Cover for What Is Pace: a faint teal dial with a copper hand on cold blue-grey paper, the year 1955 ghosted at the lower right.

What Is Pace

You were taught that a period of time has a speed — that the fifties were slow and the world has accelerated. The foundation I work from says frequency is undefined at the boundary that sentence points at, so a period has no rate to have: a pace is an arithmetic done here, marks counted against a counter, both read in the present. That is why every century files the same complaint about acceleration, why two people in one hour honestly report opposite speeds, and why the decades most people file as slower are, on the measured ratio, the faster ones. … readWhat Is Pace

Newsprint-coloured cover with a red line drawn across it under the title What Is a Deadline, and the letters FRI faint in the corner.

What Is a Deadline

A deadline is supposed to be a point ahead of you that approaches, arrives and passes, weighing more the nearer it gets. The foundation says there is nothing ahead of you: a deadline is a present mark that names a clock reading and a condition on the record, and the weight is not the nearness of the date but your own reading of your own unfinished act against the prediction the mark installed — which is why an extension relieves before any work is done, why a deadline you never heard of weighs nothing as it passes, and why the hopelessly late go calm. … readWhat Is a Deadline

Pale limestone cover with the title What Is Age, the word Age in italic verdigris, and a faint R5 glyph in the corner.

What Is Age

Age is supposed to be the time a thing has behind it, and older is supposed to mean farther back. Duration is undefined exactly where that picture stores it: an age is a count taken in the present, between two marks, against a counter you chose to trust — which is why a bronze can lose two thousand years in an afternoon and a wedding can feel nearer than last year’s job. … readWhat Is Age