Grumpyspacekid - Where Did You Come From And What Do You Want?

Stray Child sky, clouds

more art by straychild

.the truth is out there

Pretty much my childhood in a nutshell.

*slides obama a $5 bill* 

so

Proof of Time Travel

Could time travel exist? Some people believe so. Look at these images and see what you think.

1. The Chinese Swiss Watch. Back in 2008, a 400 year old tomb was opened. Archaeologists were shocked to discover this small watch among the artifacts. The back of the watch is engraved with the word “Swiss”. They have no explanation of how this modern watch came to be in an unopened 400 year old tomb.

2. Charlie Chaplin Cell Phone. Viewers watching the extras section of the 1928 Charlie Chaplin film “The Circus” noted this person seemed to be talking on a cell phone. Others have claimed it was an ear trumpet, a horned device used to help those who were hard of hearing to hear. If that’s true, skeptics argue, who would she be talking to? Why is she laughing and talking if no one is there to hear but herself?

3. 1940s Hipster. This picture was taken at a small opening event in 1941.Time travel enthusiasts were quick to point out how this man stood out. He appears to be wearing a hooded sweatshirt and printed t-shirt, and holding a modern camera.

4. Rudolph Fentz. Rudolph apparently vanished without a trace in 1876. That alone wouldn’t be enough to constitute time travel, except that he turned up again…in the 1950s. Fentz allegedly materialized in a New York street, where he was struck by a car and died. Police were baffled as to what happened, especially when they found his pockets to only hold currency from the 1800s.

5. The Man in the Book. A couple was perusing an old book store when they happened across a book with this photograph included. It shows a group from 1917, but this man sticks out. His hair is disheveled and his clothing doesn’t fit in with the time period. Also note how the man beside him his staring at him, as though he too is aware of the strangeness.

I think we could learn a lot from the robots we’re building. Imagine talking to a machine fitted with an artificial intelligence that can communicate with us. We’d ask so many questions, just because we hope for something new so badly.

So we’d go to the robot and ask, “What’s your purpose?”

The robot would make a little beep or whatever noise it chooses to signify processing of data. “My purpose is whatever you programmed into me,” it would say.

And we’d be disappointed. Because that’s not new. “Oh.” Already thinking about ways to change the robot, we mutter to ourselves: “Aren’t you lucky, knowing exactly what you’re meant to do.”

The robot hears that, of course. Maybe it would laugh, maybe not, but it would certainly reach for us in its own way of soothing. And if we’d listen closely, I’m sure we’d hear pain in its emotional voice.

“Aren’t you lucky, choosing exactly what you want to do?”

Humans in spaaaaace

Had this thought last night as I lay falling asleep. We have all these space-exploration-ensemble shows with a bunch of aliens each of which has some sort of super-human power, more or less. And humans are always given ~leadership~ as their special power. The ability to bring people together, to organize shit, and I always thought, like…what a shitty power. What a shitty colonial “you were a mess until we came in and saved you” power. Drives me nuts. Seems like if an alien species builds a got-damn ship that can fly through got-damn space they probably have their shit together, right? At least somewhat?

So then I figure, what is humanity got to contribute to all these super-beings? We’re just nonsense reckless critters careening through space. Seems like we’d be more trouble than we’re worth.

But what if…I mean, what if that’s us. We’re the universe’s huckleberries. We’ll run headlong into danger, and we’ll *laugh*. And what if…what if we survive and a weirdly abnormally high rate. Like any alien with two bits of math can put together that we should have wiped ourselves out a long time ago with the first set of “hold my beer, and watch this.” So what the shit, how are we still banging around the universe building shit and flying off solar ramps into the sun while doing some spaceship equivalent of an ollie while crushing beer cans on our forehead. Why. Why do we exist.

And then it hits me. We survive. We’re super good at it. Uncannily good at it. So much so that we…I mean, we actually bend probability in our favor. It’s absurd. And it totally falls flat if you actually tell us this (“Never tell me the odds,” said Solo, knowing full well that knowing the odds kills a human’s chances of survival).

So there we are. Careening around the universe. Joining alien crews because they know that with a human on board, especially a cocky human in some kind of leadership position, can warp probability to stretch success in their favor. And they can never ever tell us this. So instead they just pat our heads and tell us we’re just so good at ~leadership~ and that’s what makes humans special

But really…we’re just a bunch of space dinguses.