WEBVTT - Season 08 Episode 6: Time is Gone, the Song is Over

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<v Speaker 1>When we think of time, the first thing we think

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<v Speaker 1>of are units of measurement past, present, future, seconds, minutes, hours.

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<v Speaker 1>In the love song of j Alfred prufrock, T, s

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<v Speaker 1>Eliot writes, I have measured out my life in coffee spoons,

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<v Speaker 1>and I suspect that many of us have developed similar

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<v Speaker 1>idiosyncratic methods for marking time. Our time on Earth being limited,

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<v Speaker 1>how else we expected to take stock of our place

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<v Speaker 1>in the universe if not through quantification. Our relationship with

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<v Speaker 1>time is one of the first things we learn when

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<v Speaker 1>our parents and school teachers educators on the correct way

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<v Speaker 1>to read a clock. Our working lives and labour are

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<v Speaker 1>remunerated in money, which is often valued on the time

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<v Speaker 1>we dedicate to a given task. But there is something

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<v Speaker 1>ineffable about time in moments when we drift away only

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<v Speaker 1>to find that several minutes or several hours more than

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<v Speaker 1>what we'd bargained for passed by unnoticed like a flock

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<v Speaker 1>of migrating birds. Why does a boring task seem to

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<v Speaker 1>take so much longer than one we enjoy. We feel

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<v Speaker 1>it when we're sleeping, too, not only via the slow

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<v Speaker 1>dictations of our body clocks, subject as they are to

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<v Speaker 1>circadian rhythms and the hormonal balances of melatonin. But in

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<v Speaker 1>the days, months, and years that seem to play out

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<v Speaker 1>in our dreams, only for us to then waken from

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<v Speaker 1>a single night of slumber. Time also seems to constrict

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<v Speaker 1>as we get older. Where days to us as children

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<v Speaker 1>seemed endless, as adults, weeks can seem to go by

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<v Speaker 1>in the blink of an eye, to the point we

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<v Speaker 1>find ourselves like Sandy Denny, perennially asking who knows where

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<v Speaker 1>the time goes? With that in mind, it might not

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<v Speaker 1>surprise you to learn that the concept of time is

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<v Speaker 1>far from straightforward. In theoretical physics, the problem of time

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<v Speaker 1>refers to the conflict between Einstein's theory of general relativity

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<v Speaker 1>and more recent developments in quantum mechanics. Given some of

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<v Speaker 1>our previous examinations of quantum concepts on the show, it

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<v Speaker 1>may surprise you to know that the field of quantum

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<v Speaker 1>mechanics does not permit the possibility of time travel. That,

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<v Speaker 1>for all of its revolutionary potential with regards to overturning

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<v Speaker 1>Newtonian ideas about a fixed and stable universe, it still

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<v Speaker 1>regards the flow of time as all encompassing and absolute

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<v Speaker 1>general relativity meanwhile, regards time like space, as a malleable thing,

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<v Speaker 1>something which is dependent not only on the experience of

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<v Speaker 1>the beholder, but which is ordered by the speed and

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<v Speaker 1>distance at which they move. The conflict arises at the

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<v Speaker 1>sub atomic level, where no known physical laws requires the

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<v Speaker 1>movement of time in a single direction. Given that this

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<v Speaker 1>is so, since inasmuch as we seem to experience it,

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<v Speaker 1>time is a very real and observable phenomenon, why should

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<v Speaker 1>it follow that time only ever appears to move forward,

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<v Speaker 1>if meaning an order all moved toward entropy. Why is

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<v Speaker 1>it that the deeper we delve into the building blocks

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<v Speaker 1>of the universe, patterns break down and tend towards something

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<v Speaker 1>a little more nebulous. You're listening to unexplained, and I'm

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<v Speaker 1>Richard mc lean smith. Uncertainty regarding the nature of time

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<v Speaker 1>has led to some of the most captivating philosophical conundrums

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<v Speaker 1>in human history. It has produced art, music, poetry, and

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<v Speaker 1>prose that not only continues to endure through time, you

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<v Speaker 1>might even say transcend it, but also provides fertile ground

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<v Speaker 1>for the creation of new work. From depictions of time

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<v Speaker 1>travel in Emily Saint John Mandal's The Sea of Tranquility

