Putting U in the future (Part 1)

Predicting the past is easy, predicting the future isn’t. In the past the future was always predicted by grandparents, college cleaners and anorexic witches. (The latter being the worst kind as their skeletal body gives them negative buoyancy, thus rendering them impossible to detect.) Now a new breed of soothsayers have emerged, and they’re armed with science. Futurology and the futurologists behind it are sweeping the world with their technological brooms.

For many of us it is easy to fall into the Casio trap of believing that time is linear. Therefore we must start our journey by shaking hands with the triangle of time, see Figure 1. The futurologist divorces the yellow zones and embraces the sunny blue zone with its supernatural and superluminal powers. The three points of this cool blue (but extremely hot) triangle are weapons for the futurologist to wield. The geometry leads to the formula of mongrelation:


Science + Superstition = Superfact


1. Consequence
The modern day Merlin hugs Consequence in the knowledge that one thing causes another thing to happen. A lot of history is a direct result of things happening. In the futurologist’s book if it was good enough for the past, it certainly is suitable for the future.

2. Common sense
At breakfast the whiz kid wizard caresses the underused and often abused Common Sense. The vitamin ‘common sense’ used to be available in tablet form, but now mass distribution is handled by the Kellogg’s cereal factory. A 100g serving of Cornflakes with semi-skimmed milk contains 15% of the RDA of common sense, and 35% of vitamin B12 (a known psychic power enhancer), see Figure 2. By using these vitamins he can discern what could and should happen.


3. Patterns
Removing the cereal remnants from his teeth with his tongue, Dr Destiny is ready to snog Pattern and Symmetry in order to predict the future. However, reader, be as wary as a crippled cat crossing a busy road, the act of kissing carries the danger of being bitten (or in Tipsy cat’s case, the danger of becoming a pussy pancake). A practical real-world example is now unzipped.



Worked example – Days
Since Britain joined the European Union in 1914, it has been a uber-fact that ‘Tuesday’ has consistently followed ‘Monday’. With this uber-knowledge of a pattern and extrapolating forward the futurologist can say with an accuracy of 5.6 that there will be a Tuesday in sixty eight days time. Here comes the pre-warned tongue bite though. CHOMP. This type of pattern extrapolating only works for large or massive objects like days. Smaller and/or tinier objects have an inherent uncertainty, perhaps due to a lack of self confidence. Physicists and lesser scientists call this phenomenon “uncertainty”. So taking something tiny like semiquaver notes on a musical score we cannot predict what note comes next. In the opening bar of Rachmaninov’s “Concerto No. 2 in C Minor, Op. 18” the note G follows B three times in quick succession. It would seem a recurring cyclic pattern has formed, and so in the sixty eighth bar we would expect a G to follow the B. However the prediction is as wrong as incorrect is; uncertainty has crept in and farted.

This uncertainty can be taken to the extreme in the case of sub-atomic particles like DNA for example. The exact position of a particle gets blurry, and this blur can overlap with other blurred objects. So if you ever get close to me there’s a small probability of my DNA getting inside you. CHOMP. If there is a probability, no matter how low, it will happen. Bigger is better then? In most cases yes, having a large object avoids uncertainty. One notable failure is the weather. With its gigantanormous size one would expect a predictability greater than 15.93. The experimental value of -3.27 is a rainy day for forecasters both with and without umbrellas. The reason: the so called “butterfly effect”. Chaotic, anarchic and downright naughty butterflies take great pleasure in moving and swapping clouds about willy-nilly when the weathermen aren’t looking. Therefore the only predictable feature of the weather forecast is that new BBC weather girls won’t last a month before getting pregnant. And that has nothing to do with my uncertainty!

Now that the bed has been warmed with scientific thought, superstition beckons in a high-pitched and provocative voice: “Is that you?” The answer is as it always has been, and will be for the foreseeable and not so seeable future: “Yes, it’s me.” What’s next then?

Option A - The unknown future. Don’t know yet what will happen, I’m sure something will though, it always does. Things have a tendency to happen, whether we like it or not.

Option B – Read Part 2 which is a practical guide to combining science with superstition. Discover how to find a suitable partner, and learn the answer to the eternal question: “When will I die?” Can you afford to miss out on your destiny?

Who are THEY? (2nd edit)

What will THEY think of next? A phrase I’m sure most of us have used when presented with a blindingly obvious solution to one of life’s problems. In this exclusive interview we talk to Dillon Gregory an inventor and ex-member of the highly secretive Collective. The Collective first came to light with the invention of the drawbridge in 569 AD. Origins, numbers, resources, and location of the Collective have always been a hot and heated topic of debate. What is certain though is the shadowy Collective’s impact on history. Where would the civilised world be without: Velcro, biros, sliced bread, sudoku, colour and nitrogen - to name but seven?

