It is real and it is finally here

The Smell-o-Scope! What would Professor Farnsworth think, his invention having been presented again. To think, if this occurs, we might have to watch out for a giant comet-sized ball of garbage heading for us.

Just Remember: Science fiction leads to some amazing and wacky inventions.

Future Grammar

I may have misspoken in side the time sphere. I'm sure I will go back and fix those weeks I didn't post anything...eventually. One thing I have noticed on my trips to the past was that there is a Science Fiction channel named SyFy and a mystery channel called Cloo on cable. For those of you that love that, there is bad news for you coming on the horizon. In the near future, there happens to be an intense bout with illiteracy in the world. In the end, everyone reverts to the original spellings of things. Word creativity ends up being murdered a slow and painful death.

As it so happens, I am a rebel, an innovator, and a sklinker (that's right, I just made up a word). Sure there are other sklinkers, revivers of past abilities, and we revel in our skill against the black-and-white uniformity. It can get tiresome having the same thing, day-in, day-out, listening to Sir Mix-A-Lot. That is why we try something unique with our words.

Just Remember: It's great to be creative, but never let that get in the way of grammar.

Even Further into the Future

Fleeing into the future, I wanted to see what had become of the world, what had become of myself. The funny thing about fleeing into the future is how different things can be. Perhaps a scarred face or a an evil lair of doom. In the future, all I found was more of the same, but slightly different. Rats ceased to be, but owls had become a real infestation. A ride to the moon was no problem anymore. And, of course, politics take some sort of crazy turn. The thing that baffles me about the future is how much it can change a person. It is easy to assume that we all know who we are now, but seeing our future selves makes for an odd view. We talk about the horrors of being a face-scarred renegade or potentially becoming a run-down geriatric. Those visions may seem horrific as hell, but in truth, they aren't that bad. Having done something amazingly wild or even having done something is something spectacular.

The only thing that needs fearing is traveling to the future to find that your future self is doing what you have been doing all along. Spinning the same wheels, running around the same circle, and hoping that things will change. That must be some real horror to find that everything you ever wanted and worked for will continue to be everything you want and work for and not necessarily getting to that goal.

Just Remember: The present is always now and the future is up-and-coming. Why bother not changing where we are now to make what is up-and-coming worth the wait?

Visiting those Lost

Traveling all over time gives one the ability to do what they want: study, revise, omit, etc. The only problem with the concept of travel is not being about to revise what we want to, only that doesn't necessarily pertain to us. Having that inability, it leaves me with no other option but to merely study certain parts of the past. I took the Time Sphere back to the late 1980s where I decided to visit home. It wasn't until I was outside my old subdivision that I realized the visit wouldn't make any sense. Turning around, I headed back into town to see what the town used to look like when I was young; however, I was faced with one massive problem: being Hispanic in a very rural region.

The visit to town was going fine up until a group of rowdy young men decided to show me a lesson. I ran. I ran as fast as I could and ended up in the town church. The building, for the most part, was empty. Trying to regain my breath, the priest and a parishioner came up to me and asked me what was wrong. Omitting the entire time-travel-thing, I told him about the men outside. The priest opened the door and the men started into the building threatening and taunting me. The father tried to show them logic and reason, but they wouldn't have it. It was then that the parishioner stood up to them, spouting off names and claiming he knew their parents. It was a strange display.

When the young men left, the parishioner and I attended to the priest. It wasn't until then that I realized who he was. I could have said anything to him. I could have told him of what to expect or what steps to take to postpone his inevitable end, but before I could think of anything to say he was on his way home with his son, a young me. It was then that I opened the time sphere and left. The past is too upsetting sometimes.

Just Remember: "So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past." - F. Scott Fitzgerald

Back to the Past

Having failed to utterly destroy Taylor Swift and then getting locked in a club bathroom kind of wore on me. I needed to do something completely successful and amazing. I went back to the 1980s to the set of Back to the Future so I could steal the DeLorean from the set, but then it occurred to me, if I steal the main prop from that movie then the movie might not get made. Sad, I stayed a while to see the actors act. Then the director, Robert Zimeckis, came over to me and asked what I was doing on set. I could see from the glimmer in his eye that he wanted me in the film...at least until he had the police handcuff me and put me in their cruiser.