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<v Speaker 1>to the dilation, expansion, and quickening of time in films

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<v Speaker 1>like Christopher Nolan's Inception and Interstellar. Our obsession with the

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<v Speaker 1>subject seems as much to do with it our own

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<v Speaker 1>mortality as with any grander notions about unlocking the secrets

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<v Speaker 1>of the universe. Perhaps that's why more anecdotal examples of

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<v Speaker 1>time strangeness captivators. So I find myself frequently traveling through

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<v Speaker 1>time whenever I'm with my daughter, my brain fragmenting into

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<v Speaker 1>sections of a strange loop where at once I am

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<v Speaker 1>with my daughter as her parent in the present, but

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<v Speaker 1>then I'm suddenly cast back into the past, picturing the

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<v Speaker 1>moment from her point of view as a reflection of

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<v Speaker 1>my own memory of being with my father when I

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<v Speaker 1>was a child, while simultaneously I find myself also projecting

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<v Speaker 1>the experience forward, imagining a time in the future when

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<v Speaker 1>she is as old as I am now, reflecting back

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<v Speaker 1>on her own memories of being a child with me

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<v Speaker 1>in this moment. Alas this is of course only the

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<v Speaker 1>illusion of time travel, a trick of the imagination, but

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<v Speaker 1>might it actually be possible to travel purposely through time?

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<v Speaker 1>Or will it forever be nothing more than an imaginative

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<v Speaker 1>device through which to convey longing and nostalgia, or, in

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<v Speaker 1>some cases, a way to overcome regret. Perhaps maybe the

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<v Speaker 1>answer lies in one of the UK's great cities, a

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<v Speaker 1>northwestern port town famous for its music, proud industrial heritage,

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<v Speaker 1>and brimming with a passion unlike any found in places

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<v Speaker 1>of similar size and significance. I'm talking, of course, about

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<v Speaker 1>the city of Liverpool and the baffling phenomenon of the

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<v Speaker 1>bold Street time slips. Sean's chest felt tight as he ran.

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<v Speaker 1>Despite his youth at just nineteen years old, something in

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<v Speaker 1>the air seemed to weigh on him as he moved.

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<v Speaker 1>He found it difficult to understand. He was frequently running

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<v Speaker 1>like this, so it played on his mind that now,

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<v Speaker 1>on to day, of all days, his body seemed to

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<v Speaker 1>be betraying him while his opponent closed in as wasn't

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<v Speaker 1>a competitive race though, or a football match, for the

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<v Speaker 1>person Shorn was running from was a middle aged security guard.

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<v Speaker 1>It was a warm spring day in two thousand and six,

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<v Speaker 1>and Shorn had just Pilford a handful of clothes from

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<v Speaker 1>a shop on Hanover Street in the middle of the city.

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<v Speaker 1>He felt his breath, leaving him more and more the

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<v Speaker 1>closer toward the city center he got. He could hear

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<v Speaker 1>the guards huffing as he drew breath between shouts, and

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<v Speaker 1>it seemed his only recourse was to try for something

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<v Speaker 1>desperate in a bid to lose his pursuer and by

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<v Speaker 1>himself more time. Shawn veered into a dead end enclosure

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<v Speaker 1>of the city's main thoroughfare at Bold Street Brook's Alley.

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<v Speaker 1>He read on the sign upp ahead. It would have

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<v Speaker 1>to do. He took a turn between some bins and

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<v Speaker 1>dropped down on his haunches. He spluttered on the moisture

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<v Speaker 1>in his throat and slowly gathered his breath. It was

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<v Speaker 1>then he noticed something odd, how old everything looked, the

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<v Speaker 1>archaic galvanized metal bins with the rattling tin lids, the

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<v Speaker 1>fluttering newspaper segments and stray cigarette butts. Curious as still

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<v Speaker 1>was that there was no sign of the security guard.

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<v Speaker 1>The tightness in Shorn's chest reached an almost unbearable crescendo.

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<v Speaker 1>Fearful of an asthma attack from which he'd suffered as

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<v Speaker 1>a child, Sean cautiously stood up and made his way

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<v Speaker 1>to the alley's entrance to see if there was any

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<v Speaker 1>sign of his pursuer. Perhaps the security guard had finally

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<v Speaker 1>stopped to put a call into the police, perhaps they'd

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<v Speaker 1>be waiting for him when he emerged into the daylight.

