Fiction: My mail order time machine, fourth part

  My mail order time machine

Fourth

Turns out temporal shielding will not work unless I get Wil Wheaton to reverse the polarity of the chronometric flux amplifiers and he’s not answering my calls. Understandable since if he showed up I’d only make fun of his jumpers. So anyway I had a brilliant idea. I went to future and stole the long haired future me’s time travel machine. I thought he looked younger, so in one strike I’d deprive both of them from the technology they were using to harass me. Got back, and so I had two time machines. A few minutes later future me sent a note through time saying it was a brilliant idea (yeah, I knew that) and thanking me for the backup device. Fantastic.

The next morning, I woke up with a headache. I figured it was probably caused by too much screen time. Could also be the beer, the wine or perhaps even the whiskey, but it's most probably the screen time. Just spending too much time in front of the computer. I should try to cut down on that a bit, I thought to myself as I wrestled my body out of the bed. I’d read somewhere that the blue light of the monitor screen, especially late at night, really is not good for the eyes, and what is not good for the eyes is probably not good for anything connected to the eyes. At least that’s what I’d think. And the brain, where the headache happens, is quite directly connected to the eyes. That might be a slight simplification, but sometimes I don't care as much about total accuracy as some other times. I walked to the bathroom and stood in front of the sink. I took a good look at myself in the mirror. I wasn’t sure if I liked what I saw or not. With a shrug and a sigh, I opened the cabinet and looked inside. I wasn’t sure what I was looking for, maybe painkillers, but I did not keep them in this cabinet, so unsurprisingly I did not find any. I closed the cabinet again and spent another couple of seconds staring at myself in the mirror. Still not sure about what I saw. I stepped into the shower to get ready for the day. After I was done washing myself, I wrapped a towel around my midsection and opened the bathroom door. I peeked around the corner first towards my bedroom and then towards the living room. “Anyone here?” I called out and waited for a reply. There was no answer. Amazingly, it appeared that I was alone. There were no visitors. I had not come to any kind of a conclusion on my research for temporal shielding last night, but maybe a not-so-distant future version of me has cracked it and has extended the protection to cover my present time. I guess that could mean I don't need to worry about it, since it will happen. One could also say that I must keep researching the topic, so that future me will eventually figure out. Let us say that usually time paradoxes involve someone going into the past and changing something that affects their current time, often for example taking away the reason why they would have ended up traveling into the past in the first place. Could I create a time paradox by not doing something in my present time that is required for an already established future situation to exist? It is an interesting thought. To try to answer that question, I feel I first must pose myself another question. Can future be established? I would say yes. I would further stipulate that at any given moment there must be an established future. However, that future, while set, is not unchangeable. Is that already a paradox of some kind? The way I look at it, since I can travel to the future, there must be an established future. It would be based on how things would proceed if allowed to do so without any interference. So, when something happens that changes how things would proceed, that changes the established future. One could say that as soon as I travel to the future, the version of the future that existed in the very moment when I made the jump forward in time no longer exists. But which future am I in then? The future at that point would be changing, based on what the impact of my experience in the future has to me, which effects how I behave and what I do when I return to my own time. And then there is the traditional causes for time paradoxes, the visits from future to past. A visitor from the future can affect the past in such a way that the future they came from doesn't exist anymore. Where do they return to? Is it possible that I could change something in the past that would change where I live, now, in my present time? I suppose if I would blow up the building, I wouldn't be able to have bought my apartment. And what about me and my presence through the timeline? If I were to die now, today, all my future selves would cease to exist. But they have already travelled back and forth in time, so they not only exist in various points in the future, but also in the past. There may be records of those visits, they may have interacted with other people, they may have moved something, created something, or influenced someone's actions. So, if I die, and they are erased from existence, the effect goes around from my present time to future, back to past and through to the present time, creating not only a new future but before that also a new past. This was too much complicated thinking for so early in the morning. I rubbed my temples and tried to reset my thoughts. I should tackle this topic when I'm feeling a bit better and start writing these thoughts down. And then there's my research on the temporal shielding, but I will have to get back to that later too. Right now, I need to get some of that gaming done, since I don’t know if I’ll be able to do much of it in the future. Based on my observation of the behaviour of my future selves I suspected that for some reason, there would be less than desired amount of time available in my future for wasting on playing computer games. So, I settled down to do some racing in my play seat. I had bought it a couple years ago, complete with a steering wheel, pedals and a gearshift, and it had really transformed racing games for me. My next step would be to get multi-monitor setup, or maybe one of those super-wide curved screens, and then maybe motorized base for the seat to tilt in all directions for a more realistic gameplay, but for now I was quite content with what I had. And I was doing rather well today, setting new records and getting more podium finishes, but something else was gnawing at the back of my mind. My plans for world domination. I was honestly not at all sure what I was planning to do. I should have asked the future versions of me to explain it to me so that I could get a head start on starting to figure out how to proceed. Though did I really want to go through with the plans? I wasn’t quite sure about that either. But to figure that one out, it would probably help to know what I was planning or was going to be planning in the first place. Right? Right, I thought to myself. I wasn’t quite as sure about this as I was pretending to be, but nonetheless I decided that I need to work out my plans. Making a firm commitment to something you are not necessarily one hundred percent sure about always helps to take away the lingering doubts. At least that is what I just decided to tell myself too. I switched the game console off and moved to sit down in front of my computer. I made a mental note to cut down on the screen time later. I hit the space bar to wake the computer up and stretched my arms while waiting for it to become usable. After some time and a half of crunching and whirring sounds, the screen came to life again. There were all the browser tabs on time travel and temporal shielding. I quickly glanced over