"I Am Smart!"
by Steve Matthews


         As you may already know, I have been attempting to build a time machine for a couple of months now. This attempt has stirred up much attention, including ethical concerns over my eventual ruling of all known life, legal debates from two of my close friends, and a rather scary piece of hate mail from the Pope, apparently worried over implications on abortion mentioned by one of my aforementioned friends.


         I've spent much time pondering the possible ways to create a time machine, from convoluted quantum theories on the conservation of randomness to simply going to sleep. After extensive summertime study of the latter, I've come to the conclusion that sleep can only be used for forwards transportation through time, and not by more than about 16 hours. As for the former, I have determined quantum theory to be nothing but a practical joke taken too far. With these options eliminated, the only possible way for a time machine to be built is through the creation of a wormhole (1). While this may sound like a simple feat, it's not. In order to have a wormhole, one needs a singularity, a point of infinite density. As you may be able to guess, points of infinite density are not easy to come by -- in fact, they have never even been observed in the known Universe (or, for that matter, in the unknown Universe). Luckily, a point of infinite density will be created if a point of super-duper-high density exists because of physics that I don't feel like explaining mainly because I don't understand them (I blame this lack of understanding chiefly on the highly technical terms found in the field). Leading scientists, unfortunately, have not been able to come even remotely close to creating a point of super-duper-high density.



         I, however, have finally discovered the steps necessary to create a point of super-duper-high density, and with it a point of infinite density, and with that a wormhole, and with that a time machine. Ironically, the idea that triggered this discovery that will change mankind's view of the universe was received through the TV (and to Bill Gates, I say HAHH!!! Maybe if you owned a TV you would have gotten the idea instead of me and you would have been able to rule the world like we all know you want to -- but no, you're too good for TV's) -- and not just through the TV, but through a commercial. No, it wasn't that bizarre one that has absolutely nothing to do with Cherry Coke and features a man on an ostrich running around terrorizing a department store but is an ad for Cherry Coke anyway. And no, it wasn't the one with the rotating purple stuffed dinosaur that has less to do with Levi's Jeans than an ostrich has to do with Cherry Coke. It was an ad for a dishwasher. While most people would view this as kind of odd, I disagree -- dishwashers have been cleaning our dishes since 1971 (2). Anyway, this was an ad for a new breed of dishwasher with a design so ingenious that you could always fit that last dish in. Always.

        


         Now, I'm no dummy -- I realized less than four years after I saw the ad that if, given a certain amount of dishes in the dishwasher, one more dish can always be fit in, then an infinite amount of dishes can be fit in the dishwasher. So what the ad I saw is essentially saying is that an infinite amount of dishes can be fit in their dishwasher. Since I didn't see any mention of the dishwasher exploding or growing to the size of a small galaxy (I even read the little white print at the bottom), I assume that the volume of the dishwasher always remains the same. This means that if I keep putting dishes into the dishwasher, a point of super-duper-high density will be reached, causing a point of infinite density to be created and with it a wormhole acting as a time machine. Thus, all that is needed to build a time machine is the aforementioned dishwasher (I think it's made by Kenmore) and a lot of dishes.


         The world is mine.



Steve Matthews goes to Harvey Mudd College in California, where he unicycles with the best of them and amazes the rest of them with his supreme juggling skills. Of course he looks like a two-bit circus act when he's standing next to the tell-tale 7-ball freshman juggler who also goes there, but that person has confined himself to his room out of modesty, so you would never see him anyway, no matter who was standing next to him, and that's that.



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