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<v Speaker 1>But as he stepped back onto Hanover Street, sew noticed

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<v Speaker 1>that not only was everything in the alleyway old fashioned

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<v Speaker 1>and strange, now the entire city was too. The road

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<v Speaker 1>works he'd passed while running away were gone. Even the

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<v Speaker 1>cars were different, odd shaped, brown, electric, blue, and white,

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<v Speaker 1>seeming to sputter and rattle as plumes of toxic smoke

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<v Speaker 1>belowed out of their exhaust pipes. People's clothes seemed different.

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<v Speaker 1>The men wore trilby hats and long coats, the women

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<v Speaker 1>Bobby's socks, long skirts and blouses. For a moment, he

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<v Speaker 1>wondered if he'd stepped onto a TV set, something like

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<v Speaker 1>that Heartbeat show his mum liked to watch on Sundays.

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<v Speaker 1>Sean took his mobile phone out of his pocket, but

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<v Speaker 1>he couldn't get a signal. He walked a short distance

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<v Speaker 1>to a kiosk selling newspapers. When he read the front page,

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<v Speaker 1>he noticed in shock that it too was wrong. Daily post.

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<v Speaker 1>It read May eighteenth, nineteen sixty seven. He continued up

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<v Speaker 1>Ball Street to H. Samuel, a brand which, though the

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<v Speaker 1>shop front still looked old, was at least something he recognized.

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<v Speaker 1>He tried his phone again, and this time the signal

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<v Speaker 1>clicked through. When he looked around one once more, he

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<v Speaker 1>found that everything seemed to have returned to the present.

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<v Speaker 1>People were now wearing tracksuits, jeans, trainers and T shirts.

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<v Speaker 1>The display window of H. Samuel was now in full color,

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<v Speaker 1>in remarkable contrast to the drab, beige landscape he just

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<v Speaker 1>emerged from. But when he looked down the street from

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<v Speaker 1>the direction he just traveled, he was startled to see

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<v Speaker 1>the people there still looked as though they were walking

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<v Speaker 1>around in nineteen sixty seven. Thoroughly freaked out and with

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<v Speaker 1>his chest now all but closed over from panic, he

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<v Speaker 1>jumped on to the first bus he saw, then made

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<v Speaker 1>his way home. Also, it was, according to Sean, when

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<v Speaker 1>a local journalist caught wind of his strange story, he

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<v Speaker 1>decided to interview him for the Liverpool Echo. The journalist

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<v Speaker 1>was understandably scared upon going into the meeting, but when

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<v Speaker 1>he emerged he was thoroughly rattled by how sincere Sean

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<v Speaker 1>had seemed, how adamant that this had happened to him.

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<v Speaker 1>The journalist may have first dismissed the story as some

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<v Speaker 1>drink induced vision or the drug addle testimony of a

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<v Speaker 1>young person who, after all, had been engaged in an

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<v Speaker 1>act of criminality when it occurred, but he couldn't shake

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<v Speaker 1>the fact that during their conversation, Sean had repeated the

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<v Speaker 1>same account over four times with no deviation, seeming almost

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<v Speaker 1>on the point of tears, So desperate was he to

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<v Speaker 1>be believed. The journalist eventually tracked down the security guard

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<v Speaker 1>who'd chased Sean that day, only to find that he

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<v Speaker 1>too seemed equally rattled by the experience. As he explained

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<v Speaker 1>to the journalist, it seemed to him that when Shawn

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<v Speaker 1>turned down Brooks Alley just ahead of him, he seemed

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<v Speaker 1>to completely vanish into thin air. A story such as

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<v Speaker 1>Shan's might be easier to dismiss if it wasn't for

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<v Speaker 1>the fact that when the journalist from the Echo checked

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<v Speaker 1>the historical details he'd been provided, they apparently matched up

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<v Speaker 1>exactly with what existed in May nineteen sixty seven. The

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<v Speaker 1>security guard's corroboration could have simply been an expedient way

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<v Speaker 1>of explaining why he hadn't caught the shoplifter, But it

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<v Speaker 1>didn't explain Shawn's motivation for opening up in the first place.

