"Life can only be understood backwards; but it must be lived forwards."
-Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
The notion of testing the hands of time has always captured man's imagination and continues to pervade science fiction. In H.G. Wells' The Time Machine, this idea takes center stage. Members of Generation Hate might point to the Back to the Future or Bill and Ted movies. By way of time dilation and other related phenomena, humans hold a better opportunity in stepping forth as opposed to stumbling rearward. The day, however, that man conceives and employs a contraption capable of meeting all physical requirements forspacetime travel, he will literally launch into the future. Here is the supreme example of defeating the failures of what was with the rational hopes of working towards what is to come.
Before discussing the possibilities of pulling the strings of time in order to leap into tomorrow, let me further explain why a plan to retrace yesterday represents of course a scientific infeasibility, but also a philosophically irrational conception. While it is psychologically healthy to reflect on the past and academically proper to study history, to strive to actually backpedal through the ages would ironically diminish any endeavors to construct and utilize a viable, one-way machine.
To explore the Mesozoic Era and before in "real time" or to pick "the best of times" over the "worst of times" in mankind's history would be a futile attempt. The existence of the universe -and man's position in it- is far too extensive to just skip through the chapters to find, mix and mash, and live through the "juicy bits" of record. There is no room to try to realize in natural life an episode concerning the fore-time from the television series Quantum Leap. Dreams, therefore, of passing a Phillies Blunt to Shakespeare on a 1973 flight to
aboard Playboy Enterprise's DC-9-32 are out the window. Also, you can forget
about snorting lines of Freud's nose candy with Joan of Arc in Julius Caesar's New York . Troi "Star" Torain in his book Objective Hate,
has stated that while "man is brilliant at times, he is a fungus
nonetheless." For that reason, to try to undo what was done or to right
all the wrongs would be a fruitless effort as well. Wormholes and other
theories suggest sending humans back. Still, no man can practically traverse
backwards to reverse, correct, and change the events which lead to the dusty
savagery of slavery, the bloody tradition of war, and the debilitating spread
of disease and famine, to name just a few evils. (Any of these atrocities could
be ascribed to the crippling and dastardly displays of collectivism, altruism,
and mysticism.) Rome
When a religious movement of a given era fails to reign over the masses, through nomenclature, exceptional men preserve the ghostly monikers and transform them into innovations to serve their self-interests. For instance, men inspired by a favorite deity have titled months, days of the week, planets, space programs, an athletic shoes company, and even a certain Harlem theater just to list a few. Worshippers of old sacrificed humans, animals and other possessions in the name of a preferred god or goddess. Sadly, those who have perished would never know that the name of the divinity to which they probably surrendered their highest values would be used to sell sneakers.
In modern times, the idea of a messiah in Jesus of Nazareth has gripped the minds of the populace. People have allowed themselves to lift praises to someone who Star says lived as "probably nothing more than a beautiful poet." What's worse is the pile of corpses that continues to stack ever higher in the name of the Ultimate Hater.
To quell the raging forces of darkness, disaster, and reversion, a rational option might be to use this principle of naming a succeeding product of man’s efforts after a previous "holy being." Some of the most "powerful" spirits have eventually lost any potential to be reverenced. Men and women therefore might want to apply such a practice to the poster boy of today's voodoo realm. The acknowledgement of Jesus' birth as noted in the Julian and Gregorian calendars is insufficient. A mission to the future signifies the occasion to transform a name which might suggest teachings and legends into one that calls to mind achievement and prosperity.
A physically sufficient device for spacetime travel will drive mankind forward through phases never experienced. The craft designed for that journey as well as the corresponding mission ought to be called Jesus 1. Again, any attempts to settle a past debt or trek to some bygone eon to see up close how a “live” pterodactyl flew are out of the question. To occasionally ponder, though, about returning to antiquity with plans to offer reason to the mystics, would soothe the mind during the trip.