Topic 55: Time Machine
You have a time machine but you are not allowed to change your past, so what time period do you go to and why?
If anyone ever decodes this journal, it will probably surprise him - or her, but as the most likely candidate is Marshall Flinkman, I shall go with the masculine term, shall I? - that the answer to this question lies not in a trip to the Renaissance and Milo Rambaldi. There is a rather obvious reason: any encounter with Rambaldi, no matter how it would turn out, would irrevocably alter my past, something which is precluded in the condition of this little mind game.
No, if there was a time machine at my disposal - and there might be some day; he has invented so many other things not deemed possible by the rest of the world, so why not this? - I would not visit any of the various periods of history that have always intrigued me, either. I would venture into the future. It is the possibility to escape the limits of one's life, the last mystery, the very thing we aim to shape and form by our every day actions, in large or small measure; it was the last justification which remains for our deeds.
It is the unknown. And in the end, the unknown, the mystery, has been the one thing which remains.
If anyone ever decodes this journal, it will probably surprise him - or her, but as the most likely candidate is Marshall Flinkman, I shall go with the masculine term, shall I? - that the answer to this question lies not in a trip to the Renaissance and Milo Rambaldi. There is a rather obvious reason: any encounter with Rambaldi, no matter how it would turn out, would irrevocably alter my past, something which is precluded in the condition of this little mind game.
No, if there was a time machine at my disposal - and there might be some day; he has invented so many other things not deemed possible by the rest of the world, so why not this? - I would not visit any of the various periods of history that have always intrigued me, either. I would venture into the future. It is the possibility to escape the limits of one's life, the last mystery, the very thing we aim to shape and form by our every day actions, in large or small measure; it was the last justification which remains for our deeds.
It is the unknown. And in the end, the unknown, the mystery, has been the one thing which remains.