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<v Speaker 1>Not only was there the potential for ridicule, but he

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<v Speaker 1>also ran the risk of marking himself out as a criminal,

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<v Speaker 1>and so at the very least Sean and the security

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<v Speaker 1>guard it seemed truly believed what they'd experienced. As it happens,

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<v Speaker 1>Sean's story wasn't the first of its kind. Back in

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<v Speaker 1>July nineteen ninety six, off duty police officer Frank and

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<v Speaker 1>his wife Carol were out for a stroll in Liverpool's

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<v Speaker 1>city center. They'd come in for the day from Melling

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<v Speaker 1>on the outskirts of town so that Carol could pick

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<v Speaker 1>up a copy of Irvin Welsh's blistering novel Trainspotting. She'd

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<v Speaker 1>been excited to read it since the award winning Danny

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<v Speaker 1>Boyle film adaptation of the book several months earlier. She

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<v Speaker 1>thought it would be good for Frank two to get

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<v Speaker 1>out of the house for some well earned r and

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<v Speaker 1>r from the stresses of its job. As the couple

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<v Speaker 1>emerged from Lord Street onto the same Hanover Street that

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<v Speaker 1>Sean had been running down, Frank bumped into an old

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<v Speaker 1>friend from school. He lost sight of Carol, but knew

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<v Speaker 1>that he'd find her in Dylan's, the bookshop they were

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<v Speaker 1>heading to, located at the bottom of Bold Street. After

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<v Speaker 1>chatting with his friend for several moments, Frank ambled up

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<v Speaker 1>the street with his bags, heading towards the book shop.

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<v Speaker 1>But when he looked up, he saw, with some surprise,

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<v Speaker 1>not the name Dylan's, but Crips written above the door

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<v Speaker 1>of the store in old fashioned cursive. Meanwhile, rather than

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<v Speaker 1>a neat display of books in the shop window, Frank

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<v Speaker 1>saw only department store Mannikins. He wandered for a moment

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<v Speaker 1>if Carol had given him the wrong address for the bookshop.

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<v Speaker 1>Frank turned at the sound of a vehicle heading down

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<v Speaker 1>the street, a van with the name Cardins written on

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<v Speaker 1>the side. When it honked its horn at a passing pedestrian,

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<v Speaker 1>it sounded jarring the old fashion to Frank, almost like

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<v Speaker 1>the vehicles he remembered from his childhood. Like Sean. He

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<v Speaker 1>then noticed that the people around him seemed to be

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<v Speaker 1>dressed in unusual clothes, a mixture of sports jackets, oxford brogues,

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<v Speaker 1>slacks and pinafore dresses. For the women. He noticed the

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<v Speaker 1>almost demure shying away from color in everyone's outfits, almost

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<v Speaker 1>as if brightness had been avoided at all costs lest

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<v Speaker 1>they stand out. The other vehicles he spotted were older models, too,

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<v Speaker 1>bygone English makes that reminded him of his uncles and

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<v Speaker 1>grandfather Morris and Leyland Vauxhall's and MG Minnie and Morgan,

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<v Speaker 1>all leaded petrol and clattering exhausts. Feeling a panic rise

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<v Speaker 1>up in sight, Frank searched desperately for something familiar, then

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<v Speaker 1>spotted a young woman wearing modern clothes more suited to

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<v Speaker 1>the nineteen nineties, a lime colored sleeveless top and low

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<v Speaker 1>rise hipster jeans. The woman was standing in front of

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<v Speaker 1>where he thought the bookshop should have been, and the

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<v Speaker 1>look on her face told Frank that she was just

0:17:21.560 --> 0:17:26.000
<v Speaker 1>as confused as he was. Frank headed over to her

0:17:26.359 --> 0:17:29.520
<v Speaker 1>and followed her into the store, only to find then,

0:17:29.920 --> 0:17:34.280
<v Speaker 1>much to his relief, that things had inexplicably reverted back

0:17:34.359 --> 0:17:38.200
<v Speaker 1>to the present. The woman turned to look at him,

0:17:38.520 --> 0:17:43.360
<v Speaker 1>remarking the amused expression on his face that was strange,

0:17:43.480 --> 0:17:48.360
<v Speaker 1>wasn't it, she said, before disappearing back into the street.