the information. Sometimes taking a break from something will allow one to have a fresh perspective and see possibilities and connections that were eluding one’s eyes before. That was not the case this time. At least not right away. I really must get back to that research later, I thought, but for now I just couldn’t make any progress on trying to come up with any kind of workable hypothesis for shielding my immediate physical and temporal surroundings from time travel. I’ll have a breakthrough at some point. So, moving on to my world domination plans then. What on earth could I be planning? I did not even know where to start. I couldn't remember ever wanting to dominate the world. I guess for some it could be a childhood dream. If I had ever had a dream like that, I'd forgotten about it. My dreams were generally less ambitious, and I hadn't done a very good job defining and following them so far. Trying to come up with the plans for world domination now seemed like a lot. Maybe I could try to find some kind of a cheat sheet. “World domination for dummies” I typed into a search engine. Lots of hits, I thought to myself looking at the results of the search and started going through them. Most were recommending starting small and expanding when one gains more power and resources. That sounded like good advice, but also something I might have been able to come up with myself. Some made references to examples of people who had dabbled in world domination, these were generally charismatic leaders with a knack for persuasion and rousing speeches. If I were to start giving speeches with the aim to convince people to follow me, I would probably only manage to persuade the masses to ignore me. In fact, that would likely be the best-case scenario, a more likely one being locked up as a potentially dangerous lunatic, if not being euthanised for my own good. There are of course courses for learning to speak to an audience, to become more influential in one’s communication and so on, but I doubt that would work to the level of being able to instigate people to partake in a revolution. If that was even what my plan would ask for. I did make a note to further investigate ways to improve my charisma and persuasion skills. But I was still no closer to having any idea on what I would want to do. The instructions and guides were addressing the how, and I needed to figure out the what. I just could not think of anything, but obviously I will make the plans since my future selves have talked about them. I looked at the time machine on my bookshelf. I guess I could go and take a quick look at the plans. It couldn’t hurt. My future selves must have some notes on the plans somewhere. Maybe even some kind of a command centre with screens and boards. Probably not, though. That kind of stuff happens only in movies and tv shows. Would be cool, though. But probably not likely. I took the machine and turned it on. Only I did not quite know to where and when I should go. Then I remembered that the long-haired one had said he was from ten years in my future. So, I guess that’d be as good a try as any. I set my mind to travel ten years into the future, in front of my apartment building, and pressed the button. I should probably put shoes on, I thought to myself in that very moment, but it was too late. So, I was traveling barefoot. At least it should not be snowing. But it was raining, hard. I dashed, awkwardly trying to avoid my feet touching the wetness of the ground, over to the front door and realised I also should have brought my keys. I concentrated on the thought of going home, and in a flash, I was back in my own time and in my living room again. I picked up my keys from the kitchen counter and put my shoes on. Then I returned to the future. The rain had stopped but the ground was still a bit wet, glistening with the full sun from what seemed like fully blue sky. I walked over to the front door and tried my key. It worked. I stepped inside and checked my mailbox. It was empty. That must mean that either I had already taken the mail, or there had been none today. I am a regular Sherlock Holmes. There was no way to know if I was home though. I walked through the hall and opened the door at the other end, peering into the little courtyard. A few meters across the courtyard there was a door leading to the garage, and next to that the door to the staircase to go up. And down to the storage rooms but I was planning on going up. On the right there was the entrance to access the ground floor apartments. It was pouring rain again. I walked over to the door to the stairwell, only getting slightly wet as I did so. I opened the door and stepped inside, letting the door close behind me but stopped it just in time before it made an audible bang against the frame. Then I ascended the stairs to the top floor. There was a door to leave the staircase, and I opened it carefully. There was a suspended walkway with a door at the end, leading back to the main building where my apartment was. The door was currently closed. On the right side of the walkway, was my bedroom balcony. One could just hop over the railing from the walkway to my balcony. I had never done it. I didn't do it now either. I looked at my windows though. The curtains were closed, so I could not see inside. I walked over to the door to the inner hallway and opened it, stepping inside. I held the door open behind me just in case I would need to make a quick exit. My apartment door was at the far corner on the right. I looked around. It was quiet as usual, and there was no sign of anyone else. This was normal, of course. In the time I had lived in my apartment, which was close to 5 years now, I had never seen any of my neighbours in the hallway. By 'never’, I mean almost never, or very rarely. I closed the door behind me and walked over to my apartment. As I got to my door I stopped in front of it, looking up and down with the keys in my hand. There was just no way of knowing if I was inside the apartment or not. I shrugged and put the key in the lock and turned it. It unlocked the door. Either I had not unlocked the door yet today, or I wasn’t at home. I turned the key further, until I was able to push the door open. It occurred to me in this moment that I could have pressed the doorbell downstairs. It is possible, even likely, that I would have answered, if I was inside. But I did not want to go back downstairs. Not now, I was already here, and had already opened the door. Carefully I peered inside, listening for any sounds from the apartment. There were none. It was quiet. I stepped in and closed the door behind me. It looked like I was still living at the same apartment ten years later. Or was I? I had used my key to get in, but it could just be that the locks had not been changed, which would not even be that unusual. I looked around. The place looked mostly familiar, but some work and improvements had been done here and there. The floor had been redone. The door to the living room with the open kitchen had been permanently removed and the whole doorway made a bit bigger by knocking out the narrow glass wall that had stood next to the door. There was a new set of a sofa and a coffee table, and a new TV. I didn’t see any game consoles, so that might explain why the future versions of me were so keen to play on mine. I reminded myself again to game more, while I still can. The kitchen had also been completely redone with a new stove and overhead extractor. The fridge was standing free instead of hiding behind a cupboard door and there was a little breakfast bar with a couple of stools. The question was, was this still my place? I walked out of the living room and to the