Where's my jetpack?
Ridiculous. It's the 21st Century and we're still moving about like gorillas, feet peddling the ground in a manner similar to our shrew-like remote ancestors. Mitch: get working on that little problem, will you? There's a good chap. What's that? Ummmm ... I believe that would be a physical impossibility. Got any other suggestions?
Like many of his frothy colleagues, our mad science advisor Mitch Macaphee doesn't take direction real well. I've rambled on more than a few times in this blog about how sensitive he is, so I probably shouldn't bait him with idle requests about revolutionizing human locomotion or swapping meiosis with mitosis. The man's busy, god damn it! He cranks out inventions like brother Matt puts out songs. And when I say "like", I don't mean exactly like it. Mitch's battles are fought in the laboratory, not the prize ring ... I mean, not the wildlife sanctuary. But I digress.
I don't know how my mind gets stuck on these issues. Maybe it's living in this abandoned mill for the better part of twenty years. After a decade or two, you start rattling around like bird shot in an oil drum. Your mind gets going, then you trudge around the mill, singing dirges. Next thing you know, you're contemplating your very footsteps. Then it hits you - This is the twenty first century? Where the fuck is my jetpack? John Robinson had one back in fictional 1997! This is real-ass 2017 and I'm still stomping around like an ape. How is that fair?
Sure, you might say I have a distorted view of the future; that I'm stuck in a 1966 notion of what 1987 should look like. Be that as it may, jet packs would be a real step up from our current modes of transportation. And not any more impractical than some of the suggestions I've heard bandied about lately, like ski-resort type gondolas carrying people between a post-industrial mill town and what's breezily described as a "harbor" that's really just a wide spot in the Barge Canal. And yes, I know that jet packs have their challenges - all back-mounted rocket boosters do. But where would be without challenges, right? Where?
You're right. I've been bumping around this mill waaaaay too long.
Like many of his frothy colleagues, our mad science advisor Mitch Macaphee doesn't take direction real well. I've rambled on more than a few times in this blog about how sensitive he is, so I probably shouldn't bait him with idle requests about revolutionizing human locomotion or swapping meiosis with mitosis. The man's busy, god damn it! He cranks out inventions like brother Matt puts out songs. And when I say "like", I don't mean exactly like it. Mitch's battles are fought in the laboratory, not the prize ring ... I mean, not the wildlife sanctuary. But I digress.
I don't know how my mind gets stuck on these issues. Maybe it's living in this abandoned mill for the better part of twenty years. After a decade or two, you start rattling around like bird shot in an oil drum. Your mind gets going, then you trudge around the mill, singing dirges. Next thing you know, you're contemplating your very footsteps. Then it hits you - This is the twenty first century? Where the fuck is my jetpack? John Robinson had one back in fictional 1997! This is real-ass 2017 and I'm still stomping around like an ape. How is that fair?
Sure, you might say I have a distorted view of the future; that I'm stuck in a 1966 notion of what 1987 should look like. Be that as it may, jet packs would be a real step up from our current modes of transportation. And not any more impractical than some of the suggestions I've heard bandied about lately, like ski-resort type gondolas carrying people between a post-industrial mill town and what's breezily described as a "harbor" that's really just a wide spot in the Barge Canal. And yes, I know that jet packs have their challenges - all back-mounted rocket boosters do. But where would be without challenges, right? Where?
You're right. I've been bumping around this mill waaaaay too long.
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