I’m your density. I mean, your destiny. – George McFly, Back to the Future
Marty’s father wasn’t too far off in that slip (Freudian or otherwise, choose what you believe). He guessed correctly that he was in Marty’s mother’s, Lorraine’s, future. But also, that he was her density. For does not love, or the experience of long-term cohabitation and intimacy also include the consequence of being influenced by each other? George McFly may well say that he becomes Lorraine’s destiny and density by being her long-term husband and defining her, as much as she defines him. Density might seem a simple, scientific term, but it must be perfectly understandable to use it as another expression of being consumed by love.
Through a lot of meddling about with the time-space continuum, George does end up being both Lorraine’s density and destiny. While the former is a physical concept, the latter is purely ideational. There is no way of proving the validity of destiny unless you look at the past. In a sense, that is what History is. Not simply noting and trying to understand the events of the past, or even analysing what may have caused them. History, at its most delicious, is looking for clues, signs, symbols and codes, that offer quirkier and more fantastical causes to events than those simply supplied by mere logic. This is an aspect often missing from our day-to-day analysis of people and events. Whether you do it formally, as in the case of literature, Psychology or politics, or informally, as in the double-edged sword known as gossip, there is something we always leave out: the possibility, and in fact, the probability of imagination.
It may seem ridiculous to argue for the imaginary in logical terms. Each has its own place and we as humans have accepted it. If you want to believe that destiny and time-travel are true, head to the fantasy section. In non-fiction, which is what this blog has been all this time, stick to logic. You see, I actually don’t believe in destiny, despite my generally idealistic outlook. In fact, I think destiny has little to do with idealism at all. If you look at the history of destiny and how it has operated in human life, the results have rarely been good. I believe in time-travel and there being a universe full of life that is very different from ours. But, given a chance to travel in space and time, finding out about my own history or future, i.e. my timeline, or people I know would be the last thing I’d want to do.
More than wanting to know what happens, I passionately don’t want to know what happens to me. I have a million regrets, but I know that if I change even one of them, it will disrupt something, if not good, important in some way. You see, imagination and speculation are much more practical and necessary than knowing your or someone else’s destiny. Imagination helps us shape our ideal world as practically as possible, which motivates us to go after it. Speculation determines its practicability. If we were only aware of a sense of failure, or even success by knowing our destiny, there would be something that will make us uneasy, even lazy about it.
Though there are many, many love stories out there based on this, I don’t ever find it romantic. Why would I want to be inevitably attracted towards, and fated for, someone I don’t even know? The real romance, or magic, is in knowing, little by little. That is how you become each other’s density, which, as we have established, is far better than destiny. Though imagination is a necessary aspect of loving anyone, as we need our delusions without knowing them to be so, it aids in the increase of density if the destiny is unknown, for then you appreciate what you have right in front of you.