bedroom door. The door was ajar. I pushed it carefully and peeked inside. The first thing I saw was that there was a baby bed. And next to that a double bed. Both were luckily empty. But there was a bed for a baby, which implies there is a baby. The future version of me hadn’t mentioned becoming a medical miracle, so one assumes there is a mother for the baby. Was he married? Or was he living in sin with some poor hapless girl? How the heck has he managed to get a girl looking like he does. Looking like me. Being like he is. Like me. An important question, but I was obviously assuming that my future self was living here. Was he? I looked around for a computer but didn’t see any in the bedroom. I never used to have my computer in the bedroom either. I walked back to the living room and at first didn't see anything but then I noticed a laptop on the book shelf. Right next to the time machine. I looked at the laptop and then at the time machine. It looked like my time machine. I guess if there was any doubt, that was confirmation that I did still live here. Unless I had left it behind for the next person living in the apartment. I thought that would be a quite unlikely scenario. I wondered if my future self was out traveling in time, or just out in a more conventional way. It dawned on me that he could appear out of thin air any moment without any warning. Or hardly enough warning to do anything about it. Though I supposed if he were to step in through the front door it would not be so different. I would still be caught in the middle of his apartment with nowhere to go or to hide. If it came to that, I'd just have to wish to return to my own time, and hope that it worked quickly enough. But whatever I wanted to do here and now, I had better try to be quick about it. I took the laptop and opened it. It woke up at once. As I was looking at it, it unlocked automatically. I guessed it recognized my face. I wondered if this was the first time in history that breaking into someone’s laptop turned out to be so easy. If time travel would become more common, people would definitely have to rethink their use of facial recognition and other biometric security features. I checked for any active programs or open windows. There were none. My current self (that is, I) leaves everything on when he put his laptop to sleep, but evidence suggested that was one habit my future self might have dropped at some point. I clicked on my computer. The icon, that is, using the touchpad. Then I double-clicked, and the file browser window opened on the screen. I opened my documents, and quickly looked over what I could find. There were a couple thousand documents, many named book1, book2, another book1, document1, doument2, etc. I sighed. Some habits seem harder to drop. It did not seem that I would be able to find anything very quickly. I tried searching for things like world domination, evil plans, and other similar terms. The searches returned nothing. I shook my head in frustration. Nothing. And yet I was sure what I was looking for was on this laptop, if only I had time to go through everything. But I felt time was something I didn’t have right now. My future self would surely appear any moment. I looked at the time machine. It didn’t seem like it was on. When I used my machine, I had to press the button when I was deciding when and where I wanted to go, and when I pressed the button, the light would go on. The light on this machine was not on. I picked it up and looked at it, thinking. According to my understanding of how the machine works, the future me was not traveling in time right at this moment. Which meant that he was not using this machine right at this moment. Which meant that there was no risk of him being stranded in time if he suddenly did not have his time machine. Wait, was that actually a real risk? I stopped myself to concentrate on that last thought. I might want to store my own device a bit more securely, especially when I was using it. I did not want to find myself stuck in some other time just because someone might break into my apartment and steal my time machine. Of course, I did not even know what the impact would be if someone would take it somewhere else. Would my point of return be where the machine is? Or would I still return to where I had left from? Would the distance the machine was moved make any difference? And what if the machine is moved to a different time? Similarly, would the point of return in time move with the machine or remain at the original point of departure? I decided I should try to study this a bit more. But now I wanted to make sure the future me would leave me alone for a while and if he did not have his time machine, he should have some difficulty coming over to my time to bother me. I held on to the machine tightly, and let my mind be filled with the wish to return home. In a flash I reappeared in my own apartment. I looked around, and felt I preferred the future state of the apartment. I put the time machine on the shelf next to my original and went on to my computer to look for a new floor and some other improvements I had just seen. A couple of hours later I had ordered a new kitchen, was busy scheduling a replacement of the floor and was looking at some options for a new sofa, when the time machine suddenly rang. What is this now, it’s also a phone? “There’s a message from Jari,” the machine spoke. “Would you like to hear it?” “Yes please,” I replied, bewildered. There was a second of silence, then my voice spoke from the machine. “Hey there old me. What a brilliant idea to steal my time machine.” I smiled to myself, thinking the same. But then how was he - “So now we have two machines. I had been thinking about getting a backup machine, and you solved that problem, so thanks very much!” I took a deep breath and shook my head. Super, well done. “Would you like to reply?” asked the voice of the time machine. “No,” I croaked. “I didn’t quite get that; would you like to reply?” the machine repeated the question. “No, I do not want to reply!” I shouted as clearly as I could. The machine light blinked a couple of times and then went off. I took another deep breath and slumped into my chair. Well, at least none of the future versions of me visited me today, even if my mission was not successful. And, I had some home improvement projects planned now, so that was a win for today. All in all, I should be happy. I went to the fridge and got myself a beer and a ready made meal which I popped into the microwave. When the meal was ready to eat, I switched on my tv and retired to my sofa to enjoy my dinner and some streaming tv gold. Much later that night, I wrote an update to my loyal social media followers. “Turns out temporal shielding will not work unless I get Wil Wheaton to reverse the polarity of the chronometric flux amplifiers and he’s not answering my calls. Understandable since if he showed up I’d only make fun of his jumpers. So anyway I had a brilliant idea. I went to future and stole the long haired future me’s time travel machine. I thought he looked younger, so in one strike I’d deprive both of them from the technology they were using to harass me. Got back, and so I had two time machines. A few minutes later future me sent a note through time saying it was a brilliant idea (yeah, I knew that) and thanking me for the backup device. Fantastic.” Of course I had not even tried to reach out to Wil Wheaton, nor had I even considered it. I am not a complete idiot, even if evidence might sometimes indicate otherwise. I just thought it would make the update a little bit funnier. Though to be honest, I am not sure how many of my connections even know who Wil Wheaton is.

