It's true that there are actually only two times -- "enough time" and "too late."  When clocks are adjusted for daylight savings, "too late" springs forward.  From Boston College's 1983 yearbook.

"Why did he go to this door one hour before dawn?  Was he asleep or awake?  Was he his own master or under another's will?"  These are questions we ask ourselves every morning.  From Moving Picture World, 1920.

It is simultaneously midnight and 2:10 at this clock tower in Lima, Ohio, documented by Tom Ramsey at 10:58.  Though we weren't on location to discover the exact cause of the timely weirdness, we spotlight this photo to help hone the insights of would-be investigators of temporal anomalies.  The more clocks one sees that are "on the fritz" (Fritz being the German clockmaker who first went "cuckoo"), the better attuned one will be to time warps in the wild.

From A Thousand and One Afternoons in Chicago by Ben Hecht and illustrated by Herman Rosse, 1922.

We belatedly discovered an artist's statement for our haunted grandfather clock in which the clock face has been pulled to the back of the cabinet:

"To make any real sense of our place in the cosmos and, more importantly still, to change that place, we must be open to genuine transcendence and the abolition of time through its conversion into space" (Jeffrey J. Kripal, footnote to Philip K. Dick's Exegesis).

See our video about the clock and its uncanny hauntedness, here.

Every clock in Boca Raton, Florida, reflects a temporal anomaly.  We found nine clock faces in the city, no single one of which showed the correct time.  Four clocks on one tower agreed with each other, though they were all fifteen minutes off.  The other clocks we spotted were in disagreement with one another as well as being incorrect.  "To learn what’s going on in Boca Raton takes time" (Jason Pelish, Boca Raton News), and therein lies the irony.

We restored a grandfather clock that possesses a ghostly feature.  Thanks to Grumpy Andrew, of Grumpy Andrew's House of Horror, who said, "Wonderful! Oh that was a balm for my soul."  Meanwhile, to whatever pathetic soul thumbed-down our video, we'd ask to see what grand illusion you built from scratch this week, but —oh, that's right! — you didn't.  But you made us feel even more fabulous, so — lest we disappoint you — the thumbs-down didn't discourage at all but rather set us apart from you!  Thanks for social-distancing!  We feel safer now.

It's simultaneously 5:35 and 10:50 in this temporal anomaly in Daytona Beach, Florida, documented by Paulbr75.  Though we weren't on location to discover the exact cause of this timely weirdness, we offer this photo to help hone the insights of would-be investigators of temporal anomalies.  The more clocks one sees that are "on the fritz" (Fritz being the German clockmaker who first went "cuckoo"), the better attuned one will be to time warps in the wild.

Times takes a shellacking.  From Barnard's 1955 yearbook.

Photographed at 4:22, the clock faces display 6:16 and 8:15.  Brian Rawson-Ketchum noticed and documented this temporal anomaly in Battle Creek, Michigan.  Though we weren't on location to discover the exact cause of the timely weirdness, we offer this photo to help hone the insights of would-be investigators of temporal anomalies.  The more clocks one sees that are "on the fritz" (Fritz being the German clockmaker who first went "cuckoo"), the better attuned one will be to time warps in the wild.

If you think you're tired, here's what it took folks in 1905 to get out of bed.  From L'Impartial de l'Est, 1905.

Can this clock face be accurate?  Yes!  There's literary proof: "September Midnight" (Sara Teasdale, Poetry magazine, 1914) as well as September 12th (2002).  A novel entitled One October (Steve Stratton, 2011).  A book of Haiku entitled November 2.  And so on: December Third, January 4th, February 5th ... you get the idea with that.

From The Film Daily, 1946.

We encountered and determined the cause of a temporal anomaly in the city of Colorado Springs, Colorado.  The clock in the bedroom of our historic farmhouse lodging displays a frozen time.  As constant investigators of such phenomena, we saw the source of the problem instantly.  Placed right next to the clock is an empty antique birdcage.  That relic is the cause of the clock's inoperability.  An empty cage traditionally symbolizes that something in one's life has escaped; we've all heard that "time flies," and so QED.  Though the cause is simple enough, great mysteries yet abound, for has an old clock in a nearby farmhouse now gained time?  By the way, that slip of paper in the corner of our photo is from a fortune cookie that a stranger gifted me after the Ghost concert we attended (ticket and earplugs also pictured).  The fortune reads, "Do what is right, not what you should."  (And yes, apparently we do take and eat candy from strangers.)

A pocket watch that chimed the bells of a fairy city.  From What Time Is It? by M. Ilin and illustrated by N. Lapshin, 1932.