After about 4 months of invisible posts from me, I bet your wondering “she must have some sort of excuse - some sort of anecdote to explain her nonexistence.” Perhaps you were wondering “maybe she had some rare and unique life-threatening disease that prohibits her to post?” or “perhaps her fingers have fallen off due to a freak-gasoline fight accident, making typing an arduous chore?”
After a bout 15 minutes of dubious chin scratching and hard-hitting pondering, I have come up with an exceedingly plausible excuse. Something so brilliant, so awe inspiring that it is sure to invoke pity in the pityless:
Writing block coma.
Yep. Writing block coma. The one disease that keeps JK Rowling herself up late at night. The one and only illness that scares the wits out of Stephen King (which has got to mean something).
But fret not! I have recovered! And to further emphasize my sorryness, I’m releasing what I believe to be my most powerful theory yet. A theory I have concocted for over a year and a half now. A theory so powerful, yet so confusing that I have discussed it with people who do Science degrees at Melbourne University and not even THEY have answers for it!
Now if I start talking about incredibly confusing science mumbo jumbo, bare with me.
Hold onto your braincells blogspotarians, for this one is a doosey!
Okay. Suppose you travel back in time, right? I don’t know how you would come across such a scientific phenomenon. Perhaps you accidentally walked into a wormhole that has surreptitiously appeared in your bedroom. Perhaps you woke up one day and found a big metal machine in your room and you decided to do a ‘Donnie Darko’ and jump right in. Take your pick.
Irregardless, you end up walking out of your time machine or wormhole into the year 1860. You know it is 1860 because before opening your eyes to such an ancient world, some misguided, young scalliwag who's doing a papermill ends up hitting your face with todays newspaper (dated 4th of December, 1860). Annoyed and frustrated, you end up chasing the paper boy. But although this paper boy SEEMS misguided and innocent, he really isn’t. In fact, he turns his bike around and starts throwing knives and sharp newspapers into your general direction. Now in fear and self defense, you end up killing this paper boy. Either his sharp newspapers were pissing you off THAT much, it was pure accident or you’re just born a cold-blooded murderer. Take your pick.
ANYWAY! Later, you end up discovering that the boy you have just killed was your great great great great (not sure how many ‘greats’ to insert here but you get my drift) grandfather. The question is this my fellow blogspotarians: would this be possible?
Considering that you have just killed a descendent of yours who (considering his youth) had not met your great great great great grandmother yet and considering they had not... urmm... How do I say this in a pg rated blog... ‘Windex the windows’ if you will, your family would not have been existing and henceforth, YOU shouldn’t be existing.
So what happens: as soon as you kill the paperboy, do you just vanish into thin air because you’re not meant to exist? Or not? Because how did your great great great great grandfather die then? Your future form killed her.
And how did you travel back in time in the first place if this actually happened?
If your brains have now turned into a big thick sludge of confusion, then the aim of this blog is complete. May you live peacefully and prosper.
The Enigma.
