I've been trying for fucking days now, feel like I'm talking to myself or a damn brick wall. I think I may have found a way to send a message to the past by compressing it into a quark and converting that to a text file. Hilarious. The quark compression techniques were discovered in 2019 by a certain Mark Tuckerburg, apparently. But I've been working on the conversion technique in secret by myself. Anyway here goes another attempt; guess I must keep trying, I mean if what happened to me really did, anything's possible. <#%--- INIT --->?//Commencing report @ sixteen-hundred hours, O-seven-point-two-four-O seconds exactly;; 5' July/Annum 2044.
It's a Tuesday, but everyday feels the same. I should really stop being so cynical... but then, is anyone going to even read this report? And if they do, then what? It's too late. Too late. Chrissakes.
Okay. Assuming somebody received this tweetmail, I basically compressed it into a .electron format, converted that to the outdated HTML format that you guys still use and retro-chronologically tunneled it at 4.2 Ybps over 3x10^8 m/s 6g broadband to your year (2011), to the 'email' address of someone I knew back then. Confused? Of course you are. The world is on the brink of the Quantum Singularity. There is no human compassion left. Actually, there're no humans left, just the husks of what was once called man. They We're just slaves to these Plutonomist bastards like Google Conglomerated, the Brotherhood of United Nations (formerly the United Nations), Rockefeller/DuPont/Chase Investments, the Barclays Papal Commerce Foundation (the former Catholic Church), WalmartTimeWarnerScientology and just about any major corporation you can think of. Google's current slogan is "democracy is so last century". I think they should change it, though - put a spin on their original (1990's) motto: 'Don't be evil, that's our privelege.' Let's start at the beginning (or the end, depends on your POV). In late 2012 the Large Hadron Collider... collided. It wiped out half of Europe. Jesus, mind my manners. My name is Gideon Freeman, BSc (Mech. Engineering) and I love crowbars; I had a respectable collection back in New York. I was a high level commanding engineer at CERN for a side project (top-secret) of the LHC operation, which was experimentation on ultra-lightspeed communications and traversal. We mastered it. We thought we were gods. When the LHC imploded or exploded (not sure, I'm an engineer not a darn nuclear physicist... those arrogant know-it-all douchebags) the world went berserk. Riots, turmoil. Anyone within a 5000 mile radius would have simply disintegrated into carbon, water and probably about a kilogram of that gunk McDonalds used to make chicken nuggets I presume. I feel almost like a living incarnation of any random character from a sci-fi blockbuster, because I was able to escape in the nick of time. Haha... time - time, time, time. Time can be manipulated to forward something to the future, but we didn't figure out how to return anything larger than a quark. Alas, I'm stuck here, in the future. I fissioned my atomic structure and uploaded myself to the future. Without authorization from Washington. A parallel future perhaps. I don't know who I am anymore. I feel like a bundle of shit. I have no emotions, no human emotions. It's hard to explain... kinda like how a quantum particle would "feel". I avoid mirrors; they freak me out. My face has... nevermind. I found myself in the year 2026. They were expecting me. Google, that is. They left the cubicle intact because they knew my transmission was en route. They "interrogated" me. I was anally-probed. They removed a sample of my retina. Then let me free, just like that. Actually they got a self-driven car to drop me off in California. Mountview. Google HQ. I'll get into further details on just how much technology has advanced *if* this log generates an interest in that. In 2018, Google became the first corporation to run for president of the US. De Beers in South Africa followed suit. The world as you know it has changed. I'll explain. For now I'm holding thumbs, and a bunch of cables, hoping this transmission succeeds. End of report, Freeman