Comment on the Time machine story

 If anyone is wondering about the time travel story and the social media updates within that story, those are the actual updates I posted on Facebook back in 2013 or so I think. And this is actually true even if anyone wasn't wondering about them. Anyway, I had managed to save the updates in text form, even if I did at some point clean up my FB account. I now wish I had taken screenshots, but I didn't.

Anyway, I posted them once a day, as one would post any updates from one's life. It was a kind of story telling experiment. Anyway, the plan was always to build the story around those updates but I was debating between various formats from just writing out the story to creating a comic to even animation or live video.

Now it seems I've finally managed to make a start on writing out the story.

Fiction: My mail order time machine, third part

 My mail order time machine

Third

Had more visitors. First another future me (this one was bald, while the one yesterday had long hair) came by and told me that the robot overlord will get whiff of my plans for world domination by researching old NSA archives. Then the one from yesterday showed up and the two proceeded to have an argument about my plans and what I should do. I was in no mood for my stupid crap so went out for a beer. When I got back they were gone, and so was what was supposed to be my dinner for today and tomorrow. Bastards. I am now researching temporal shielding to see if it might prevent further visits. 

The day started off like many other days in my life. With a medium-strength headache. Maybe it was the whisky, I thought. Or the beers, possibly even the wine. Impossible to know. I got up and walked into my bathroom for a quick shower. As I was rinsing my hair, the door opened and a bald head peeked in. “Ah, you are in the shower,” the head said, with my voice. “Yeah, go wait in the living room or something,” I said. “And close the door!” I added when the head pulled back. The owner of the head did as I asked and closed the door. Is this how things were going to be now? Future versions of me just dropping by unexpectedly, invading my privacy and in general being a massive source of annoyance and nuisance. I wondered what this new version wanted. And what’s with the bald head? Am I going to lose my hair? Of course, I reminded myself that I had shaved my head before, so it could just be that in whatever time this new visitor came from I am still going through the cycle of letting my hair grow out and then shaving it all off and letting it grow out again. I suppose it could even the guy from yesterday, I thought, if he had shaved his head. Then again, it's all the same guy, me. Is it the one who visited me yesterday if he waited one day to come back? Is it still him if he waited a week? A month? And further, what if it was him but a month earlier? After I was done with my shower, I went back to the bedroom and got dressed, choosing for a simple black t-shirt and blue jeans. Then I walked out to the living room. The bald me was sitting on the sofa playing with my game console. Do I not have one in the future? Or do future versions of me not have a lot of time to play? I need to make sure I spend a bit more time playing while I still can, I thought. “So what is it that you want?” I asked, perhaps a bit more rudely than I wanted. Or perhaps just slightly less obviously rudely. Or maybe I wasn’t being and sounding rude enough. I couldn’t quite make up my mind. “I just woke up this morning with this memory of visiting the older version of me that had just got the time machine, and I thought I should follow up on that,” the bald me said. “Yeah, ok.” So, he was from further in the future than my visitor yesterday. “I didn’t really have much time to try to do anything yet.” “Good,” he said. “You also shouldn’t rush into anything. Time travel can be ...” his voice trailed off, along with his gaze that seemed to suddenly be concentrating on something other than the physically present world around him. “Time travel can be dangerous,” he finished after a moment, his eyes turning to look directly into mine. “Ok...” “You met the robots.” “Right. I did. Well, one, I met one.” “They are not necessarily happy with someone else planning to take over the world.” “But I didn’t - “ “Not yet, but you will,” he cut me off. “That was another thing I just remembered this morning, the plans I – you – made for world domination after the first visit.” “Good plans?” “The best plans.” Clearly, I had retained my mock arrogance. Also, I hadn’t made any plans. Not yet, anyway. Maybe he’ll share some of them to save me some trouble. “So did I – we – follow through on those plans?” I asked. “I only remember making them, not acting on them yet. Time works in a funny way, with changes. They take time to propagate through time. Come to think it, maybe I could try to explain it, that might help me to understand it even better myself. You know, if you learn it now, you’ve had plenty of time to think about it by the time you become me.” The bald me got up and looked around as if looking for something. “I don’t suppose you have a whiteboard I don’t remember having?” I shook my head. “Oh well, I just suddenly felt inspired,” the bald me said. “But I’m still not really a presenter.” “You seem more comfortable with it than I am,” I offered. He looked at me with a small smile. “To be fair, that is rather easy.” Then he brought his hands together with a clap. “Ok, imagine that you are able to travel through time.” “That I -” He pinched his index finger and thumb together on both hands in front of his face and pulled them to sides as if he was pulling on the ends of an invisible string. “Just listen now.” I zipped my lips and threw the key over my shoulder. He nodded approvingly. Of course, zippers don’t have keys so my gesture was flawed and nonsensical but that didn’t bother either of us. “So, imagine that you are able to travel through time,” he started again. I lifted my hands, rolling my eyes. “And you decide to go into the past and change something.” He looked at me, pointedly. Should I now say something? I wasn’t the one that had changed anything, though I did go to the past... but nobody saw me, and I did not change anything. As far as I knew. “Maybe you don’t even directly change anything yourself, but you somehow initiate a change. Doesn’t really matter, the end result is that something in your past changes from how it was, and that change has consequences over time all the way to your current time.” He looked at me again. I made an effort to look interested. “Before you went to the past to make that change,” he continued, “you had certain specific memories of your life, of events around you, et cetera et