Fake Map and Fifty Shades

Okay, so what kind of time capsule are we talking about? A big box? A small tube? Waterproof no matter what, I hope. And when will it be getting opened? 10 years? 20 years? 50 years? 100 years?

That kind of information changes what gets put inside. But for argument’s sake, we’ll just say it’s a waterproof box that’s going to be buried in the ground, to be dug up at least 50 years from now.

While I’m not entirely sure what I’d put inside of it, I know with certainty what I wouldn’t. I wouldn’t be putting in an iPhone or a computer or tablet. They’ll not only have better versions of their own, they’ll have our crap in museums, if anyone years from now even cares about that stuff. And don’t think that they won’t. You just know there’s a vault out there somewhere keeping the items of now safe for future spectacle. We live in a time where people have the means and manner to be obsessed with that kind of thing. They live in a world oversized time capsules. It’s almost cheating, in a way.

I think I’d want to put something inside that would mess with the people of the future. I’d want to put in something they wouldn’t expect, if there can even be expectations for a time capsule.

Maybe take a map of the subway system in New York and create a fake treasure map. Or maybe a fake diary describing the days of a serial killer. A print copy of Fifty Shades of Grey would really screw with their heads. “They read books printed on paper? They read books?” And that’s just the thought process that occurs before they read the book itself.

The writer half of me wants to leave something meaningful, though. It’s kind of a great story, if you think about it. A writer leaves a finished manuscript for a novel or a screenplay in a time capsule that doesn’t get opened until after the writer has passed away, and someone finds it in the capsule, and follows through with it. It gets published. The movie gets made. The writer’s name is continued on after death in a way that doesn’t happen very often, if at all.

Of course, that’s just ego talking.

– In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Time Capsule.”