0:17:57.920 --> 0:18:01.600
<v Speaker 1>For many what gives Frank's storey ry credibility is the

0:18:01.600 --> 0:18:05.160
<v Speaker 1>fact that Frank is a former police officer who, despite

0:18:05.200 --> 0:18:08.399
<v Speaker 1>the risk of ridicule, as always stood by the more

0:18:08.560 --> 0:18:13.879
<v Speaker 1>fantastical aspects of his story. Cripps and Gardins were well

0:18:13.920 --> 0:18:18.720
<v Speaker 1>known Liverpool brands, and in twenty twenty three, the BBC's

0:18:18.960 --> 0:18:22.760
<v Speaker 1>Uncanny TV show even managed to track down a woman

0:18:23.040 --> 0:18:26.280
<v Speaker 1>who claimed to be the elusive woman that Frank met

0:18:26.720 --> 0:18:32.320
<v Speaker 1>that day. Her name was Julie French. When Julie spoke

0:18:32.400 --> 0:18:36.359
<v Speaker 1>to the show, she not only corroborated Frank's story, but

0:18:36.480 --> 0:18:39.439
<v Speaker 1>claimed that she'd gone on to experience a number of

0:18:39.520 --> 0:18:43.800
<v Speaker 1>other time slips in her life since then. I thought

0:18:43.840 --> 0:18:46.720
<v Speaker 1>it was some kind of promotion or something to do

0:18:46.760 --> 0:18:50.920
<v Speaker 1>with the war, Julie said, then in her twenties, now

0:18:51.000 --> 0:18:54.439
<v Speaker 1>in her fifties. But when I looked down at the floor,

0:18:54.920 --> 0:18:59.520
<v Speaker 1>the pavement seemed to go darker. I turned around, and

0:18:59.560 --> 0:19:03.080
<v Speaker 1>as I looked up Bold Street, I saw about thirteen

0:19:03.119 --> 0:19:08.120
<v Speaker 1>people walking by, all dressed in nineteen forties coats and hats.

0:19:09.040 --> 0:19:12.680
<v Speaker 1>Even more significant, she said, was on the day it happened,

0:19:12.720 --> 0:19:16.439
<v Speaker 1>in June nineteen ninety six, it was warm and I

0:19:16.560 --> 0:19:20.119
<v Speaker 1>was wearing a t shirt and jeans. The people on

0:19:20.160 --> 0:19:24.560
<v Speaker 1>the street seemed to be in the cold. Julie claims

0:19:24.880 --> 0:19:27.520
<v Speaker 1>she was then startled by the sound of an old

0:19:27.560 --> 0:19:31.639
<v Speaker 1>fashioned car with round side mirrors, honking its horn as

0:19:31.720 --> 0:19:37.080
<v Speaker 1>it hurtled towards her, despite the street being pedestrianized. She

0:19:37.160 --> 0:19:41.480
<v Speaker 1>went inside the shop where she'd eventually encountered Frank, where

0:19:41.520 --> 0:19:45.639
<v Speaker 1>a woman in nineteen forty style clothing was apparently manning

0:19:45.720 --> 0:19:50.199
<v Speaker 1>the till and shaking her head at her. Julie continued,

0:19:51.000 --> 0:19:55.520
<v Speaker 1>it had old fashioned mahogany display cabinets and everything was dark,

0:19:56.000 --> 0:20:00.520
<v Speaker 1>which is odd because shops are normally bright. Suddenly I

0:20:00.560 --> 0:20:03.639
<v Speaker 1>saw a bookcase with Dylan's written on it, and a

0:20:03.720 --> 0:20:07.200
<v Speaker 1>man grabbed my arm and I was back in nineteen

0:20:07.280 --> 0:20:13.240
<v Speaker 1>ninety six. Like Frank and Sean, Julie believed she experienced

0:20:13.240 --> 0:20:17.159
<v Speaker 1>a time slip on that day, finding herself transported to

0:20:17.240 --> 0:20:21.199
<v Speaker 1>a different time or place, despite having no memory of

