One of the saddest consequences following humanity's new ability to time travel was the near-fatal blow to its imagination. Once the future was unveiled, there was no reason to guess what might happen. Everyone who wanted to could know the answer to almost every question they ever had--who will I marry? How will I die? What was the name of that show that used to come on ABC on Tuesday nights when I was 6, but only ran for, like, three weeks?
Of course, there's always the option to return to the past to change the future--that's why we're here, remember? We don't like the robotons killing people like they do, and this website is supposed to keep that from happening. But then, you change the past to achieve a certain outcome in the future, and you then know
that outcome, too. You can't escape. Plus, the initial flurry of people trying to do that created conflicts, and nobody really got what they wanted. So, the practice is limited to scientists, post-government officials (like us), and Dick Clark.
This is the great trade-off of achieving time travel. There is no future in the future. No more science-fiction novels or movies. No more cutting-edge technology. In regaining the link to our collective past in its truest sense, we lost our dreams of what might be around the next corner.
But just so we don't end this transmission on such a sour tone, it is worth noting that in 2563, rogue scientist Henrietta Grutz went all the way back to 1365 BC and, making one change (she never revealed what), came back to her own time to find everyone dressed in clown suits. She was then found guilty of improper use of chronology, and was pied until dead.
