If I could invent anything, it would definitely be time-control socks. I’ve given this some thought. No such thing, you say? Ridiculous. A hundred years ago, Christopher Columbus said the earth was flat. Now look where we are. One democratic nation, united under cheeseburgers and Lee Greenwood’s I’m Proud to Be an American. If everyone jumped off a cliff, would you? Exactly. Forge your own path. Seize the day.
Now that I’ve broken you down with my argument, I need to explain the idea of the continuum altering footwear. Somewhere, somehow, someone has invented these socks, and it’s up to me to find them. It’s my destiny.
Think of every time-traveling entertainment you’ve ever seen or read. The Time Machine. Back to the Future. Click. The Time Traveler’s Wife. Ocarina of Time. Titanic. Goldmember. These socks would be better than all of those.
With these socks, I could never fail. I just rewind back to a time right before I failed. So I give my girlfriend a gift and she doesn’t like it? Zip. What gift? Take the sandwich out of the box, return it, and try another gift. Or just rewind to before I bought the sandwich.
Missed a shot in basketball? Zip. No I didn’t. Zip, it’s the sound the socks make when they take me through the time portal wormhole paradox thing. I could literally be in the NBA.
Plagiarism? You better believe it; I’d plagiarize everything, publishing it the moment before the original author committed the idea to paper. If you thought tweens were crazy for The Hunger Games and Twilight and There Will Be Blood, imagine what they’d do if I wrote all of them.
I’d also steal every idea for technology. Someone famous once said “Weaving in and out of time is war,” a concept I fully believe in. Want credit for the work you did? Maybe you should have born in another generation not affected by my socks. My socks own you.
I’d need to make sure my aging is intertwined with the socks, to avoid aging myself while hopskipping through the years. Can’t go too old, or I risk my body failing; also can’t go too young, because what do I do as a baby? Babies don’t wear socks. That’s crazy.
People who have wronged me in my life should beware. Gave me a wedgie in second grade? Have fun when the IRS seizes all of your earthly assets. Laughed at my realization in second grade that words are, in fact, made of letters? Those unicorn tattoos I littered your face with when you were sleeping really suit you. Cheated me in monopoly? Hope you like base jumping with no parachute. How will I accomplish these feats of revenge? I’ve got two words for you: Time traveling socks. Bitch. Four words.
“But,” you argue, “you could do so many positive things in the world.” Yeah? So could you. I don’t see you volunteering for Blue Cross Blue Shield. Just because I have these special foot warmers, I have to be bothered with every ailment facing mankind? I’m not god, people. I’m a normal human being. I have flaws, okay? You’ve heard the phrase “With great power comes great responsibility?” I prefer the phrase “With great power comes whatever level of responsibility that person chooses, and that goes for people with little to no power as well.”
In fact, this isn’t a callout to me. This is actually a callout to you. Just because you can’t control time doesn’t mean you can’t conserve energy by shutting off the lights in your house. Try putting a brick in your toilet tank to save water. Or adhere to the three R’s, Recycle, Reuse, Respect. All the world needs is a little respect. People are so selfish sometimes.