That’s practically what happened with Siegfrieda (my cat) and me.
Long story short: a stray hid herself in my garage. She was beaten, bleeding and pregnant, so I rushed her to the vet. “I don’t want another pet, we’re going to fix her up and find her a new home.” Seven years later, she’s still here.
If he didn’t exist, then he wouldn’t be able to tell himself anything, which violates causality.
The only thing you can say to your younger self is the same thing that was previously said to your younger self by your older self. Although then you’d have the issue of where did the information come from.
That’s what I think time travel would truly be like. Yes you can travel back and time and change the past but when you go back to your present nothing would have changed.
Because once you change the past you start a separate timeline.
It gets really complex when your time traveling triggers an infinite time loop that you personally never experienced.
Example: You go back in time to warn yourself about a coming war or disaster, but you get interrupted before you can finish, so your other self panics and disaster proofs everything, unwittingly preventing the disaster. When the “war or disaster” never happens, you feel silly and stressed, so you go back in time to tell yourself not to worry so much.
You’d have the original timeline where you experienced the disaster, another one where you were warned by your previous self and didn’t experience it, and a third one where you were told by your future self not to worry about it and experienced it. If you kept this up you’d create infinite timelines unless Loki culled them or something.
With a branching timelines theory you don’t create loops you create cascades. Since you can’t make changes to an existing timeline you create a new timeline every time you go back. You would end up spawning an infinite number of timelines.
The comic follows Back to the Future time travel rules, which are weird. It’s generally pretty consistent, aside from a bit with Biff, but overall it’s a big ball of wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey… stuff.
It's washing machines and dryers that find socks delicious.
... which is less of a joke than you'd think. Small items can get partially forced between the rubber seal and the drum and then when the drum rotates, the item is slurped outside like a strand of spaghetti.
Also sometimes identical-looking socks that get paired together by the manufacturers eventually drift in appearance because they were from separate dye batches, leaving the owner with a pair of odd socks.
The other other explanation is the sock gnomes. We don't talk about the sock gnomes.
Reflexolog sounds like a prescription drug name I see on tv commercials. Maybe for like constipation or something. And they could show slow motion clips of logs flowing down a stream or something.
comicstrips
Hot
This magazine is from a federated server and may be incomplete. Browse more on the original instance.