My favorite time of year. The wind picks up. The leaves begin to fall. The firebox thingy gets turned on. And a young, dashingly handsome, tuxedo mancat's thoughts turn to.........
Yes, time travel.
My male two legger has been watching a variety of programs on the talking box thingy lately, and they all seem to have the same common theme.
Apparently, two leggers seem to have an obsession with traveling to and fro throughout time. Some believe that if they can travel "back" in time, they can correct the mistakes of their predecessors or themselves, thereby solving all the problems that affect their current lives. Others believe that if they can travel "forward" in time, they can bring back gizmo thingies that will improve their current lives. Still others believe that if they attempt either of these actions, the universe will suddenly turn into either a gigantic black hole thingy or a small jelly doughnut in the giant police station of the cosmos.
A bunch of hooey if you ask me.
Although........it does beg some pondering.
From what I have gathered, time travel in America is effected by climbing into a silver sports car and going exactly 88 miles per hour. ( or 92,500 kilometers per hour for my Canadian and New Zealander readers) In England, time travel is achieved by entering a blue phone booth thingy and talking to a doctor.
Either way, a lot of two leggers running in circles, waving their hands and yelling madly about paradox thingies is generally the result.
That being said, I have decided that perhaps time travel could be useful to me. Perhaps, even amusing.
For instance, I could travel "back" and smack Tiger Lily's mother.
I could travel "forward" and smack her progeny.
I could travel "back" and smack the primordial ooze that eventually formed squirrel thingies.
I could travel "forward" and bring "back" a computer enhanced thingy that would target the DNA stuffs that all squirrels have in common and incinerate it.
I could travel back and forth causing much chaos and mayhem. The time space continuum would be my astral catnip mousie thingy.
But, if the doomsayers are correct and the universe turns into a gigantic jelly doughnut.....
I'll blame Ivan.