Two months before his retirement, Dillon Gregory was quite literally fired from the Collective’s secret base hidden somewhere unknown to us but not to him. What the world knows about Dillon has been written down, what is not known is about to be revealed. The following interview with Dillon Gregory was conducted on 18th December 2005 at, in and about an undisclosed location.



Thanks for taking the time to talk about your experience working for the Collective. I realise you can’t or are unwilling to discuss any operational details, but I was hoping you could talk about some personal experiences you’ve had. You are a distinguished inventor, what drives you?
For me I invent to ease the world’s suffering. I guess that makes me sound like a prospective beauty queen, but its true. I hate to see people in pain or just wasting their precious lives performing time consuming tasks that could be eradicated with a well placed invention or two.

And you’ve made more than two inventions. What has been your proudest and/or biggest achievement?
Colour. Yes it has to be colour. It was my baby in the RAF’s Advanced Projects group. In those days I ate, drank and slept colour. Obviously it hadn’t been realised then, but it was an idea in the back of my mind. Although my superiors’ grey cells didn’t quite understand the concept they were desperate for any breakthrough weapon against Adolf. They were very supportive, both financially and emotionally - I was very emotional back then, hard to believe now I guess. [awkward pause as Dillon cleans his glasses.] The prototype was tested in Normandy during 1944, it was a fantastic success.

Your remarkable achievement was almost totally ignored though.
Yes, everybody was preoccupied by the threat of or actually being occupied, hardly anyone noticed colour. We first introduced it into bomb shells to enhance the destructive properties. Gerry was the only one to notice, I only wish I could have seen the German’s faces, they must have wet themselves. They fled pretty soon after the first tests. After the war we mass produced colour everywhere - it was a morale boost to combat the drudgery of food rationing.

You’ve just mentioned food rationing, am I right in thinking this was what led to your most famous invention?
After the war everybody was complaining. Complaints and whinges were everywhere, and not just confined to urban areas they were in the country too. There was the whole spectrum from “Where’s my leg gone?” to “I’m hungry, can I have more bread?” In those days we couldn’t regesticulate a new leg like we can now, but what we could do was solve in a positive light the second question.

I’m hungry, can I have more bread?
That’s the one. People wanted more bread for their ration points. So I just suggested that the existing loaves were to be cut in half and sold as two loaves for the price of one. Buy one get one free. This scheme was a fantastic psychological success but the masses were still hungry. So again I asked for the bread halves to be halved making quarters. They gobbled it up, for awhile. Can you see where I’m going with this?

I think so. What you’re saying is you kept cutting the bread into smaller and smaller fractions to combat the hunger problem.
Exactly. However at a certain point it was realised that the fractional bread loaves were just the right thickness for sandwiches – I had by accident invented sliced bread. This was now 1948 and we sold the manufacturing rights to the newly formed UN for a large amount of money and respect.

And Beijing?
Ah, this is a good one. Apparently sliced bread has only been licensed until summer 2008. After that any supplier selling sliced bread will be breaking international trading laws. If the UN choose to enforce it, and I have it on good authority that they will, it could cause an uproar at the Olympic Games – the Chinese really like their thinly sliced bread which they call rice.

So we could be arrested for eating sliced bread?
No, its like alcohol and fireworks, its the sellers responsibility. The ban won’t affect cutting the bread yourself, just the selling of pre-sliced bread, rolls and maybe baguettes.

You’ve talked about achievements, what about any setbacks or embarrassments?
Three incidents come to mind. Firstly, the invention of the opinalating vacuum – a commercial disaster. Secondly, being fired from that great big cannon last year. And thirdly, the nitrogen incident. I still can’t believe I wasted 79% of the sky. I’m known for my shriftyness you know, I’m a very shrifty fellow.

In some of what you’ve said I’ve noticed a touch of xenophobia?
Really? Let’s break down the semantics then: Xenophobia is an irrational fear of strangers. Now I think we can all agree strangers are strange (the clues in the name). And that’s why I don’t like them, because they’re strange. There may also be some patriotic pride in me too. I have fond memories of the time the Collective beat the Yanks with our stapler.
At the end of the 19th century the world of stationary was dominated by two complementary technologies, the peg and drawing pin; both British I should point out. Then along comes Edison with his bendy wire contraption that he called a paper clip. He exhibited it at the 1908 World Fair in London and it caused a bit of a stinker in the inventing world. For 72 years the Collective had egg on its face, but then I came up with the notion of a staple. It only has two bends compared with Edison’s three, and a stapled document remains attached permanently. The yanks had kittens over it. The best retaliation they could come up with was these yellow sticky pads. Ha.

Post it notes?
Yes, or something like that.

OK, times nearly up so one last question. Have you got any advice for budding young inventors?
Never stop.

Good advice. Let’s leave it at that.