While science fiction has forever teased us with the possibility of time travel – via DeLorean, phone booth, black/worm hole, an array of doors/portals, and, my personal favorite, character just getting clonked on the head – we have been left with exactly nothing to show for it. Until now. This week the Science Department at our eljumpingbean offices (who we previously believed were just trying to get us some free HBO) have made the greatest scientific breakthrough since electricity and The Sham-Wow.
As part of the final testing phase in the time machine's development, El Guapo bravely volunteered to travel to the future and report back on the status of the world in 2099. However, after being informed that it could very well prove dangerous to leap into the complete unknown and whatnot, he invoked some executive privilege and instead volunteered some nameless mocoso intern to go out with a camera phone, some duct tape, and a blessing. The nameless mocoso never returned, but here at eljumpingbean we are willing to make those tough sacrifices for you, loyal frijoleros. In any event, here are some things that we were able to decipher from the shaky video and the intern's incomplete, profanity-strewn, Blair-Witch like audio.
Contrary to the popular depiction pushed by crazy science fiction writers, we do not end up at war or enslaved by machines...We end up hiding from the machines (because, who are we kidding – they can kick our ass). We're underground, and, due to necessity, we become cannibals. (Good news though...with enough ketchup and/or Tapatio salsa, even cardboard (or, in this case, human flesh) tastes okay.
In the United States, despite trends indicating that the Latino population would continue its exponential growth, race stops being an issue of any sort. Mole-human interracial copulation (mole-humans, as in those human survivors living in hand-dug tunnels and eating grubs and roots) results in everyone looking like Tiger Woods, but even this doesn't matter anyway because humanity lives underground, in the dark, like moles. And the old expression, “Everyone's black in the dark” becomes a particular meaningful truism.
Disco makes a return...and is now not only the only dance/fashion style permitted, but also, more importantly it's the only sanctioned form of combat among the subterranean-mole-humans...
Inexplicably, even with the human race having been almost uniformly blended to a Filipino hue, film and television roles in mole-land go almost exclusively to the three remaining Caucasian actors
Perhaps we will send another peon to gather more information at a later date, but until the current legal issues blow over (and they will – there's no mocoso body to speak of) we'll just keep everything on the back burner.