cetera.” I was nodding my head slightly; where this seemed to be heading was sort of making some kind of sense. So far. “When you get back, the change has been made in your past. Again, whether you directly changed something, or someone in the past did something different because of your visit, doesn’t matter. What matters is that the timeline is in flux at that moment.” I opened my mouth to speak, and he lifted one finger up tilting his head slightly. “Now, you still remember the original timeline, and you don’t right away know what the full impact of the change has been. I, for example, remember not having a time machine.” “Well, so do I, I only got it like yesterday or so.” “Not what I meant. And I believe it was the day before for you.” He looked at me as if I was the biggest disappointment he had ever dealt with. I have to admit I sometimes feel the same. “The point I’m trying to make is that the changes catch up with your present gradually. And it can be very disorienting, it all depends a bit on the magnitude and number of changes the timeline – and you – have to adjust to.” “So, what you meant is that the time machine is new to our timeline. You went through being me without having had a time machine.” “Correct. And learning about it was not a big change. But the slightly earlier me learned about it before I did and as I was a bit more gung-ho during that period of my life, he naturally paid you a visit. And suddenly I remember making that visit. And then the memory of being visited makes its way to me too.” “Sounds disturbing.” “That’s one way to call it.” The bald me sat down. “And then I start to get these memories of the plans I had made – you made – will make.” He looked at me. “And those plans are becoming clearer and clearer.” “But you still have no memories of having followed through with any of those plans, right?” “That is correct, but the robots have caught wind of it, so I must have done something.” “Or maybe we’ve talked about the plans somewhere where the robots have seen or heard it?” I offered. The baldie shrugged his shoulders. “Can be I guess.” Then he looked at me pointedly. “Actually, didn’t you post some stuff on social media about it?” I hesitated. “Not really...” The bald me pulled out a mobile phone and fiddled with it for a bit. “Yeah, you did. Just yesterday you mentioned your nefarious plans.” He showed me my update from last night. “Just that could be enough to get the robots interested, especially if they have a way to detect the time travel activity, which I actually suspect they do. Anyway, I cannot see if you’ll post more, since when here I can only access what is current, so just try to avoid it ok?” “Sure,” I said, trying to sound convinced. Or convincing. Or both. “Will do. Or won’t do, rather.” I flashed a smile. He looked at me blankly. I think I was failing on the convincing goal. “Anyway, I think I should get going,” the bald me said and got a constipated look on his face. I wasn’t sure if that was the reason he wanted to go, or a result of him trying to concentrate on going home. But suddenly there was a rush of air being replaced by something arriving with a flashy bang. It was the other future me. He looked around, saw me and the bald me, and shook his head. “Right, who’s this then?” “Hairy, meet baldie. Baldie, hairy,” I offered introductions. “I don’t remember you,” the hairy me said. “That’d be because I’m future you,” the bald me replied. “Though in a moment you should probably remember me visiting your past self,” he continued. “Right. I’m still a bit new to this time travel stuff,” the hairy me said and took one of my dining table chairs and sat down. “So, what’s up?” “I was just telling our past self about the attention we may be getting from the robots, because of our plans for world domination,” the bald me started. “Do you think they are getting worried? Good.” “Not so much worried, as perhaps annoyed. You see, we are nothing but ants to them.” “I think I disagree.” “I’ve actually spent time monitoring them, which I don’t remember you having done. So I think I know just a little bit better how the robots think. And I can tell you that they would find your attitude disrespectful. That alone would invite a smacking down.” “We cannot live in fear of a bit of a ´smacking down´. We have to do what is right.” “Taking over the world is what you would call doing what is right, then?” “If the alternative is them taking over the world, as they did when there was nobody to oppose them, yes.” “And do you think with the plans we have, that we would be any better than they are?” I looked at the two future versions of me. They were starting to become irritated with each other, and I didn’t think this argument was going to go anywhere anytime soon, so I started to think I probably had something better to do with my time than to watch and listen to myself arguing with myself, when I didn’t really have anything to offer to the argument. Not that I felt they did either, but they had convinced themselves otherwise. I quietly made my way to the door, put on my shoes and a hoodie and slipped out. I returned home later that day, and both future versions of me were gone. They seemed to have stayed a while though. I cleaned up the empty beer cans and bottles, closed the half empty bottle of wine – then on second thought poured myself a glass and took a sip. Checked the fridge and saw they had not restocked. Also, my left over pasta casserole was gone. I headed back out to get some fresh food and drinks from the supermarket. Later that night, I was in front of computer. I had the thought I would like to find a way to prevent these visits from my futures selves, so I was diving into the world of imaginary physics of temporal displacement theories – which I guess were not necessarily as imaginary as I would have thought just a couple of days ago – and trying to look for ways to create some kind of shield that could stop anyone from being able to travel to my current time and location. Before turning in even later that night, I wrote a quick update for my devote fanbase on social media. “Had more visitors. First another future me (this one was bald, while the one yesterday had long hair) came by and told me that the robot overlord will get whiff of my plans for world domination by researching old NSA archives. Then the one from yesterday showed up and the two proceeded to have an argument about my plans and what I should do. I was in no mood for my stupid crap so went out for a beer. When I got back they were gone, and so was what was supposed to be my dinner for today and tomorrow. Bastards. I am now researching temporal shielding to see if it might prevent further visits.” I fell asleep to the steady dinging of the avalanche of likes.

