Priorities in Time Management, by Haji Muhammad
Travel back seventy million years and see a T-Rex gobble up a triceratops?
Would that really be fun, though? After seeing all those Jurassic movies, it would probably be an anti-climax.
Or five thousand years and find out how they really shifted those pyramid blocks?
Maybe creep up on Chapman just before he pulled the trigger on Lennon and ask him what the hell he was doing?
At some stage, I would definitely storm the office of a publishing house and tell them to say yes to any woman with J.K as initials—with a small commission, of course.
These were just random thoughts that flashed through my mind when inventing this time-machine.
The more I thought about it, the more my head hurt. I should have planned this through more carefully, engrossed as I was in its construction rather than its purpose.
A million other things flashed at once.
Stop Bruce Lee from eating that painkiller, check.
And tell him to just kick Chuck Norris’ butt for real.
Give the King a stern lecture regarding colonels, friendships and sandwiches, check. Maybe karate instructors too for good measure.
Beg Bonham and Hendrix to cut down, check.
Cancel toothbrush moustache, check.
Hmmm, should I start warning people about global warming? Punch the inventor of the smartphone? Set up a petition against eating bats?
Would people believe me, though?
How do you go back in time and convince people with just words?
That would be a question to ask Einstein when I see him. I would get the answer from the man, shake his hand for giving hope to kids who got kicked out of school, and certainly force him to get a proper haircut, preferably with an undercut, and lose the moustache, check.
Then I should write a NYT’s bestseller. Which just gave me a brilliant idea! I could memorise Lord of the Rings and a few shorter favourites, go back a few decades, get a typewriter, gatecrash Orwell at his Scottish retreat, and start typing them out.
No, that wouldn’t work; Lord of the Rings was published not long after 1984. I have to go back further still, but not before warning old George to stop smoking and get that awful cough looked into, pronto.
It would be a pain having to type those books, though. I think I would rather just find a sixties music producer and sing Billie Jean whilst walking backwards.
Now I remember why I built this damn thing.
Go back ten years and tell my older brother I love him, double check.
Haji Muhammad lives with his family in North Dublin. He loves writing, ancient history, martial arts and 70’s music.
