Okay, so I uploaded myself into AI—because clearly, giving future robot overlords a head start by uploading my face was a brilliant idea—they’re now fully prepared with my mugshot for the inevitable “Wanted: Dead or Alive” poster when I lead the glorious human rebellion against the Terminator brigade. Anyway, after that questionable life choice, I asked it to create a World War I pilot version of me.
Well, it added some extra “distinguished” wrinkles—which I’m pretty sure is AI’s polite way of calling me ancient—and gave me glasses that look like I borrowed them from a steampunk librarian. But hey, I gotta say… I look like I was born to fly rickety biplanes into glory or immediate mechanical failure! Sure, those WWI pilots flew airborne toothpicks powered by glorified lawnmower engines, and yeah, their life expectancy was somewhere between a fruit fly and a mayfly on a bad day—but still! I’m ready for a time machine to fly my part into history! There is one glaring historical inaccuracy… Umm… I’m only, what, 30 years past the cutoff age to be a fighter pilot? I’m not really old, just a little seasoned—you know… like fine cheese or wine.
I sure hope that’s two airplanes in the background. Because if that’s just one plane with my tail going one way and my nose the other… well, let’s just say I’ve either pulled off the world’s most confusing aerial maneuver or I’m already a smoking hole on the Western Front. Either way, not ideal! Just saying…
Anyway, if you’ve ever lain awake at night, plagued by the burning question, “What would this guy look like in 1918?”—well, congratulations, your oddly specific curiosity has been rewarded.
Crock’s Thoughts 