0:20:21.320 --> 0:20:25.199
<v Speaker 1>ever having moved from where she stood. She went on

0:20:25.320 --> 0:20:29.240
<v Speaker 1>to explain to the UK's The Sun newspaper that nine

0:20:29.280 --> 0:20:32.680
<v Speaker 1>months later, when she was working for a TV program

0:20:32.880 --> 0:20:37.840
<v Speaker 1>that was filmed at Liverpool's famous Albert Docks, she experienced

0:20:37.920 --> 0:20:43.520
<v Speaker 1>something terrifyingly similar. This time, she was making her way

0:20:43.560 --> 0:20:46.600
<v Speaker 1>to a local bank on North john Street on her

0:20:46.680 --> 0:20:51.040
<v Speaker 1>lunch break when she found herself entering an adjacent shop

0:20:51.200 --> 0:20:56.080
<v Speaker 1>filled with baby clothes and maternity aids. When, as she said,

0:20:56.359 --> 0:21:00.119
<v Speaker 1>she grabbed a small gray cardigan, she looked up to

0:21:00.200 --> 0:21:03.960
<v Speaker 1>see a sign saying the price was two D, an

0:21:04.000 --> 0:21:08.240
<v Speaker 1>abbreviation for the British pence that hasn't been used since

0:21:08.359 --> 0:21:13.000
<v Speaker 1>nineteen seventy one, and when she looked up, everyone around

0:21:13.040 --> 0:21:17.000
<v Speaker 1>her appeared to be dressed in clothes from the nineteen sixties.

0:21:17.960 --> 0:21:21.879
<v Speaker 1>On this occasion, she said, the experience was much quicker

0:21:21.920 --> 0:21:25.640
<v Speaker 1>than what she encountered on Bold Street, with things returning

0:21:25.680 --> 0:21:35.879
<v Speaker 1>to normal as soon as she left the shop. Things

0:21:35.880 --> 0:21:38.840
<v Speaker 1>would apparently come to a head for Julie a few

0:21:38.920 --> 0:21:43.640
<v Speaker 1>years later, when, according to her, she experienced yet another

0:21:43.840 --> 0:21:48.000
<v Speaker 1>brief time slip, this time on a train near Waverley

0:21:48.080 --> 0:21:53.919
<v Speaker 1>Station in Edinburgh, Scotland. As the train slowed down coming

0:21:53.960 --> 0:21:58.399
<v Speaker 1>into the station, Julie prepared to disembark, but when she

0:21:58.480 --> 0:22:01.800
<v Speaker 1>approached the door to the carrier, which once again she

0:22:01.880 --> 0:22:07.920
<v Speaker 1>apparently became faintly aware that things looked different suddenly, where

0:22:07.960 --> 0:22:12.400
<v Speaker 1>the carriage had previously been packed full of commuters, Julie

0:22:12.480 --> 0:22:16.000
<v Speaker 1>saw only two or three others sitting in the seats.

0:22:16.880 --> 0:22:22.040
<v Speaker 1>The carriage apparently seemed older too. However, the greatest shock

0:22:22.400 --> 0:22:26.280
<v Speaker 1>was when she supposedly looked out into the station, only

0:22:26.320 --> 0:22:29.600
<v Speaker 1>to find that everyone was dressed in clothes from the

0:22:29.640 --> 0:22:35.280
<v Speaker 1>early nineteen hundreds. Julie claimed the events had caused such

0:22:35.359 --> 0:22:39.760
<v Speaker 1>mental distress that she sought help from Liverpool's self described

0:22:39.840 --> 0:22:45.679
<v Speaker 1>medium and psychic, Derek Acorra. A Coorra supposedly performed a

0:22:45.800 --> 0:22:49.159
<v Speaker 1>ritual to try and close off, as he called it,

0:22:49.640 --> 0:22:54.359
<v Speaker 1>what he described as Julie's third eye, which he said

0:22:55.000 --> 0:22:59.920
<v Speaker 1>was sensitive to paranormal phenomena. It was this, he claimed,

0:23:00.240 --> 0:23:04.159
<v Speaker 1>that was causing the strange time slips she was experiencing.

