You may have noticed the absence of my columns the last few weeks. If you didn’t, please visit this site
, follow the instructions to build a time machine, and travel back to the last few Mondays.
Once there, check the papers, and you will find that they did not, in fact, contain a column by me. It is also imperative that you remember NOT to change anything in the past, as it could have deadly repercussions on the present and/or the future. I discovered that the hard way, and I would like to apologise to you all in advance for the events of June 6th next year (you’ll know when it happens).
The editors of HT kindly ran an explanation for my absence, stating that I could not write my column as I was travelling. What they did not mention (because they did not know) was that I was TIME travelling. It started out innocuously enough; I had misplaced my keys, and naturally, the only way to find them was to construct a time machine to travel back to the last time I had them, spy on my past self, and observe where I’d left them. Which I set out to do.
I completed the machine in record time (by travelling back in time once I’d completed it to help my past self any time I got stuck), and soon I was set to travel back to complete my initial mission: find my keys. Having coated myself in petroleum jelly (time travel is a dangerous business, you have to take precautions), I was just about to activate the device when a butterfly happened to land on the calibration dial, altering the settings! This was kind of an ironic twist on the whole ‘butterfly effect’ thing in that it actually involved a butterfly, but I didn’t have the time to appreciate the irony (ironic, since I was in a time machine… but I’m digressing) because the next thing I knew, I found myself standing… in exactly the same spot as before, only several million years earlier.
How did I know? Well, I knew I was in the same spot because it’s a time machine, not a time-space machine (duh), so it only moves you through time, OBVIOUSLY. As for the several million years bit, I figured that out because I was standing shin-deep in a pile of dinosaur dung. (Side note, if anyone knows how to get the smell of dinosaur dung out of jeans, please write to me at the email address provided. I’ve tried everything, with no luck yet.)
The story of my escape from the past to get back to the future (that actually sounds like a great title for a movie… must remember that) is a thrilling one, and I shall narrate it to you in parts in my future columns (if you’re really impatient, feel free to use your time machine to skip ahead and read them all), but for now, let me just say that I’m glad to be back. There’s no time like the present. Trust me, I’ve checked.