I’ve long known that I am the owner of a time machine. Some time in the future, my future self will come back to the past and hand it over. I suspect I’ll do this because I don’t trust many people other than myself, and what better way to deal with the most powerful, potent and influential machine in the history of time itself than hand it over to a slightly less smart version of yourself? How the time machine reaches me in the first place, I do not know, and perhaps I’ll never know. Perhaps I’m stuck in an infinite loop; a transgression in the laws of physics and an anomalous permutation in this cosmos that spawns time machines like Zubat in Dark Cave.
Many years ago I wrote what I’d do with a time machine, and that list has expanded since then as I’ve learned about more things to exploit, though most of them still hold true. There are a great number of interesting cosmological and geological events that will be interesting to behold. Little cherries to pick off an apple tree – after all, no one else would get to do this.
Four billion years from now I’ll be here on Earth looking up into the distance to behold the white sky at night. With all life on this rock wiped out like dead moss on a winter’s day, Earth will be like Venus is today. The sun will have progressed into a large flaming ball, much brighter and more aggressive than it is today. It’ll almost be like a seasoned athlete at the end of his career playing with startling form before getting burned out by the harshness and limitless continuity of the universe, with a bright orange glow that embraces tiny spinning rocks with enough heat to melt its cores. The sky, however, will perhaps be one of the prettiest things humans haven’t seen yet, with the Andromeda and Milky Way galaxies having collided with each other. The night sky dances with billions of dazzling bright stars befitting the barren, desolate craters left on Earth after all souvenirs of life have been dead.
In 20,873 AD I can spend New Year’s eve with my incredibly marginally descended progeny, if I have any, and witness the following year sharing the same number in the Gregorian and Lunar Islamic calendars. If anyone remembers those several thousand years from now, that is. Or I can travel to 292,277,026,596 AD and watch my early 2010 iPad stop working as the Unix Time stamp will exceed the largest value that can be held in a 64 bit integer.
So much travelling through time and witnessing the marvels and limitations of what life has to offer us would leave anyone pondering if it’s really worth it; if life has a purpose. Of course it has a purpose, and even if I’m not correct today, seeing many events in the future along with unlimited wealth with the compound interest hack and immortality might help me in the endeavor to find life’s true purpose beyond ‘42’. If I get depressed, I can always travel to a hundred thousand years from now and witness the hypernova explosion of VY Canis Majoris in my last few glorious seconds.
It’s been almost seven years since I started this blog, and ten thousand views later it feels like I have taken a time machine into the future. Those who’ve been around long enough to see this blog evolve have known me well enough to tell you that it’s been a short-long journey of which I’ve enjoyed every bit of.
But more than bending the laws of economics or physics, I’d love to do the more simple things with the time machine. Move a cup from where you left it two metres to the side, just out of reach, to freak you out. Perhaps get drunk and not suffer a hangover. Add extra time for me to sleep after thirty hours of having none. Perhaps take someone else with me, or give the time machine to them for a bit before I go and retrieve it. How will I retrieve it, though? Wait it out? No, I’ll just give it to myself. Although I’m still waiting for that first encounter.