracted from some feelings and behaviour. It means the definition of consanguineal love is just linguistic duty. The legal duty is established through genetic analysis (or a timely fucking) and is only satisfied with home and hearth or money. In the same way, since without the constraints of morality, affinal love can only be ensured not by sex as most assume (it wouldn't be timely), but with a legal contract such that the law can make it binding. Hence the common aphorism of desire: "Ah, to be young and in love" which indicates an epoch in which one didn't give a shit about political economics or the religious when contemplating relationships and then the dreamy go on to complain that the kids are innately just too young to get it or too lazy to get with it. But who but bigots would make the call for a genetical democracy? Well, there always seems to be a Bill Gates married to Monsanto.
What might Max and Dora say? Compartmentalised for whatever reason, when one becomes bonded with an idea, in need of protection or care or even display, it is a child or lover. Eyes are averted at every delinquency. It is free to move out of its compartment to explore or mingle, and there is always a room with a warm bed awaiting its return. Every transgression, if even noticed, is forgiven. Even a contrary fit disturbing its room-mates. Unconditionally, this is a no-string theory. This is maternal love fathers share, stronger than even that toward material children. "Real" children must fit, more so than even their ideal counterpart. Children won't sit still, but the ideal sets in stone, on display. Yet only well groomed and bonded ideas are truly free spirits, thoughts fully independent of the thinker. But the thinker's bond is stronger than any expression of love or hate. With love, there is absolute truth. Less, there are degrees of concern or even ambivalence. As well might be felt a true spirit possession, a prodigal idea impossible to expel. One must nurture or protect the idea even more so with each escalating demand. This is the chief risk of too firm a grasp of reality and firmly planted feet. It has a tendency to solidify one. Or the spirit achieves more rock-hardness and the person becomes a noxious vapor. It could be dangerous for bystanders.
Could it be that without an organ sensitive to time and private property, there'd be no susceptibility to sophistry? Until you drop it a handheld implement is easy to see, but where the hell's the bio-clock in Gray's Anatomy? Even a chicken who falls asleep just after sunset will repeat the act at noon when time is an illusion made by covering its head before the ice-pick's shoved right through it. In such cases, time is not just a contradiction, it's the light and dark of enlightened dis-illumination and some might say, like love, it's grounds for a retrogressive auto-contraception. But then recall, a gene is just an old expression in a world of possibility and time is just a bloated, immaterial incorporeality and before you know it, taken out from under your entirety.
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