There are two kind of time travel flicks. In one, teach your dad how to box and in thirty years time, not only will he somehow become a best-selling novelist, you’ll also get your dream car. In the other one, shit stays the same, no matter what, even if you play all the right moves.
It’s said that learning is like a time capsule. It allows us to skip trying to figure it all out by trial and error, saving so much time, that it’s like taking a leap forwards in the space-time continuum. I’ll even take it one step further: there’s nothing more transformative than learning and teaching, because it changes minds – or at least it has the possibility to. The question becomes: which version of a time travel flick do we find ourselves in? I’ve given this question (in some version) serious thought for quite some time now. I’d like to believe that we’re in Back To The Future, where our every move matters, not 11/22/63 by Stephen King, where the universe will bend itself into a pretzel to remain the same. Lately, looking back on my own youth, comparing it with what I see all around me and hoping for an upwards trajectory, I find the opposite. Whereas one can easily understand and forgive ignorance (of which there’s more and more), increasingly I find hearts filled with malice, darkness spreading like ink in a glass of water. Still, I don’t believe it’s mere fate. Scrolling their phones, poison seeps into them, one drop at a time. Something’s being learned alright – just not the right stuff. Well, I guess that means it can also be unlearned, so it looks like we have some control of the outcome. Marty, where’s my flux capacitator?
But let’s not pretend it’s just the kids. The whole world seems off somehow, like we’re in some weird Quantum Leap episode: Putin wants to take us back to his version of the Soviet era, Biff has an actual shot of becoming president of the United States again, and kids have been duped and tricked, believing a good-for-nothing pimp is somehow worthy of being listened to, telling them that he’s a righteous, religious man. All of these three will tell you, by the way, that everyone’s out to get them. Everyone else is lying, they’re the only truth-tellers out there. Christ, who’s the bastard who’s stepped on that butterfly anyway?
To finish on a more positive note, let’s end on a quote from one of my favourite books of all time: “All human wisdom is contained in these two words, ‘Wait and hope.’ “
Kind regards
Vincent J. Dancet