I’ve been thinking, when time travel becomes more affordable, I might move to the middle ages. I could make a good living inventing things. Nothing too radical, don’t want to be burned at the stake, no Polaroid cameras or liquid-metal fast-breeder nuclear reactors, just little things like the leap year or margarine. Or Ritz crackers, they’re not bad. Good with tomato soup.
No good. The Europeans didn’t have tomatoes until the renaissance. And even then they thought they were poisonous. “Skookum’s Cheese Flavoured Crackers, great with poison soup!” – nah, just wouldn’t sell.
“Hark there, have ye some soup.”
No good. The Europeans didn’t have tomatoes until the renaissance. And even then they thought they were poisonous. “Skookum’s Cheese Flavoured Crackers, great with poison soup!” – nah, just wouldn’t sell.
“Hark there, have ye some soup.”
“Ok sounds verily goode, hey wait yon cheese flavoured cracker foretells Lucifer’s hand in the brew. Thou woudst do me in! Thou art surely an asshole, sir. ”
It could get ugly. No better stick to inventing something innocuous. Something useful yet inconspicuous, not too likely to upset things, like rubber bands or shotguns or crystal meth. I could get that Robin Hood guy to distribute it, he has contacts with a lot of people. Just think, they’d get more done – the crusades would be a weekend road trip, the Spanish Inquisition would be drive-thru – and the more they got done back then the better off we’d be now. Lazy bastards.
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