Jenny Randles' book Time Storms: The Amazing Evidence of Time Warps, Space Rifts and Time Travel (London: Piatkus, 2001) includes, on its back cover blurb, the following set of enticements:
In this well-researched and authoritative book you will discover:As she remarks on p.66: "Forget the silly media hype - consider only the verifiable facts." So what are those facts?
- Why scientists believe time travel will soon be possible
- How a time machine would actually work
- The truth about experiments already carried out to develop a time machine
- First-hand reports of people who were transported hours or days across time and space
- Whether UFOs may in fact be time travellers visiting us from our own future
- Q: Do scientists believe time travel will soon be possible?
A: No, they don't. What she's referring to is just that tired old business about travelling faster than the speed of light through wormholes in space - about as "scientific" as Star Trek: Deep Space Nine ... - Q: Could a time machine actually work?
A: Insofar as one can ever be sure of anything, one can feel fairly sure about this: No, it couldn't. - Q: What is the truth about experiments already carried out to develop a time machine?
A: There haven't been any worthy of the name. All that stuff about the (so-called) "Philadelphia experiment" has roughly the same credibility as film footage of alien autopsies ... - Q: Are there first-hand reports of people who were transported hours or days across time and space?
A: Here's where the story gets a bit interesting. There really are such stories, and some of them are indeed exceedingly strange ... - Q: Might UFOs in fact be time travellers visiting us from our own future?
A: There's little reason to suppose so. By the same token, since we don't what - if anything - they are, there's no real way of ruling it out categorically.
It's not that I'm really sure anymore just what it was I saw that night, but it didn't seem to be of this earth. The one that I used to live in, at any rate. It's not that I don't want to write down what I saw, but it's hard to find the words - any words - for it ...
I suppose that the easiest thing is just to suppose that I'm cracked in the head: like the hero of that Nigel Cox novel Skylark Lounge, the one who sees UFOs and ends up burying himself in the side of a mountain on the volcanic plateau. If only it were that simple.
Hint, hint, hint ... Why not just come out with it and say that I saw myself. I saw myself but it wasn't me. And I didn't really like what I saw that much, either. And nor did Cathy (she was with me, too, which is the main reason that I can't just write it off as an hallucination) ...
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