How to Build a Time Machine

I have been working on a new invention. It is called a "time machine." No, it is not a machine that tells you the time. That device is called a "clock."

Rather, my machine allows the user to think as though he/she/transgender exists at different coordinates in time. Perhaps it should more accurately be called a "time-transfer machine."

Please don't get hung up on the name. We can call it a "jack-off drive" for all I care about the name. Actually, a "jack-off drive" would be fairly easy to market.

So, as I was saying, my new "jack-off drive" is revolutionary, and everybody needs one. I can't go into the engineering details of the "jack-off drive" (TM), but, let's just say that it makes an otherwise lengthy commute into a beautiful, cataclysmic, ecstatic umph.

Well, now I've lost interest in whatever I was doing.

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Scotty's Fat Ass Will Require Bigger Rocket

"How cool for James "Scotty" Doohan to have his remains launched into space," I thought.

Little did I know that the plan was to launch his cremains into low orbit where they would inevitably crash back down to Earth in the mountains of New Mexico?!? Instead of drifing off into the eternity of space, Scotty and 200 other people's ashes were lost in the mountains for several weeks. What is so great about that? I got lost in the mountains of New Mexico when I was still alive.

On second thought, this would be a great premise for a new reality series - "Ashes, Ashes, We All Fall Down."

Scary

In the comment forum below, enter the scariest phrase you can compose. Not clever or meant to be humorous, these are words that, if you ever uttered them, would most disturb you.

We need this information.

Pineapple Abducted!

After having recently solved the space-time hoop question put to her by OneEar, Ms. Pineapple has been selected for higher orders of business by Earth's closest galactic neighbors who have been frustrated until now at the lack of substrate they have been observing in WalMart. It was the Cheerleader Advisor's lack of response to OneEar's inane proposition that first showed up on the observer's radar screen. Expecting a smart-alecky remark from someone with her particular background and social restraints, the Neighbors were intrigued by the silent contemplation. Following this, much to the Neighbor's delight, Pineapple posted a simple mathematical explanation as to why repetitive singularities are impossible within the same material subset (i.e., "our" universe). She also posted the axiom that singularities occur, repeat and are in constant flux, but not within the same dimensional realities. That also, incidentally, explains the single lost sock after the dryer has completed its cycle.
Following Pineapple's posting, the Neighbors deftly manipulated the space-time continuum such that the posting was erased three seconds before it was uploaded, took her out for dinner and drinks, then brought her back to their place where they made mad, passionate love. She earned it, for God's sake. They then eliminated all traces of her on the Internet, along with all of her clothes, and suspended her naked, in a post-orgasmic slumber, over the family farm of that good-looking kid in high-school who said "no" to her invitation to the Sadie Hawkins Dance.

Time/space Infinity Hoop

A while back, K "the Growler" 9 deposited the interesting posit that the Big Bang and the Big Rupture may be the same event!?!

As promised, I asked Ms. Pineapple about the validity of this proposition. I think we may have stumped her.

UPDATE:

OneEar on: 10/26/2006 5:02:08 PM Message:

is it possible/likely that all is a hoop which begins/ends at the same moment of
infinite singularity?

Reply author: CheerCoachBPW Replied on: 11/18/2006 8:40:54 PM Message:

I feel your pain! My cheerleaders started out the same way. My assistant coach and I finally had to sit them down and tell them that one more issue arises we will collect their uniforms! Its hard if you coach pop warner because of the backlash from parents, but the bottom line is...they are there to represent their town! If they can't behave then they have no right to wear the uniform. Or another way to look at it...They won't be able to argue and bicker while doing push-ups! hahahaha. Its works like a charm!

FU Elders will meet over the next several years to decipher exactly what this means relative to the search for a "Grand" Unified Theory and for your soul.

WIP - RIP

As you know, I have been spending a lot of time thinking about the impending Rupture. But how does one prepare for the end of time/space? I’ve been studying up on quotations from all of the major religions in preparation for “the final exam.” I’ve also begun memorizing the details of some of my favorite breasts in case I need to conjure up the appropriate image in the bodiless afterlife.

Then it occurred to me: If everyone is destroyed in the Rupture, who in the Hell is going to write my obituary?!? So, I set about working on it. Obviously, it is a work-in-progress, but I've still got some time.

A celebration of the life of P. Daugel Boone, IV will be held the day after the Rupture at the sunken gardens. Mr. Boone died as a result of the end of the universe, and he is survived by nobody. There will be an open bar from 2pm until closing with no drink limits. Appetizers will include sloppy bruschetta, deviled eggs, sloppy slop con Kay’s soul, sloppy slop con carnis, sloppy slop con lechers, meat balls, goat balls, cheese balls, cheese dip, cheese logs, cheese nuggets, cheese puffs, cheesy bacon bites, cheesy potato poppers, cheesy jalapeno poppers, cheese curds, and gelatin.

Mr. Boone was born an infant suited to this world, and, in many ways, he remained that way. He was educated both in school and out and later learned lots of things otherwise. He spent numerous years in the study of difficult concepts, many of which previously were unstudied.

Mr. Boone’s first brush with fame arose from his ground-breaking work performing under the stage name “Fluffy” with the nouveaux-art-folk-noise-rock band, the Clown Squad. Boone’s musical talents were not restricted to his unique ability to forget where he was or what he was doing. “Fluffy” did not subscribe to rudimentary concepts of musical theory or practice. His special style could challenge even the most accomplished players to scratch their heads and wonder, “Does he have any idea how to play any instrument?”

Boone later wrote many award-winning books including the now famous, award-winning "Gynecological Analysis of the Enron Collapse," the seminal "How to Give Yourself Awards for Your Writing," and the award-winning career guide, "What Color is Your Pair of Shoes - Career Advice for a New Millenium From an Award-Winning Award Winner."

Of course, Boone was best known as one of the founding members and chief spokesman of the revolutionary religious institution which sucessfully synthesized all former religions and rendered them unneccessary - the First Unichurck. He also was the Chosen One. Memorial donations may be made to: First Unichurck c/o oneear.blogspot.com

Clowns in High Places

Dateline - Alameda, CA. AP reports that a Clown is running for the city's highest public office.

Usually, I don't support anything that happens West of the incontinental divide. But, in this case, I urge the Churck's full endorsement of the candidacy of whatever his name is, you know, the clown.

Speaking of Berkeley, I see that the Nobel Prize in Physics was awarded to the guys that did the Cobe project and thereby provided strong evidence of the "Big Bang." They looked for and found cosmic microwave radiation variations, so that pretty much ends that discussion. Now, we just have to figure out how Rusty caused the Big Bang.

The Sick Scents - Not Quite Right

Something is not quite right.

You didn't include a scene where time stops, the universe implodes into a singularity, and everyone gets judged. Please repair this omission. (I realize it will pose some technical challenges, but let Rusty deal with that).






For a historical retrospective, see:

http://oneear.blogspot.com/2005/11/movie-script.html
http://oneear.blogspot.com/2005/11/sick-scents-rewrite.html