 

Fiction: My mail order time machine, second part

My mail order time machine

Second 

Had a visit from my future self. Apparently I never got around to taking the time machine out on garbage collection days, which doesn't surprise me. He wanted to know why I didn't make more of an effort to take over the world when I had the chance. So taking another look at my nefarious plans. 

The next morning, I woke up with a mild headache. Too many beers, I thought to myself and decided for the umpteenth time to not do it again. Or maybe it was the wine that was the problem. Who could tell, I thought and went to take a quick shower. When I got out of the shower and walked into my living room, towel in hand drying off bits and pieces, I saw myself sitting on the sofa and playing a game on the game console that shall not be named to avoid any unpaid advertising. I looked like myself, with long hair and short stubble. Not bad, I thought. Not great, but not bad. I wrapped my towel around my waist. It was just me in the room with myself, but I still felt some level of decency should be observed. The me on the sofa turned to look at me standing there with my hair still a bit wet and hanging over my eyes. I brushed the hair away from my face with my hand and wrapped the towel around my waist a little bit tighter. “Um.” That’s all I managed to say, looking at the other me. “Hi,” the me on the sofa said. “Sorry to pop in like this, but I wanted to have a bit of a chat.” He turned off the console and the TV. “Why don’t you get dressed though, I’ll make us a cup of coffee. Or two cups of coffee, since I don’t like sharing.” He got up from the sofa and started toward the kitchen, then stopped and looked at me. “That is, if I can remember where everything is,” he added with a smile. “Um, ok,” I said, and turned around and walked to the bedroom. “Just don’t wear the same thing as I’m wearing, because then even I might start getting confused,” the other me called out after me. “Ok,” I said and closed the bedroom door behind me. I couldn’t remember what the other me was wearing, and I felt it would be stupid to ask, so the first thing I did was to try to logically decide what would be the least likely thing for me to wear if I was a future me and decided to pop back into the past to give myself a visit. “I’m wearing one of my Commodore –shirts and blue jeans,” I heard from behind the door. And then I heard steps heading back into kitchen. “Got it, thanks,” I replied. How helpful of me, I thought to myself as I opened my wardrobe and started to look through my not-so-extensive collection of clothing items. As I was going through my options, my brains engaged in a quick process of decision making. I don’t think I have any commodore-shirts so should easily manage to avoid that. Blue jeans are the only kind of trousers I have these days though, but if I wear something already a bit older then I think I’ll be safe. And for the shirt just a plain white one will do. I closed the wardrobe and checked myself in the mirror. After I was finished admiring the view I headed back out to the living room. The coffee was ready and the other me was sitting at the table. There were two cups full of steaming deliciousness. I took one. “That’s mine.” “Oh, sorry.” I put the cup down and reached for the other. “That’s mine too,” the other me said with the wink as he picked up the second cup. “As you are the past me, anything you have is mine, because I am you. You, however, are not me, because you lack the experience that would make you me.” “The cups, of course, are both yours as well,” he then added. “Next time I might bring one of my own.” I gave a small mock laugh. “Ha-ha.” Leave it to me to spoil the joke and make it into philosophical exploration of self. I took the first cup and tasted the coffee. It was as it was supposed to be. We are talking about instant coffee anyway, so expectations aren’t set too high to make it easier to meet them. “What did you want to talk about?” I asked the other me. “I was just curious why you never made more use of the time machine.” He put his cup down and stared into my eyes. “No schemes to make money, no attempt to get ahead in anyway. The least you could have done is to take over the world, so I didn’t have to.” The future me seems to think himself quite a comedian. “To be honest,” he continued, “I had forgotten about the time machine myself. I think I thought I – we – you – had thrown it out, but I just found it in one of my moving boxes. I tried it out, and it worked just like it did the first time.” “Where did you go?” I asked. “Well, here,” he said, gesturing to his physical presence and the space he was in. “Oh, so coming here to my time, this is your proof that the machine still works.” “Indeed, it is.” “Works as well as any other trip, I guess.” “And it was safe, since I knew you had just got the machine. And I wanted to give you a nudge to do something with it.” “So that you don’t have to.” “Exactamundo,” the other me said and pointed at me with his coffee cup before taking one more sip. He then stood up. “But now I probably should head back to my time.” “When is that?” I asked. I had no plan to visit the other me, but I was curious how old he was. He looked good. The other me smiled. “I know what you’re thinking. I’m from ten years in your future, and I’ve taken up some slightly better habits than the ones I had when I was you.” He walked over to the centre of the room and waved his arms around as if to check that there was nothing too close to him. “You know, the thought just came to me that it’s a little bit odd that I had no memory of me coming to meet myself before I made the trip. And then some memories suddenly started to pop up,” the other me said. “I wonder why that is,” he continued with a puzzled look on his face. “Oh well,” he then shrugged, “Now I want to be home.” The other me vanished in a flash of light. There was a quick disturbance of the air as it rushed to fill the space where his physical body had been. Later that night, I finished the day with another update on social media. “Had a visit from my future self. Apparently I never got around to taking the time machine out on garbage collection days, which doesn't surprise me. He wanted to know why I didn't make more of an effort to take over the world when I had the chance. So taking another look at my nefarious plans.” Again, after a few moments the computer speaker started making dinging sounds to mark people liking my post. One could get addicted to this, I thought, and turned the volume down. I should probably look into those habits of mine, and take up some better ones, I thought to myself as I opened my first beer. But before that, some relaxed relaxing. Obviously, I'll get to it at some point.

Fiction: My mail order time machine, first part

My mail order time machine

First 

My mail order time machine arrived. Went to the past and it was all reruns. Went to the future and didn't like the robot overlord. So I guess you all are stuck with me in the present. 