0:23:05.240 --> 0:23:08.760
<v Speaker 1>She was told to imagine a purple cloak covering her

0:23:08.840 --> 0:23:13.320
<v Speaker 1>from top to bottom, an imaginative device which a Corus

0:23:13.359 --> 0:23:18.000
<v Speaker 1>said offered security and protection from what he termed the

0:23:18.080 --> 0:23:22.399
<v Speaker 1>other side. Though Julie says she felt safe for a

0:23:22.440 --> 0:23:26.600
<v Speaker 1>short time afterwards, she claimed that other little slips have

0:23:26.680 --> 0:23:31.000
<v Speaker 1>occurred since, and that she has effectively resigned herself to

0:23:31.080 --> 0:23:36.520
<v Speaker 1>being under their influence. One thing that Julie posited about

0:23:36.560 --> 0:23:40.720
<v Speaker 1>her own apparent time slips is the possible connection between

0:23:40.920 --> 0:23:44.240
<v Speaker 1>always being in a hurry of being in transit during

0:23:44.280 --> 0:23:47.560
<v Speaker 1>those times, and that there may be a connection with

0:23:47.800 --> 0:23:53.800
<v Speaker 1>train systems in particular. Though this might seem tenuous, researchers

0:23:53.800 --> 0:23:58.119
<v Speaker 1>and skeptics have long speculated about the presence of infra

0:23:58.520 --> 0:24:05.200
<v Speaker 1>or ultrasound sites of supposed paranormal activity, specifically with regards

0:24:05.240 --> 0:24:17.760
<v Speaker 1>to low frequency sounds that have the ability to trigger hallucinations.

0:24:17.840 --> 0:24:21.800
<v Speaker 1>Like any other major city in the UK, Liverpool has

0:24:21.840 --> 0:24:25.679
<v Speaker 1>a long and sometimes troubled history which seems to have

0:24:25.720 --> 0:24:29.080
<v Speaker 1>seeped into the fabric of its paving, stones and walls.

0:24:30.400 --> 0:24:33.480
<v Speaker 1>From its involvement as a major port of the British

0:24:33.520 --> 0:24:37.879
<v Speaker 1>slave trade to the thousands of starving migrants who arrived

0:24:37.920 --> 0:24:41.320
<v Speaker 1>in the city during the nineteenth century while fleeing from

0:24:41.320 --> 0:24:44.600
<v Speaker 1>the Great Famine in Ireland, there is certainly a case

0:24:44.640 --> 0:24:48.760
<v Speaker 1>to be made that the city lends itself to dark imaginings.

0:24:49.920 --> 0:24:53.240
<v Speaker 1>There is still the question, of course, about the accuracy

0:24:53.359 --> 0:24:58.480
<v Speaker 1>of the details recounted in each witness's story, the consistency

0:24:58.520 --> 0:25:01.720
<v Speaker 1>of their accounts, and the apparent lack of gain to

0:25:01.760 --> 0:25:06.679
<v Speaker 1>be had in making such unusual and outlandish claims as theirs,

0:25:07.960 --> 0:25:11.520
<v Speaker 1>Julie was told by Derek Acorra that she had one

0:25:11.560 --> 0:25:16.280
<v Speaker 1>foot in this dimension and one foot in another. Funnily enough,

0:25:16.680 --> 0:25:21.160
<v Speaker 1>this is a concept often repeated throughout folklore going back

0:25:21.240 --> 0:25:26.880
<v Speaker 1>to ancient times. In Irish mythology, the notion of thin

0:25:27.080 --> 0:25:30.439
<v Speaker 1>places is said to account for areas of the land

0:25:30.720 --> 0:25:34.359
<v Speaker 1>where the veil between reality and the mythical other world

0:25:34.800 --> 0:25:40.040
<v Speaker 1>is supposedly at its most porous. The ancient Celts believed

0:25:40.240 --> 0:25:44.719
<v Speaker 1>that the distance between Heaven and Earth was just three feet,

0:25:45.640 --> 0:25:49.720
<v Speaker 1>while some Native American tribes are known to ascribe such

0:25:49.840 --> 0:25:55.040
<v Speaker 1>profound mystical significance to sights of baled reality that they

0:25:55.119 --> 0:26:00.040
<v Speaker 1>tend to avoid them completely. Danny Robbins, who hosts The

0:26:00.119 --> 0:26:04.119
<v Speaker 1>Uncanny series in which Duly featured, has said that the

0:26:04.200 --> 0:26:08.119
<v Speaker 1>experiencing of an apparent time slip is not as uncommon

0:26:08.160 --> 0:26:12.040
<v Speaker 1>as it might first appear, and that since broadcasting the

0:26:12.119 --> 0:26:18.080
<v Speaker 1>episode in question, he's received dozens more testimonies with eerie similarities.

