As far as I can tell, there are three types of time traveling that really bear talking about. First, there’s the regular old time traveling, as in: I’m currently traveling into the future at a rate of one second per second. Not terribly exciting, but it’s time travel. It’s like if you’re flying to LA and you have a 2 hour layover in the Kansas City airport. Not the dry rub ribs and burnt ends, hookers under the viaduct, line dancing at the Beaumont, Royals and Chiefs extravaganza you’ve probably always dreamed of, but technically, yeah, you were in Kansas City. That’s the way this first time travel works. It’s the technicality of space time quantum excitement (to misuse several words and theories) or the through-the-pants-handjob…no. the wet dream. No. Okay, maybe this one time there is no appropriate semen analogy. I don’t know. Readers, I throw it to you. How is dull old “into the future at one second per second” time travel like jizz? You guys will come up with something. That’s what you do. Anyway, enough jib jab about jizz. I’ve got two more types of time travel to get to and I’ve got about ten minutes until I have to leave for work (stupid regular time travel).
Up next is the good old fashioned Doc Brown school of time travel, involving deloreans and specific dates and some sort of grid or matrix or futuristic abacus-type dealie that the time traveler uses to pinpoint the exact moment she’s headed to. (I know, women don’t time travel this way. Not sexist. FACT. I’m doing my part for gender politics [and undoubtedly weakening the scientific value of this essay, but whatever] by imposing the female pronoun here even though you expected the male pronoun. Take that hegemony!) This time travel usually involves going into the past and making some trivial change that has sweeping consequences. Then, you go back to your own time and HOLY SHIT!!!!! There’s a new reality! Lots of people also zip way into the future (like uh…was it the memento/Priscilla queen of the desert dude who went way into the future and had to fight the moorlocks? Probably. Sounds like something he’d do), and I understand the temptation. See what goes on after you die. That’s pretty exciting shit, man. Also, you can’t fuck up the present or the future future, because presumably, this time trip is already built into the future’s continuum, it being the future and all. You still following me McFly? Good. This shit moves pretty quick. Pseudo science is no laughing matter. Anyway, I think the future trip is dumb for one big reason. Confidence. In the past, you’d have so much confidence you could pretty much bang your way through whatever era you chose. I mean, go to Woodstock and look at some group of filthy mondo bushed hippy chicks and say “Ritchie havens is gonna be on first. He’s gonna do a ten minute jam about a motherless child” and see what happens. Clam city. I don’t even need a time machine to predict THAT future of the past, or whatever you want to call it. Go to 1776 and scoop paul revere. You’re a hero. Anywhen you go, you’ve got the edge, man. There’s nothing that says confidence like being from the future. That’s why Marty’s mom couldn’t keep her hands off him, despite how gross we all thought it was. Okay, you get the idea. Problem is, you don’t know what you’re gonna bang into existence back there. Could end up turning your happy little apartment into a smoldering crater in the middle of a future/present shit swamp, you know? No. That’s right. With time travel, you never know. That segues nicely into time travel method number three:
Massive drunkenness. This is a truly out there form of time travel. One minute you’re saying “I bet you any amount of money I can chug this Singapore sling in fifteen seconds!” to some forty five year old woman at a Rockville Center motel bar and the next second you’re on some living room floor a day later with no pants on and a family you’ve never seen before is above you trying to eat breakfast and get the kids out the door. You’re covered in bruises. You’ve got a car key that you’ve never seen before and one dollar. Your wallet is gone but a note on your hand, scrawled in your handwriting in Sharpie says “Don’t forgit the fukkin CHICKEN!” That’s time travel, for you. Discombobulating and disturbing. Thrust into a future you don’t understand left with no tools with which to deal with anything. All you can do is go find those regular people who just lived their lives traveling the first, boring form of time travel and get them to tell you what you skipped over. You can’t go into the past with this method, though it’s reported that during time travel, most time travelers spend a lot of time talking about the past like it was “way fucking awesome.” This is probably the second most dangerous form of time travel, but every single one of these will eventually kill you. No shit.
Okay, it’s late and I have to go. My kid had Halloween at school and he’s dressed as satan. It’s real cute. His best buddy was gonna be Yoda, but he didn’t like the hat or the jacket, so he opted out of the festivities. Regardless, nothing cuter than toddlers in costumes. Huh. Pretty lame end to a science fiction post, man. Even for me.
Okay, I think the dude that filmed my band’s show has a little preview set up that he’s gonna post on line today. It’s still unmixed sound, and we all look disgusting, so don’t worry about telling us, we know all about it. Anyway, I’ll post the link when I get it, should be today or tomorrow at the latest. Or just google the shit. Dude’s name is travis.
Okay, into the future I go.
Edit- here's the link: http://www.facebook.com/video/video.php?v=540215910908