An ad in one of those free distribution papers caught my eye the other day. The ad was by a company advertising a time machine to “right the wrongs of the past for a better future”. I would perhaps boldly claim that I am not always one to fall for stupid scams. Usually, they need to be at least a little bit clever to get me, but I somehow just felt like I needed to have this machine. I really cannot tell why that feeling was so strong. Thinking back to that day, I don’t think I expected the machine to work – though I think I did have some kind of irrational hope that it would – but it promised an exhilarating audio-visual experience I wouldn’t want to miss. I must somewhat reluctantly admit that if there was such a thing as a list of things I never want to miss, things I wouldn’t want to miss would almost certainly be on it. The other thing they promised was guaranteed satisfaction, or my money back if for any reason I am not happy with my purchase. Price was certainly steep, but I figured it would be worth it if my satisfaction was indeed guaranteed. And in case it did not work out as promised, which I did consider the more likely possibility, I’d just get my money back. The way I saw it, I could not lose, and so I went ahead and cut out the little coupon, filled in my details, ran off to drop it in the mailbox and started waiting. It did occur to me that if they really had a working time machine, they should go back in time when they receive my coupon so that they can send my machine to arrive as soon as I had sent in my coupon. That would have been legitimately cool. But that did not happen. Maybe there is a problem with post and my coupon never arrives. Or maybe they just do not have the ability for the level of creative thinking needed. So, I waited. It was odd to not have the instant confirmation that my order has been received, though. It was a bit odd to have a coupon to cut out, fill and mail, to be honest. But this is how ordering things by post used to work before everything was online on the internet. There also were no updates on the processing of the order, when it would be shipping, or any tracking information. I just did not know if the machine was ever going to arrive. How refreshing that felt. After a few days I stopped thinking about it. It took a while, and then a bit longer, but finally my mail order time machine arrived. Just before I forgot I had ordered it. One could say it was an expected surprise. I was admittedly somewhat excited to open the package and unwrap the device. Afterwards I did think I should have done an unboxing video, but then I thought I’ll just go back in time later to create one. In the box with the device was a folded A4 sheet. I unfolded it, prepared for complicated instructions. “PRESS button to turn ON. Then follow instructions.” That’s what the sheet said and that is all that it said. With a picture of a kitten playing with a ball below the text. Because kittens follow instructions? I couldn’t figure it out. On the bottom of the sheet there was the name and address of the company that had sold the machine to me. I turned the paper over, but the other side was empty, apart from circular coffee stain. I cleaned away the packaging materials and placed the machine on my dining table. I looked at it. It was a black, square box, roughly 5 centimetres high and 15 centimetres wide and deep. There were no visible ports or connectors, which was just as well since it came with no cables. The top of the machine was just slightly rounded so that the middle part was a bit higher than the sides and, in the middle of that, there was a round button-like indentation. I shrugged my shoulders. “Ok, whatever, here we go,” I said to myself and pressed the button. My head was at once filled with a singular question: which time do you want to travel to? Without giving it much thought I thought the eighties, which I feel very nostalgic about. I felt the urge to be more precise and came up with a date of May 5, 1982, at 1pm sharp. I added our home address at the time as a physical location. And everything around me got a bit blurry, and I felt being pulled into different directions, there was a blinding flash of light and a sudden jolt with an audible bang and then it all stopped. I tried to look around, blinking, but it took a moment before my eyers recovered. When they did, I could see I was standing in front of our old home. I looked around, somewhat astonished. I tried to take a step but stumbled on a tricycle and fell over catching myself with my hands. I got back up on my feet and walked over to the front door. I tried the door, but it wouldn't open. Next to the door the wall had a small ledge, on which was a black plastic carburettor cover. Our spare key was hidden under it. I took the key, unlocked the door and put they back in its hiding place. Ok, this is kind of cool, I thought, and stepped in. There was a little ante room, and I pulled the front door closed behind me and opened the door to the entrance room where the shoes and coats were kept and from where doors led to the kitchen ahead, and to the living room on the left. There was also a door to a small WC. It was like going back in time, I thought to myself as I stopped and took a good look around. And that is exactly what it was. I had gone back in time. I had still had some doubts before I opened the door, but now standing in my old childhood home I could not explain it any other way. It was just like I remembered, from before when the kitchen was renovated. There was the wooden stove we were then still mostly using for cooking and baking, even if there was a small electric stove as well. The old radio was there on the counter, I turned it on and was greeted by era-appropriate music. I turned it off again. I peeked into the living room, the black and white tv was there on the left next to the spiral staircase. The old beige leather sofa set was still there too and the bookcase with all the pictures, the encyclopaedia and other assorted books and knickknacks. I turned on the tv. One channel was showing some school tv programming, and the other channel displayed the tuning picture. And that was all there was. I turned the TV off and checked out the newspaper. Reading the news was like traveling back in time. Which I had just done, I had to remind myself. It was all so familiar, yet at the same time not and I realized that back then I wasn’t actively following news and current events – I was after all just shy of nine years old – but I had been on some level aware of these things I was now reading about in the paper. I looked out the window and suddenly saw a car going past coming into the yard. It was the whole family, returning from somewhere. I must leave, I thought. I looked around, as if searching for a way out. Then I thought, how do I leave? How do I get back to my own time? I want to get back to my own time, I thought. And then everything got blurry again, and after a quick flash during which I this time closed my eyes to not be blinded again, I was standing back in my own apartment in the current time. Ok, so that’s how it works, I thought to myself. Visiting the past was certainly something I could enjoy doing a bit more, though I felt that I would have to do a bit more research and more planning for any future trips. I had probably been just plain lucky to not get caught up in a weird meeting with my younger self. Or anyone who might find it concerning to see a strange man roaming about the property or in the house. At least I did not have any memories of meeting someone like me in our house when I was a kid, so I guess that won’t happen. What about the future then, I thought. And I pressed the button on top of the machine again. May 5, 2056, please, location in front of Amsterdam Central station. A moment later I was standing in front of the central station. It still looked like a construction site, very much the same as it had looked like the last five years in my time. I briefly wondered if the current project had broken all records for delays, but probably they were working on something new. In any case, the barriers that had been setup to prevent tourists and others not in full control of their faculties from walking into the machinery, trams, traffic and into the water, had conveniently shielded me from anyone’s view as I imagined I had pretty much appeared out of thin air. Not that there were so many people around, I noticed suddenly, as I was looking around. It was also somewhat quiet with the trams and busses. The few people whom I could see were walking very quickly and keeping their eyes down. I was about to try to approach one of them, when suddenly I heard a robotic voice. “Hey, you there! Human!” I looked around and saw a metallic looking figure approaching one of the people walking over the open area in front of the station. The person, who looked like a man from a distance, stopped and turned in the direction of the figure that in all appearances seemed to be a robotic, artificial entity, but kept their face pointed downwards. “What is your business here?” the robot asked, and the man said something too quietly for me to hear. The robot was quiet for a moment, looking slightly upward as if it were listening to something, and then waved its hand. “Very well, proceed. Bleep-Bloop.” The man hurried on his way and the robot proceeded to cross the station square. “The Overlord appreciation day is coming!” came suddenly a booming voice from everywhere and I saw the whole side of the station had turned into a screen. It was showing a gigantic robotic figure with human-like but clearly artificial face that was smiling in a very menacing, inhuman way. The sight sent chills down my spine. “Are you prepared to show your appreciation to your Overlord?” the voice continued. The imagery showed people bowing as low as they can in front of the army of robots, with the giant robotic figure looming over. Then it showed the giant robot picking up a human baby and pretending to kiss it. The baby seemed terrified. If this is the future, I think I’d rather not get there, I thought to myself. I want to go home. After a quick flash and a moment of disorientation I was home. I looked at the time machine. It worked, and while the quick jump to the past had been enjoyable enough, the visit to the future had somehow put me off the idea of enjoying traveling through time. I could of course say that I'm not satisfied, return it and get my money back. On the other hand, when did I pay for it? All I did was fill in the coupon and send it over. I realised that I actually had not paid anything to anyone, and there was no invoice or any instructions for payment in the box either – I checked everything again very carefully – so I wasn’t quite sure how I’d pay either. Well, I don’t mind, I thought. If they want their money, they know where I am. They might not know when I am though, I thought to myself jokingly. I took the machine and put it back into the box and shoved the box into my hallway closet for now. I was thinking I should probably just put it out on the street on the next garbage collection day. But maybe I’d try it out another time. In any case I can always throw it out later. However, that was enough for today, I thought, and started thinking about dinner. Quick look through the fridge revealed I would have to head out to get some groceries if I wanted to eat anything other than plain bread tonight. So off I went for a little shopping expedition to the nearest little supermarket around the corner from my building. A little bit later, I was sitting on my couch in front of the television while gobbling down a microwave lasagna with a nice cold beer and watching some exciting tv series that I had obtained completely and 100% legally for my viewing pleasure. Later that night I posted an update on my social media profile. “My mail order time machine arrived. Went to the past and it was all reruns. Went to the future and didn't like the robot overlord. So I guess you all are stuck with me in the present.” Sitting back, I waited, hoped, for the likes to pour in. It took a while, but eventually they started piling up. I’m popular, I thought and the thought satisfied me. There were a couple of comments asking what’s up and if I was feeling ok, but I ignored those for now.