0:26:19.680 --> 0:26:23.760
<v Speaker 1>One individual described walking out of a record store in

0:26:23.800 --> 0:26:28.600
<v Speaker 1>London's Oxford Street in the nineteen nineties, only to apparently

0:26:28.680 --> 0:26:35.240
<v Speaker 1>find themselves suddenly transported back to Victorian times. All strawn

0:26:35.359 --> 0:26:39.400
<v Speaker 1>carriages trundled down the Cobble Street as it had once been,

0:26:40.200 --> 0:26:44.440
<v Speaker 1>and they even claimed sadly for them to have experienced

0:26:44.560 --> 0:26:50.560
<v Speaker 1>the smells of Victorian London. Whatever your belief, what is

0:26:50.640 --> 0:26:54.159
<v Speaker 1>clear is that the past will always haunt us in

0:26:54.280 --> 0:27:00.640
<v Speaker 1>some way, whether through memory, celluloid feelings of regret and longing,

0:27:01.200 --> 0:27:05.160
<v Speaker 1>or more literal forays into some forgotten corner of history.

0:27:05.880 --> 0:27:10.840
<v Speaker 1>One thing is for sure, the past is never dead.

0:27:10.880 --> 0:27:15.600
<v Speaker 1>To quote the great American author William Faulkner, it's not

0:27:15.760 --> 0:27:27.520
<v Speaker 1>even past. This episode was written by James Connor Patterson

0:27:27.800 --> 0:27:32.320
<v Speaker 1>and Richard McLain Smith. James is a brilliant writer and poet.

0:27:32.800 --> 0:27:37.040
<v Speaker 1>His debut collection of poems, titled Bandit Country, exploring the

0:27:37.160 --> 0:27:41.199
<v Speaker 1>hinterland between the North of Ireland and Republic, was shortlisted

0:27:41.240 --> 0:27:44.080
<v Speaker 1>for the twenty twenty two T. S. Eliot Prize and

0:27:44.200 --> 0:27:47.920
<v Speaker 1>is out now to buy. Do check it out. Thank

0:27:47.960 --> 0:27:50.879
<v Speaker 1>you as ever for listening to the show. Please subscribe

0:27:50.880 --> 0:27:54.480
<v Speaker 1>and rate it if you haven't already done so. Unexplained

0:27:54.520 --> 0:27:57.600
<v Speaker 1>will be coming to YouTube very shortly in video form,

0:27:57.760 --> 0:28:00.920
<v Speaker 1>so please watch out for future developments there. You can

0:28:00.920 --> 0:28:04.120
<v Speaker 1>subscribe to the channel at YouTube dot com, Forward Slash

0:28:04.320 --> 0:28:07.399
<v Speaker 1>at Unexplained Pod. You can also now find us on

0:28:07.480 --> 0:28:11.480
<v Speaker 1>TikTok at TikTok dot com. Forward Slash at Unexplained Podcast.

0:28:13.240 --> 0:28:17.520
<v Speaker 1>Unexplained is an Avy Club Productions podcast created by Richard

0:28:17.560 --> 0:28:21.679
<v Speaker 1>McClain Smith. All other elements of the podcast, including the music,

0:28:22.119 --> 0:28:26.960
<v Speaker 1>are also produced by me Richard mccleinsmith. Unexplained. The book

0:28:26.960 --> 0:28:30.960
<v Speaker 1>and audiobook is now available to buy worldwide. You can

0:28:30.960 --> 0:28:35.560
<v Speaker 1>purchase from Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Waterstones and other bookstores.

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0:28:42.160 --> 0:28:45.560
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0:28:45.600 --> 0:28:48.320
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0:28:48.400 --> 0:28:51.080
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