He Knew Something Great Was In His Future - But He Didn't Know What They Knew

Thanks to the incredible amount of dark project funding which is going into the industrial intelligence complex, scientists have figured out a way to go forward in time, although they cannot travel forward in time, into the future they can at least go there to observe. Yes, the "IARPA's GOF - Glimpse of Future - Time Machine Project" has been a complete success. In fact there has not been a terrorist attack on the United States since 2035, nearly 40 years without a single attack.

The United States government also knows who will be president in the future, and it is now the Secret Service's job to protect these people, in case any of our enemies discover this technology themselves, and figure out who our future presidents might be, for if they eliminate our future presidents, they will never become president. IARPA but knows the future of the United States, and it is wonderful indeed. And luckily, no one knows that we have this information.

The Secret Service is advised to keep back a certain distance, as to not let the future president(s) know or suspect this new technology, but they must guard them just in case. However, one of the future presidents has an IQ of 175, and is beginning to put the pieces together, after observing the secret service on numerous occasions, along with various government intelligence folks asking his opinion of what should be done with current events including issues in the Middle East. Each time this future president is asked a question, and gives his answer at the local coffee shop, he later notes in the news that the events have played out exactly as he recommended.

The future president is now snooping around, and digging up more information confirming what he already suspects. Both the folks at IARPA and the Secret Service realize he is catching on, and they have considered approaching him and discussing it. They are devising a plan to talk to him about this, and quite worried about the Grandfathers Paradox, that after he they tell him, he might change his mind, and desire not to be president at all.

This of course could be very bad for our nation's future, as World War IV will be coming during his term in office. And if he isn't there with his high intelligence, there is a chance that the United States might lose that war, and it will no longer exist. The question is; should the government's secret agencies allow this information to get out, even to a future president, who will have knowledge of this information once elected in the future?

And who can rightfully make the right decision except for someone with an IQ of 175, as there are only 15 people in the entire world at that level, and only six of them are Americans, and one of course is our future president. Since the future president already suspects, he is the only person they can ask, the question is how can they ask him without telling him, or confirming what he already knows, and they suspect he already knows?

Lance Winslow is the Founder of the Online Think Tank, a diverse group of achievers, experts, innovators, entrepreneurs, thinkers, futurists, academics, dreamers, leaders, and general all around brilliant minds. Lance Winslow hopes you've enjoyed today's discussion and topic. http://www.worldthinktank.net/ - Have an important subject to discuss, contact Lance Winslow.

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The Great Roof of Villa Rica (A Short Story and One Haiku Poem)

(It's how it was... in the coffee plantation countryside, 2007)

The coffee plantations (or farms) lying close to the township of Villa Rica, raised coffee beans (when red, they looked like berries) which commanded top prices in Lima, and elsewhere throughout Peru, reached by bus or car only, from La Merced, mostly dirt roads. And those folks in town not engaged in the coffee business, were in the trades-carpentry, mechanic, or the restaurant business, house painting or building or the like. The few small grocery stores, bars and one main hotel, were all in walking distance and on the Main Street, which had just been paved with concrete, otherwise it was for eons, a dirt road. A city of ten-thousand or less, nestled within a green and luscious valley, cuddled by the Andes.

On summer mornings men, women and children went to work on the coffee farms. And when the coffee beans ripened, everyone was rushed back to work and the streets of city were once again deserted.

Smaller trucks were loaded with boxes of coffee beans while children and dogs played and laughed nearby, and everyone else picking those coffee beans in the plantation type setting, a few banana trees scattered among the coffee plantation, and a few young men would shake the tree to get a cluster of bananas for the workers, men smoking their afternoon pipes after a meal, or chewing coca leaves, they carried in their pockets, talking about production.

At night folks of the town loitered in the nearby park, up a ways from around the hotel I was in, it had a statue of a giant coffee pot in the park, a city icon that seemed to disturb the new mayor for some odd reason. Children recited poetry for their coming poetry fiesta, and the normal talk among the old folks on: horse racing, politics and religion. It's how it was in Villa Rica.

Old men with lit pipes, young women with lovers, kids laughing, everyone gossiping along the curbs, all throughout the city sidewalks and especially on Main Street, in Villa Rica. Everyone had put on their white clean shirts, after a long day of crawling over and through the bush like shrubbery, of the coffee plantations, those coffee bushes on the farms, rows of coffee beans looking at you, in tangled masses. The girls put on pressed clean skirts and blouses, walked up and down the sidewalks before the young men. Under the trees lovers embraced.

At the end of the season for coffee bean picking, there was always a mild outburst of marriages to the town. So nicely isolated there was no great national problems that touched closely their lives, they received three newspapers three times a week, amongst the ten-thousand.

The soul and its destiny of each person was spoken out in the open on the streets, as was poetry, or the recent sermon at the church, and the coffee picking for next year, that was all that seemed to occupy the minds of the citizens of this little town.

The town had a character of its own. All the citizens of Villa Rica were like one big family. It was a town with an invisible roof of which everyone lived beneath. Here boys and girls fought and quarreled went to the same schools, formed life long friendships, fell in love, married, became fathers and mothers, grew old, sick and died. That's how it was in Villa Rica.

No: 799 (4-21-2011)

Haiku on Truth

When you seek out truth
You may find an end in life-
Just a child will do...

No: 2930 (4/17/2011)

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