The Coming of the Martians.

 It is the year 1895.

There is no television, and Auguste and Louis Lumière have only just shown their first moving picture in Paris.   Science fiction does not exist - it does not even have a name. Jules Verne has published his Voyages Extraordinaires, but ultimately they are just that, extraordinary travels, and he bristles at the suggestion that his tales are based on anything but the facts of science.

And yet, a young English writer named Herbert George Wells was able to sit in his study in the town of Woking and create the following astonishing passage about an alien war machine, part of an invasion from Mars:

And this Thing I saw! How can I describe it?  A monstrous tripod, higher than many houses, striding over the young pine trees, and smashing them aside in its career; a walking engine of glittering metal, striding now across the heather; articulated ropes of steel dangling from it, and the clattering tumult of its passage mingling with the riot of the thunder. A flash, and it came out vividly, heeling over one way with two feet in the air, to vanish and reappear almost instantly as it seemed, with the next flash, a hundred yards nearer. Can you imagine a milking stool tilted and bowled violently along the ground? That was the impression those instant flashes gave. But instead of a milking stool imagine it a great body of machinery on a tripod stand.

Seen nearer, the Thing was incredibly strange, for it was no mere insensate machine driving on its way. Machine it was, with a ringing metallic pace, and long, flexible, glittering tentacles (one of which gripped a young pine tree) swinging and rattling about its strange body. It picked its road as it went striding along, and the brazen hood that surmounted it moved to and fro with the inevitable suggestion of a head looking about. Behind the main body was a huge mass of white metal like a gigantic fisherman’s basket, and puffs of green smoke squirted out from the joints of the limbs as the monster swept by me. And in an instant it was gone.

The modern reader has a wide range of sources to draw upon in their interpretation of the Martian tripods:  Transformers movies and cartoons, Japanese animation, the various Imperial Walkers from Star Wars, and so on - a plethora of giant machines, metallically marching to battle. The creative leap performed by H.G. Wells in The War of the Worlds is unaided by any of those influences, and is all the more amazing because of that, especially when you consider that his audience could only be reached by comparing the Martian tripod to a milking stool.

 - Sid

A Practical Guide to Changing History With A Time Machine - Or Not.

 Amy: In a world where rhinoceroses are domesticated pets, who win the Second World War?

Sheldon: Uganda.

Amy: Defend.

Sheldon:  Kenya rises to power on the export of rhinoceroses.  A Central African power block is formed, colonizing North Africa and Europe. When war breaks out, no one can afford the luxury of a rhino. Kenya withers, Uganda triumphs.

Amy:  Correct. My turn.

The Zazzy Substitution, The Big Bang Theory.

Yesterday I received an e-mail from my friend Donovan, who is also The Infinite Revolution's Science Correspondent*, congratulating me on my discovery of a time machine and asking the following question:

"What are you going to change first?"

This is a very serious question, and one which requires a lot of forethought before rushing into anything.

I think that you would want to be cautious making big changes to history.  It's all very well and good to decide to go back in time and kill Hitler, but what are the practical aspects of attempting to alter the course of events in such a fashion?

First, what I have here is a time machine, not a space machine**. Whereas Vancouver is a great place to live, not a lot of the pivotal events that have defined our world have taken place here.  So, step one, relocate to central Berlin. Obviously a little research is required here in order to determine the exact location.

Actually, a lot of research is required here. I probably want to kill Hitler before his rise to power - killing Hitler after, say, the Battle of Dunkirk in 1940 might well be too late in the historical process to achieve sufficient change.  In fact, that might be a horrible mistake. For all I know, killing Hitler in 1940 would lead to Germany winning the war in Europe, as Goering or Himmler took the reins of power and decided not to invade Russia. 

So, we'll be going to Germany to kill Hitler when he's...20?  At that point in time, the young Adolf was an unemployed painter living in a homeless shelter in Vienna. No guards, no soldiers, no security, perfect, done.  All I have to do is sneak a functioning time machine through the various airport security and customs inspections, fly to Vienna, find the correct address, and hit the button.

Then, with no grasp of the German language outside of "yes", "no", "hello", and "one big beer, please" ***, I locate Hitler, find a weapon of some sort, and kill him.  And then I press the RETURN button pretty damn fast, because there's a very good chance that any witnesses to my crime will attempt to detain me for the authorities - after all, I've just killed a homeless young artist for no apparent reason. If I don't get away, well, it may be worth the sacrifice of my life in order to end Hitler's, thereby preventing World War II and the Holocaust, and saving millions and millions of lives.

Or at least that's what I hope is going to happen. Science fiction is full of examples of people trying to change one part of history in order to achieve a specific goal and not succeeding:  killing Hitler, giving the Spartans M-16s at the battle of Thermopylae, sinking Christopher Columbus' ships before they return to Europe, and so on. The joke in the opening quotation from The Big Bang Theory is that it would be impossible to predict the effects of such a massive change.

And that's really why I want to get away and return to the present:  to confirm that I've created a better world by my actions. There's a sobering moment in the Doctor Who 50th Anniversary Episode where the War Doctor speculates that the complete destruction of his home world and its people may be necessary in order to produce the Doctor that he sees before him, the Doctor who has saved countless other worlds to atone for his actions.  Perhaps our world needed to experience the horrors of World War II to produce a more compassionate and concerned society - but how terrible to think that all of those deaths were somehow a requirement in order to be where we are today! 

Ultimately, this seems far too great a responsibility for a bald 52 year old Canadian science fiction fan.  So, I'm very sorry, Donovan, but I'm going to to stick with the original plan for just jumping back two weeks with the winning Lotto 649 numbers - that, and maybe seeing the Beatles' live performance in Vancouver in 1964.

 - Sid

* By the way, Donovan, it's been a while since we've gotten a science update.  Don't worry about it, I know it's a busy time for you right now.

** Please note that the Doctor's time travel device, the TARDIS, travels through Time And Relative Dimension In Space.  Obviously the BBC put some thought into this fifty years ago.

*** Jawohl, nein, guten tag, and ein gross Bier, bitte.  I have other bits and pieces, but that's the bulk of it. I know that danke is thank you, now that I think about it.

Well, that was a little naïve of me.

No, seriously, when I clicked on the link that said "Anne Hathaway Flash" I honestly thought that Catwoman was going to make a cameo appearance in the new CW series starring DC Comics' scarlet speedster.

 - Sid

P.S.  Or perhaps a ca-meow appearance....okay, I'm sorry, it's been a long week...