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Quantum physics demolishes the conventional concept of time in its own peculiar ways. Measured at short enough durations, space-time loses its apparently smooth, continuous structure, devolving into what Princeton physicist John Wheeler calls "quantum foam." The orderly flow of events may really be as much an illusion as the flickering frames of a movie. And according to independent physicist Barbour's new book, even the apparent sequence of the flickers is illusory...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: The Riddle of Time | 12/27/1999 | See Source »

...about the cover image. Photographer Greg Heisler and art director Arthur Hochstein came up with the idea of shooting our Person of the Year inside an Amazon shipping box, complete with plastic-foam chips. Not only was Bezos game but his cheerfulness never flagged even after he'd spent nearly an hour in cardboard. Bezos' gleeful reaction when he saw a Polaroid shot of the image that day: "This is really weird...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: That Man in the Cardboard Box | 12/27/1999 | See Source »

...design office, where Alicia and helpers make FM come to life. Our photographer, Matthew R. Cordell, finds the foam of the couch in here almost as tasty as beans...

Author: NO WRITER ATTRIBUTED | Title: Fifteen Minutes: The Annotated Crimson Newsroom | 12/16/1999 | See Source »

...know exactly when I lost my mind. June 1996, just south of the border in a pueblocita they call Cancún. The agent of my transformation: a stylish devil named Tequila. My senior trip was about foam parties and shady beds, not yards of beer and wet T-shirt contests. In the end I looked more like a "popcorn crab" (the words of a best friend) than Serena Atschul. Does it matter? Maybe...

Author: By Kevin E. Meyers, | Title: Fifteen Minutes: Confessions of an Autumnophile | 10/14/1999 | See Source »

...week before graduation, three high school friends and I journeyed down to Mexico for our first real yeehaw before we rode off into the sunset. Mostly fragments of the trip have stuck with me: the chorus of a song "you've got to lick it," the suffocating stench of foam, the cool slip and slide of my new black pants and a search mission one morning for my best friend. There were jet skis and tan lines...

Author: By Kevin E. Meyers, | Title: Fifteen Minutes: Confessions of an Autumnophile | 10/14/1999 | See Source »

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