I couldn't escape with the time code as it was in my back pocket and couldn't easily read it. I ended up getting taken in for trespassing. The cops took everything from my pockets, including the time code. When they saw it they asked why I had a sheet of a bunch of numbers. I had them read the numbers on it for me. As the time code appeared, I grabbed my things and shoved an officer out of the way, jumping in and traveling several years into the future, ending up on the set of Back to the Future III. I got in the DeLorean and rode off into the time sphere. Apparently, the time sphere isn't car friendly so only me and half of the DeLorean made it back to the future.

Just Remember: I HAVE THE FLUX CAPACITOR, BITCHES!

Paradiso Lost

After having failed to halt the existence of the wretched Taylor Swift, I decided to return to the future and join in on a past time that I have not done in basically ever: night clubbing. Actually, it didn't start like that at all. It actually started with me walking downtown and finding this bar called Level 42, a bar geared toward every gamer nerd out there. There are game-themed drinks, recliner chairs,  and game systems. They have everything...except for food. I ended up leaving and going to Paradiso Pizza on the block kitty corner from the bar. For a pizza place with such a classy name, it has some really strange decor: all white floors, all white brick walls, and murals of anime girls.

As I dined on pizza, I chatted up the bartender and discovered that there were two additional floors above the pizza parlor that were a night club. He even took my name to put on a list so I could get in for free later. Seeing as the club wasn't supposed to start hopping until midnight or so, I went back to Level 42 to kill some time. Level 42 ended up being pretty cool, but having overstayed my welcome on the game systems, I made back for Pardiso Pizza a little earlier than intended. I walked up to the second floor. The floor was a solid, plastic white matte. Neon lights, the only thing to give life to the bland decor. There were solid, white plastic cylinders as tables or potentially chairs...it was kind of hard to say. Also, there was a large white plastic couch at one end of the room complete with one female waitress that looked tired of the club scene.

I snuck up to the third floor. This level seemed a little more incredible than the previous. There were couches in the shape of clouds (cool to look at, but incredibly difficult to get comfortable on). There was a floating island of a bar, all white as you may have guessed, with small digital televisions hanging down from the ceiling all around the bar. The shadow of a woman gyrated a dance in a fashion that could be considered surreal art or hip by some, it just confused me. Unlike the floor below though, the third floor was entirely empty. Having some privacy, I jumped into a bathroom. The bathroom, from what I can surmise, would have been all white had it not been illuminated in a blue light. Before I continue I want to say that I am no architect, just a person. So I finish my business in the bathroom, I unlock the door, and then I reach for the handle...the handle that isn't there. That's right, a bathroom was created without a door handle. I tried everything I could find (my shirt, my belt, bunched up paper towel) underneath the lock so I could use it as a handle, but to no use. I pounded on the door, but nobody could hear my above the music or from a floor below.  In the end I had to use the time code to activate the Time Sphere and leave.

Just Remember: Night clubs kind of suck and can suck more if you don't take a friend along...mainly because they can kick open a bathroom door that has no handle. Also, if you visit a club downtown above a pizza parlor that has a locked men's room...that was me. Good luck getting it open.

Attempting to Right a Wrong

All of time and space at my finger tips. The question becomes What do I do first? I could go back and try to get together with a lost love. I could go back and see the best concerts or meet the greatest people of all time. Instead, I chose to do something rather heroic: I went back in time to meet Taylor Swift's parents...so I could prevent her from being born.

For a while, her parents could only focus on this whole time-travel-orb thing...mostly because it isn't kosher to walk out of a time sphere ass naked. But, when they finally got settled in and I got my clothes back on and they were willing to listen to me, they were focused on how much money their daughter would make. I took a moment to play them one of the albums their daughter would record which I stole before I left. While her mother loved it, her father decided to drink heavily. If that didn't stop it, alcohol poisoning sure would.

Jumping back into the Time Sphere, I rode a few years into the future. It would seem nothing changed. The monster was still born and it cooed horrible tunes from its wretched sound hole. I saved no one from her future wretchedness.

I wanted nothing good or her. Not success. Not glory. Not happiness. It was then I realized that her music was all about how she wasn't happy with men and I decided create the perfect man for her, one that wouldn't hurt her, leading to her creating shitty music. I rode the Time Sphere head long into the future, compiling an automaton from various pieces of tech. The Mechanical Man was perfect in every way except for that it was too realistic.  When I sent him back he would go on to disappoint her over and over again until, well, I guess what I'm saying is...I created Taylor Swift.

Sorry guys.

Just Remember: We can't always get what we want. Again, I'm terribly sorry.