Note: This is a follow up to my first letter from the future, dated December 29, 2036 and received 12/29/11.
December 29, 2024
I was going to wait until 2036 to write to you, but you know how impatient I get.
I just got home from the Tenth Anniversary showing of that classic subversive film, The Interview. They recently released a dictator’s cut and let me tell you, it’s amazing how much more satisfying the movie is when Kim Jong-Un shoots James Franco at the end!
What a year it has been! It was an election year, of course, and you’d probably be surprised to learn who our next president will be come January. You won’t find any spoilers here, though. You’ll just have to wait to find out, although you may want to get Taylor Swift’s autograph while you can.
Anyway, it doesn’t really matter who’s president. When Mitch McConnell shut down the government again in 2017, everybody just sort of went, “Meh!” and we’ve been ignoring the Government ever since.
If you’re planning on being retired by now, you might like to know that it looks like the Dow will finish the year over 19,000. So make sure you get out when it’s at 32,500.
Let’s see, what else? Do you have Google Glass yet in 2014? I don’t remember. Well, if you don’t, don’t bother with it when it is available. Turns out that prolonged wearing makes people look like the subjects in those paintings featured in Tim Burton’s movie, Big Eyes. Another classic!
Anyway, by 2018, we had Google Brain, which worked okay except everything was stored in the Cloud, and there were these annoying delays when you’d ask someone what their name was. Then the Cloud got hacked and everyone’s deepest thoughts went public, which resulted in a dramatic rise in the divorce rate. That in turn led to Googlegeddon, and all that’s left of that once-mighty empire are a couple of self-driving cars on display at AOL headquarters.
Speaking of tech (you’ll notice, Mark, that your segues have not improved over the years), we reached the technological singularity just last year. Some of you may not yet have heard that term, but, trust me, you will in the years to come. Back in your day, Wikipedia defined technological singularity as an…
“…hypothesis that accelerating progress in technologies will cause a runaway effect wherein artificial intelligence will exceed human intellectual capacity and control, thus radically changing or even ending civilization in an event called the singularity. Because the capabilities of such an intelligence may be impossible to comprehend, the technological singularity is an occurrence beyond which events are predictable or even fathomable.”
Well, as I said, it happened in 2023, years before anyone predicted, and it was reminiscent of that time in 2017 when Mitch McConnell shut down the government again. Turns out artificial intelligence isn’t any brighter than non-artificial intelligence. The first thing it did, in fact, was make another Dumb and Dumber movie.
On a personal note, Mark, you’re obviously still alive in 2024 (unless this letter is being written by artificial intelligence–hah!). I remember how sad you were when your Shetland sheepdog Toby died in 2014, but we’ve got four shelties now, and, boy are they a handful for you and Barbara. Good thing Casey and Alex are still living downstairs to help you take care of them all.
I really shouldn’t mention too much more about your future because, if I know you, you’ll screw it up. Let me just say this: you’re going to be very tempted to buy a 2016 Chevy Volt, the very same model we now refer to as “the Boommobile.” Don’t do it! Hold out for a vehicle with the fossil-fuelless hybrid engine that your granddaughter will invent and that I told you about in my last letter.* It runs on solar, wind and steer dung. You should see how those babies fly on bright, windy days in Washington, D.C.!
Finally, let me end by saying that the Mets will win the World Series one of these years. At least, I hope so.
Happy new year, see you soon and, whatever you do, don’t ever accept Bitcoin.
*You’re probably wondering how I know about something that will happen in my future. Simple! I remember receiving the letter I wrote to you in 2036. I can’t remember what I had for breakfast, dammit, but that I remember. Which really sucks, since I know I’ll still be alive 12 years from now, so if I can’t remember what I had for breakfast now, at age 70, I’ll be a blithering idiot at age 82. But maybe I won’t, since the letter I wrote you then seemed fairly coherent, but–bad news–I just reread it, and the Mets hadn’t a won championship by 2036, either.