Tuesday, November 13, 2012


Greeting, Self-Talkers!

As I've said before, the first thing I'd do if I had a time machine is go back to 1997 and kill George Lucas with a shovel.  But the second thing I'd do is pop back to 1985 and pay a visit to a certain shy, awkward, retiring, insular teen.



"Oh, Jesus!  Where the f#@k did you just come from?!?!  You scared the crap outta me!"

"Sorry, sorry!"

"Who...who are you?  And what the f#@k are you doing in my room?!?"

"Well, technically, it's my room, too.  Y'see, I'm actually...you."  


"Yeah, I'm you at age...um,...frrar de rass a mass."

"What's that?  I didn't catch you, you sorta trailed off there a bit."

"Forty-two!  Alright!  I'm forty-two!  I'm you at forty-two friggin' years old!"

"Oh, wow...really?  I didn't recognize you what with that shock of white hair and your vaguely pear-like shape..."

"Yes, fine, I know!  I'm workin' on it, okay?"

"So, what are you doing he...wait, is that blood?!?!"

"Oh, yeah, that's nothing.  Don't worry about it."

"Nothing?!?  Who's blood is that?!!"

"It's um...it's George Lucas's blood."

"George Lucas!?!?  What...why?!?!?"

"Well, did you notice how Return of the Jedi kinda sucked a little bit?"


"Well, in 1999 Lucas starts filming the Star Wars prequels and they end up making Jedi look like Citizen Kane."

"Whoa, really?  I didn't see Citizen Kane..."

"Oh, you will.  In 2001.  And you're gonna love the shit out of it."

"Cool.  Still, did you really hafta kill him?"

"Trust me, kid, it was for the best.  Sooooo...whatcha doin' there?  Drawing?  Writing?"

"Oh, nuthin' really.  Just workin' on something stup...Hey, wait!  If you're me then you should know what I'm doing!"

"I do know, Matlock, I'm just tryin' to make polite conversation."

"What's 'Matlock'?"

"Never mind.  It looks like you're working on some sort of D&D adventure, right?"

"Yep.  I'm gonna run my first adventure for Greg, Lawrence and Stuart this Saturday.  It's gonna be awesome!"

"Yeah, I know.  They're really gonna dig it."

"Hey, can I ask you something?"


"Are we still playing D&D when we're forty?"

"Not nearly enough, dude."

"Bummer.  So, why are you here?"

"Well, I just wanted to come back and pass on some advice.  First off, I know that books, movies, and games are cool and all, but there's a big, wide, wonderful world out there and you really need to start living in it."

"Great.  Apparently old me sounds a lot like our friggin' parents."

"Yeah, well, I hate to break it to you, pal, but they were right.  You're only young once so you really need to start enjoying it!"

"What are you talking about?"

"Yknow, get out there!  Buy some decent clothes!  Get a new pair of glasses!  Go to parties!  Get drunk and go skinny-dipping!  Start mackin' on girls, fer Chrissakes!"

"Okay, not only does old me sound a lot like our parents, he's also apparently a giant perv."
"Who...?  What...?!?  No, I'm not a perv!  I'm just sayin' that you need to take advantage of this time in your life, when you have absolutely no responsibilities!  Have some fun, for f#@k's sake!  Live a little!"

"Whatever.  The girls that I'm interested in at school don't even know that I'm alive.  Even if I could screw up the courage to talk to them I'd probably end up sounding like an idiot."

"And that's the reason why I really wanted to talk to you.  Look, you're a decent, smart, good-looking kid.  You should be happy."

"Yeah, well, it's not that easy.  Do you think I want to be nervous and depressed all of the time?"

"I know, buddy.  It ain't easy.  But if it makes you feel any better, everyone you know is dealing with the same thing.  In fact, most of them are trying to contend with a lot worse.  The only difference is that most kids have a small but persistent voice inside their head that re-assures them every day that they're gonna be okay and that things are gonna get better.  For some reason, you can't hear that voice right now, but I'm here to tell you that it's there.  You just gotta start paying attention to it."

"Hmmmm, that sounds a lot better then the inner voices that I have been listening to."

"Which brings me to my next point.  When are you gonna start thinking about your...er, our future?"

"Oh, God!  'Incoming Lecture Proximity Alert'!"

"Cripes, don't be such a friggin' dweeb!  Look, you gotta start thinkin' about what you're gonna do for the rest of your...er, our life!"
"I have no idea whatsoever.  Honestly!"

"Look, I can understand your paralysis.  The school you're going to right now sucks balls."

"Yeah, tell me about it!  The only thing they're interested in is teaching math and science!  They treat literature, creative writing, and visual art like a big joke!"

"I know.  That's why you can't wait for a teacher or a guidance councilor to help you.  You've gotta do it yourself!  Start researching schools that'll give you the accreditation to do what you really want.  Hey, what about art school?"

"I thought about it, but every time I mention it to someone they make fun of me and tell me that I'll never get a job."

"F#@k 'em!  Look, the world needs more creative people!  And you need to do something about it before you find yourself sitting in a gymnasium, writing an exam with three-hundred commerce students, most of whom'll end up working in a call center."

"What's a call center?"

"You don't want to know.  Seriously."

"Well, to be honest, what I really want to do is go to film school."

"Okay!  Great!  That's awesome!  Vancouver, Los Angeles, Toronto and New York all have great film programs..."

"Oh, no!  I'm couldn't possibly do that!"

"Why not?"

"Well...I'm scared."

"Scared?  Scared of what?"

"I'm scared of people."


"I dunno.  I guess I'm always worried about what they think of me."

"Okay, I'm gonna tell you the truth right now and I want you to take it to heart.  By the time you're forty, you won't give a damn about what other people think of you.  So, why don't you just cut to the chase and start believing that right the f#@k now!?!"

"Heh, heh."

"What?  What's so funny?"

"Nothing.  I'm just glad you stopped by."

"Yeah, me too.  Take care of yourself, okay?"

"Wait!  Before you go, I just gotta know...are we gonna be okay?  In the future I mean?"

"Yeah, buddy.  We're gonna have a great future.  Just know that, right now, you've got the power to make it even better."


Sadly, even if time machines did exist, this conversation would probably never happen.  And that has nothing to do with a temporal paradox preventing the both of us from being in the same place together at the exactly same time.

What can I say?  I was a really shy kid.

EPIC PHOTOS    Young Me Now Me is a pretty cool blog!  I'm gonna try and do one of these photos when I'm home this X-mas...

EPIC THEORY  I'm totally convinced that time travel is more feasible then "now me" successfully initiating a dialog with "young me".


A BRAVE FAILURE  If I end up doing one of these Young Me/Now Me things I hereby promise to remain fully clothed.

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