Old things

Edit: Fixed the title of one of the tv-shows.

I like old things.

Old things are cool. But thinking about old things can make one feel old. Because when I was young, those old things were not old. They were (mostly) new or at least not as old as they are now.

I enjoy those old things that used to be new things when I was young. For example, I like to play around with old computers. I used to say that I play with retro computers, but then I read somewhere that they are not retro computers if they are actually the original old computers. Not sure what one should call them then though. Vintage? Or is that just a fancy way of saying old? If so then I am a vintage human. Though I suppose I am not that old yet, just barely past 50. When I was young, 50 was ancient though.

Anyway, so these old computers are not retro. Retro is something that is like something old, but not (necessarily) actually old. Although I suppose there is no rule to say that a retro thing couldn't also be old thing in its own right. Anyway... So these remakes like TheC64 and TheVIC20 and TheA500 are retro. Likewise if I would create for example a game that looks and plays like the old 80s computer games, that would be considered retro. But the actual old game is just old, not retro. There are other people who disagree with this, though, and to these other people using old computers is retrocomputing and playing old games is retrogaming. So I guess the question of what is or is not retro, is something about which many people could spend a lot of time arguing, while others might just agree to disagree with each other.

Another example of old things I like is old TV shows. Shows like Miami Vice, Battlestar Galactica (the original one, though I think by now some might already consider the remake old too), Knight Rider, Star Trek. For me the old Star Trek includes the original series, the Next Generation, Deep Space 9 and Voyager in the context of this post - I do not include Enterprise, partly because I didn't watch it when it was new, and partly because it just doesn't feel old enough to me. One could also argue against including DS9 and Voyager because I wasn't strictly speaking a kid anymore when those were out, but it's my list and I reserve the right to be inconsistent in what is included if I feel like it. Other shows inclde Monthy Python, The Saint, The Persuaders!, Streethawk. Also mustn't forget the animated series called Once upon a time .. man, space, life, those three shows I really enjoyed as a kid.

I am not listing A-team, which is a classic many would bring up, because I never saw it when I was a kid. Which seems to be perhaps somewhat unusual. The Prisoner is another one I saw too late, and just wasn't interested. I did like Sapphire and Steele though, but recently realised I probably saw less of it than my memory suggests, and can really only remember one episode as well.

Space 1999 I can hardly remember. (Evidently so, I couldn't even remember the correct title. In my defence, the title in Finnish was Avaruusasema Alfa, which translates to Space Station Alpha.) Another one I did enjoy was Alias Smith and Jones, though again can remember very little about it. Another that left a lasting impression was Happy Days. And for a while on Sundays I remember watching a show which I recently found out was called Nobody's House. Again memories are vague, more like a feeling of a moment when I was watching the show rather than actually remembering much of anything of the show itself.

I think this topic deserves some follow up posts, but for now this will do. After all, it's been a while since I posted anything.

Cooking

I like cooking. I also like to think I am not entirely useless as a cook. Why do I think that? As far as I know, no-one has suffered any serious ill effects from my cooking. As far as I know. I do not count mild discomfort or being bothered by the noise or the smells. Not that I am particularly noisy or smelly either, but sometimes the noise of the pots and pans, or just my swearing, could get to someone. The smells, I think I should not need to explain, but just to be sure I am not talking about escaping gas. There’s a couple of dishes that I do that usually turn out well. The first one I would like to mention is a Finnish dish called Lihamakaronilaatikko. It is an oven casserole of mincemeat and macaroni. Other types of pasta could be used, but then it would not be lihamakaronilaatikko. One could also skip or substitute the meat and drop the liha (meat in Finnish) from the name. Some do. Add some finely chopped onion, garlic, perhaps some paprika and corn, maybe peas, and it is turning into a feast of a dish. The pasta is cooked separately, though one may want to leave it a bit al dente. The sauce, cooked with mincemeat and vegetables, seasoned with salt, pepper, some herbs, is mixed with the pasta and poured into a greased oven dish. Leave a couple of centimetres to the top edge of the oven dish, to avoid things from boiling over. It’s better to have the oven dish a bit less full, than try to fit as much as possible, so if it looks a bit full consider using two dishes or saving some of the mixture for another time. Then a mix of milk and eggs is poured over the mixture. Optimally just about coming to the level of the pasta-sauce mix. Sprinkle some (and then some) grated cheese on top, and into the oven for about an hour at 175 degrees Celsius. The dish is ready when the egg-milk mixture has solidified, and the cheese is nicely brown. Take it out and let it settle for a bit. Enjoy with a nice side of a salad, or on its own. I usually try make enough to have leftovers that can be enjoyed on another day. Next one is a burger mix. I use it to make burgers, meatballs, and meatloaves. I am not one to brag much and often, but I have been told by other people, who are not me or paid by me or threatened with bodily or other harm by me, that my burgers taste good. So, the burger mix is made up of the following ingredients: milk, breadcrumbs, egg, minced beef or pork (or a mix of both), finely chopped onion, finely chopped garlic, salt, pepper, powdered paprika, Worcestershire sauce. I usually do not measure the ingredients very carefully, but I try reasonably hard to not put too much or too little of anything into the mixture. Form into patties, meatballs, or meatloaf. Put the patties on a grill (cooked according to personal preference), meatballs on a pan (medium heat, keep turning till they have a nice colour and transfer to a sauce to finish cooking) or in the oven, meatloaf in the oven (200 degrees Celsius for about 30-40 minutes depending on the size and shape). Third one I would like to mention is a Christmas dish, a potato casserole. Boil potatoes, then mash them. Add a bit of milk, salt, pepper, a bit of flour and mix well. Keep in warm place for a day or so. 50 degrees Celsius in oven works well. Warning, the mixture may develop a smell that one might find slightly unpleasant. If you do not like it, do not sniff it. After a while, the mixture should be getting a bit sweet. If not, or not enough to your liking, add some syrup and mix well. Pour into oven dishes, leaving space to avoid boiling over and bake in the oven in 150 degrees Celsius for a couple of hours. Delicious. So, there you have it. Don't try these at home, unless you really, really want to. I am not responsible for your results though.