Who am I?

Do you really care? Look, I don’t want to write this either. I have stuff to do. But all the articles I’ve read about making a site like this claim “About Me” is monumentally important.

They tell me it’s make or break.  They say that if I don’t market myself correctly, my credibility is utterly shot.

I’m supposed to have a little counter on the screen, telling you I’ve visited 197 countries and am currently living as a nomad, typing articles as I glide over rural Kazakhstan in a hot air balloon.

I should be telling tales about hitchhiking across Sri Lanka, or detailing how I spent six months living among penguins on the coast of Antarctica. 

That’s how this is done, right?

Please note the sunglasses, bought from a guy on the street who was immune to my haggling skills.

Well, lying isn’t a great way to start things off, is it?  I’ll tell you what: I’ll write the truth here, but when you tell all your friends to come to this site, be sure to give them the more interesting version.  Deal?

Here’s the facts: After a moderate amount of travel and excessive picture taking, I found a DeLorean in an abandoned mine near [redacted]. All it needed was a bit of gasoline, a few banana peels and other associated garbage to power the fusion generator, and the immense span of history was mine to explore.

But keeping such a gift to myself would be selfish. At the same time, I can’t just give free trips to anyone who wants one. Such behavior would be irresponsible, and would dramatically increase the chances of contaminating the timeline — thus setting off a cascade of events that could bring about the collapse of civilization as we know it.

Time travel is a risky endeavor. Above all else, we have to blend in. That means no touching anything, and no talking to anyone. We must exist as ghosts. To give you an example of what not to do, I’m including a few pictures of me standing out as a tourist in famous locations.

Because hey, I don’t know everything. And maybe you’re just here for the Egypt travel tips, and have no desire to travel back through time. That’s fine too. 

I’ve learned much about how to blend in since this picture was taken. Stop making fun of my location-based shirts. I like them. Don’t judge. You’ll hurt my feelings. And believe it or not, this is a “candid” picture. What, did you think I posed like that on purpose? I was just walking.

But the main purpose of this site is to provide a base of knowledge before traveling into the past. The more you know, the less likely you are of causing a rupture in the fabric of the space-time continuum. 

History is full of bizarre stories and events. If we travel back to witness one and you don’t come armed with at least a basic understanding of what you’re about to see, the chances of you being stunned by something dramatically increases. 

The ultimate goal is to avoid being baffled at all costs. Baffled behavior causes blunders. That means we could return to an irradiated landscape, a world in which we were never born, or even worse: A planet that never invented ice cream. So sit back, read some bizarre tales from the past, and always remember that when I say it’s time to go back to the DeLorean, it’s time. I don’t want you getting hit by falling volcanic rocks on the outskirts of Pompeii.

If you want to figure out when it’s time to..uhh…travel through time… you’ll probably want to subscribe to the list for updates.  But you’re not riding shotgun until you’ve demonstrated a basic understanding of the past. The last person who came along got eaten by crocodiles after being shocked by the behavior of Egyptian priests. Somewhere amid the chaos, a cell phone got dropped.

I’m not entirely sure what happened, but when I came back, there was something called a “pandemic.” It certainly wasn’t happening when I’d left. Let’s not do that again, okay?