My Thoughts On Time Travel
Because even logic needs a day off sometimes
BEN POGGEMILLER/
This summer I worked for a property management company, performing various dirty jobs and generally being bossed around for four months. They treated me well and mainly left me alone to do my job, so there were extended periods of solitude in which a good bossing around would have been the highlight of my day. One of my tasks was to apply a piece of grip tape to every stair in a 17- story office building, and needless to say, I got some thinking done.
One theme that frequently crossed my mind was to dream up ways to avoid becoming a productive member of society for as long as possible. I skipped past the obvious ones like working for the government, becoming a fashion consultant, and becoming a government-subsidized fashion consultant and went right for the throat: time travel. What could be better than meandering through the past, exploring the infinite possibilities of time? I feel I have come up with a near perfect plan for achieving time travel. You can use it if you like, but the movie rights are mine. All you have to do to travel through time is simply pass the buck.
In my will, I will stipulate that the following message be passed down through the generations of my family:
“Hi there! I’m your father/grandfather/ great-uncle/ general relative Ben. I’m dead now, but you can meet me if you like. All you have to do is pass on this message through your family until time travel is perfected. When I say perfected, I mean that it’s possible, safe, and there’s no chance of me becoming my own grandfather, which would just be confusing to all parties involved. In short, I don’t want to be able to affect history. Once this has been achieved, you need to come back and get me when I’m 18 years old and take me whenever I want to go. The way I see it, you’ll have to comply, because you’re my descendants, and I can prevent you from existing altogether if you’d prefer that. I apologize, I’m not usually this abrasive, but this mission is imperative. See you soon!”
It’s as simple as that. I’m confident that my descendants will be just demented enough to take a message like this seriously. I even anticipate this idea will snowball, and branches further down my family tree will jump on this chronological bandwagon until we have a pan-generational family gathering on our hands. While most people would use an opportunity like this to solve the mysteries of the past and otherwise further humanity, I would find out where the irritating phrase “pardon my French,” originated, and whether or not basketball great, Julius “Dr. J” Irving was really a doctor. I also happen to be a music lover, and since many of my favourite artists are, in a word, dead, this would be an excellent opportunity to see some awesome concerts.
I bet you’re wondering, “If you don’t want time to be affected, how can your descendants come back to get you without doing that?” There are two possibilities I have considered, smarty-pants, a.k.a. philosophy major. One is that in order to ensure the safety of time travel, my descendants will have to wipe my memory so I have no recollection of the event. The other is that I can simply give logic the day off. I’m sure even logic gets sick of being right all the time, so I’m hoping it’ll look the other way while I have a paradoxically good time. Yes, the wheels are in motion. Now all I have to do is have kids.
