There was a commercial on tv tonight for that show Chuck that turned my husband into a raving lunatic so I thought I would tell you about it.
I don’t know if you’ve seen the commercial or not but it says that Chuck is a man who travels through time to save lives. My husband looked over at me said, “What if somebody really did have a time machine and he traveled back in time and picked certain people to save? That would be the way to control the world.”
I laughed and said, “All the Christians would think it was God.”
He replied with, “no, imagine the government making a time machine, we don’t know everything they do. Someone gets in the time machine, it’s like a car and you drive it and anyway they get in and they pick certain people and save their lives. It would be like me coming home and saying, “Kelli someone saved my life today, they pulled me out of the front of a fast moving bus.””
I started to wonder if my husband was smoking some wacky tobacky. “Do you really think the government can build a time machine?”
He says, “You never know. It’s not like they would tell us about it and if anyone who worked on it blabbed they’d just go back in time and kill his or her mother so that they were never born.”
I’m thinking that sounds so very cliche but to him I say, “and what would happen to you here and now? If I was standing next to you and we were both in the President’s office and he told you he was going to gill your mother and then got into his time machine and did it what would happen to the you I see standing there? Would you just disappear?”
This time he laughs, “Yes you would disappear. You would never have existed in the first place if that happened. Besides if a time machine is ever invented it would have already been done so by now and we just wouldn’t know it. Now back to what I was saying…”
I have nothing to say to that so I let him continue his tirade of total bullshit.
By this time he is standing in front of me hopping back and forth from one foot to the other and his voice gets louder as he gets more excited, “You don’t understand.
Someone gets to decide who’s saved and who’s not. Someone saved Bush. They saved Bush over me. He got picked and I didn’t. “
I’m just blinking, “uhh yea he’s the President, Obviously a whole country picked him over you.”
He says, “No, what I mean is Bush’s life was saved by someone because he’s supposed to be this good man who lives the way everyone thinks someone like him lives.”
Who knew my husband was this mind fucked? so I say, “ummm ok. The Christians would probably call him the anti-christ then.”
He sits back down, a little bit more calm, “Oooh, ooh! What if someone makes a time machine and uses it to come back and change 
the way people are. What if he makes certain people screw up who normally wouldn’t screw up and people who would screw up NOT screw up? What if someone was going to be a doctor that would in the future discover a cure for the bird flu or something but this time traveler changes it so that they became a two dollar hooker working the 9th street bridge in Modesto instead? Then what if he decides who’s worthy of saving based on what they did? What do you think the government would say then?”
I pat him on the knee, “I don’t know dear.”
He points his finger at me, “Well the first thing they’d do is say, “We’ve got to have that. Get it. They wouldn’t care who made the time machine, man, woman, child or alien and the best time for someone to come back in a time machine was in the 1920’s?
I’m really confused now, “why the ’20’s?” I ask.
He says, “Because the ’20s was on the verge of technology. It was booming but not so much that the government would want to dissect the alien. Today they would do a public dissection but in the ’20s they would just have wanted to keep it and hide it. People were into drinking and carousing. Besides it would have been a perfect time to kill off people like Hitler before they were old enough to cause any harm.”
I finally understood. My husband has been captured by aliens, taken into their ship, probed and sent back delirious. That or he’s smoking that damned wacky tobacky.
Raunchy Taters 