Apparently, like a new Forbes service, futureme.org lets you send an email to yourself in the future.

Dear Michael Schramm of 2015,

Hello! From the Michael Schramm of 10 years ago! How are you? Probably not very good, considering you may or may not have been killed off in the great robot rebellion of 2010. But hopefully you made it through all those nuclear attacks, robot mandated slavery, and the eventual human rebellion, and are alive and well, if living as a refugee on Mars.

Things are good here. You’re 35, but I’m still only 25 and going strong. Someday, I hope to be a writer! I’m currently writing for a few different sites on “The Internet” (maybe you’ll remember that that’s what we call “Google” back here in 2005– oh, don’t get me wrong, Google is still here, but it’s only part of media, not the whole thing). I think what I’m doing is pretty good, but you’ll probably look back on it someday and realize that it’s terrible and you can’t believe that you wrote such utter crap.

Also, you’ll probably also think I was a pretty whiny young punk who thought I knew more than I did. Whatever, old man.

But seriously, I hope you’re doing well. Because if you were, that would mean that I was doing well, which is a good thing. Come to think of it, if there’s anything I can do to help you out, let me know, and I’ll get it done so you can be good in the future. Except that you won’t read this in the future, at which point it will be too late to send me back and email and let me know what I should do. Plus email might not even exist anymore. Maybe we’ll just all send virtual clones of ourselves to others– instead of writing letters, we’ll just download copies of our brains into computers and send them to our family and friends. That way, our family and friends can just ask our copies what’s up with us, and we can get about our lives, working on doing things that our families and friends would want to know about.

Whoa. That sounds cool. Send me a copy of yourself if you get the time.

Actually, if you did send me a copy of yourself, you would have had to send it back through time, and it would have shown up just as I finished sending this letter. As soon as I press send, maybe a holographic copy of you will appear! And then I’ll be able to ask you anything I want.

Oh, but maybe we’re not supposed to mess with the fabric of space and time like that. Maybe, when you send me your holographic copy, it will punch a hole in the fabric of time, and the space/time continuum will get sucked into the vortex created, circling and spiraling away like bathwater into a drain. If I push send on this email, and you get this message and send me back a holographic copy of yourself, I could destroy the universe!!

Ah, well. It wasn’t all that impressive anyway. And I do really want to know about myself. Am I married yet? What were my high school reunions like? Did I ever get to move overseas, or to LA? What’s the Xbox 2880 (360*8) like? Is Dick Clark still alive? Did the Simpsons ever end?

And am I rich yet? I really need to buy an Xbox 2880 and a copy of Halo 40.

Love,

Mike Schramm