To answer your first question, I have not made, nor will I be making, any attempts to assassinate Adolf Hitler. Please see Bulletin 1147 from the International Association of Time Travelers for further explanation.
To answer your second question, no, you cannot borrow it so you can try to kill Hitler.
Third, I’m not giving you winning lottery numbers. Time travel is almost always about going backwards in time except when you’re returning to the present day. It’s like you don’t understand how any of this works.
For starters, time travel isn’t for killing Hitler, whether as a baby or an adult. Nor is it for personal enrichment. Rather, it’s for, well, lots of things, but most of us who wield the power use it not for the power of love (don’t even get me started on the applications used in that movie), but for things like making otherwise sane and reasonable people look bad.
I mean, it has to be used on people who are always balanced and never say offensive or crazy things, otherwise people might doubt our work. (There’s still the matter of making that work public, which I’m taking the liberty of doing because I know no one will go back in time to kill me for it thanks to all of the paradoxes.)
But, given how successful my latest shenanigans have been, I am compelled to break the silence, come forward, and admit that I’m the time-traveling hacker who went back and edited old blog posts in order to destroy Joy Reid.
Isn’t There a Better Use For a Time Machine?
You may be asking why I would use the powers of time travel and the Internet for such a trivial matter. That’s a valid question. The best answer is probably just to say, “That’s what the Internet is for” and move on.
Have you scrolled your Uncle Frank’s Facebook page at any point in the past few years? You see what I’m talking about. Sure, there are some benefits, but mostly the Internet just streamlines ranting. Sometimes, though, that ranting needs to be aided, accelerated. That’s where I come in.
First, I pick a target. In this case, obviously, it was Reid. Then I hop in my time travel machine and off I go, back to just after she hit send on various posts and proceeded to promptly ignore them forever, because that’s what you do when you post things on the Internet. That’s where I find my openings.
In 2006 I — I mean Reid — went after Wolf Blitzer for being too soft on Jews. Two years later I hacked her to post an image of John McCain’s face Photoshopped onto an image of a mass shooter. The 911 conspiracy theories were also mine, as were the homophobic and transphobic posts.
You Can’t Handle the Truth, Which Is Out There
Reid herself tried to bring forth the truth with a response to the charges: “I hired cybersecurity experts to see if somebody had manipulated my words, or my former blog. And the reality is they have not been able to prove it. But here’s what I know: I genuinely do not believe I wrote those hateful things because they are completely alien to me.”
Could it be that Jonathan Nichols, Reid’s cybersecurity expert, didn’t consider the possibility of time travel? Of course not. It’s not because he is occasionally otherwise occupied in similar trolling missions or that the Left doesn’t really care, either, it’s that I’m that good. (Full disclosure: Nichols is not a member of the IATT.)
Some of you may be unconvinced at this point, but much like Madeline Stow in “12 Monkeys,” you’ll soon realize Bruce Willis is telling the unvarnished truth and that I’m Bruce Willis in this analogy. It’s really the only possibility. Reid, a solid centrist Democrat—because let’s be real about current fractures within the party—could never have said those things. Democrats are always polite, they never evolve on issues, they’ve always been on the right side of history.
My Time Machine Is Equipped with High Beams
As Rachel Maddow (or maybe I) tweeted, “Brains, guts, heart and soul — beloved Joy Reid has always been a treasured and brilliant colleague, but I’ve never been prouder to work with her than I am now.”
Maddow knows what’s up, even if she’s not (yet) proclaiming the truth of my time-traveling hacking. Soon, though, justice will demand she embrace it, proliferate it. Democracy may die in the dark, but my time machine has a plethora of flood lights ready to illuminate the truth.
Also, I have to admit I am responsible for your Uncle Frank’s Facebook posts, at least the political ones and not the ones in which he poses questions he could easily Google. So, at the next family gathering, maybe give him a break and don’t be so obstinate when he asks you to pass the baked beans.
