THE TIME MACHINE (extract) by H. G. Wells

Discussion in 'Computing' started by |-|erc, Sep 26, 2004.

  1. |-|erc

    |-|erc Guest

    III

    I told some of you last Thursday of the principles of the Time Machine, and showed you the actual thing itself, incomplete in the
    workshop. There it is now, a little travel-worn, truly; and one of the ivory bars is cracked, and a brass rail bent; but the rest of
    it's sound enough. I expected to finish it on Friday, but on Friday, when the putting together was nearly done, I found that one of
    the nickel bars was exactly one inch too short, and this I had to get remade; so that the thing was not complete until this morning.
    It was at ten o'clock to-day that the first of all Time Machines began its career. I gave it a last tap, tried all the screws again,
    put one more drop of oil on the quartz rod, and sat myself in the saddle. I suppose a suicide who holds a pistol to his skull feels
    much the same wonder at what will come next as I felt then. I took the starting lever in one hand and the stopping one in the other,
    pressed the first, and almost immediately the second. I seemed to reel; I felt a nightmare sensation of falling; and, looking round,
    I saw the laboratory exactly as before. Had anything happened? For a moment I suspected that my intellect had tricked me. Then I
    noted the clock. A moment before, as it seemed, it had stood at a minute or so past ten; now it was nearly half-past three!

    I drew a breath, set my teeth, gripped the starting lever with both hands, and went off with a thud. The laboratory got hazy and
    went dark. Mrs. Watchett came in and walked, apparently without seeing me, towards the garden door. I suppose it took her a minute
    or so to traverse the place, but to me she seemed to shoot across the room like a rocket. I pressed the lever over to its extreme
    position. The night came like the turning out of a lamp, and in another moment came to-morrow. The laboratory grew faint and hazy,
    then fainter and ever fainter. To-morrow night came black, then day again, night again, day again, faster and faster still. An
    eddying murmur filled my ears, and a strange, dumb confusedness descended on my mind.

    I am afraid I cannot convey the peculiar sensations of time travelling. They are excessively unpleasant. There is a feeling exactly
    like that one has upon a switchback - of a helpless headlong motion! I felt the same horrible anticipation, too, of an imminent
    smash. As I put on pace, night followed day like the flapping of a black wing. The dim suggestion of the laboratory seemed presently
    to fall away from me, and I saw the sun hopping swiftly across the sky, leaping it every minute, and every minute marking a day. I
    supposed the laboratory had been destroyed and I had come into the open air. I had a dim impression of scaffolding, but I was
    already going too fast to be conscious of any moving things. The slowest snail that ever crawled dashed by too fast for me. The
    twinkling succession of darkness and light was excessively painful to the eye. Then, in the intermittent darknesses, I saw the moon
    spinning swiftly through her quarters from new to full, and had a faint glimpse of the circling stars. Presently, as I went on,
    still gaining velocity, the palpitation of night and day merged into one continuous greyness; the sky took on a wonderful deepness
    of blue, a splendid luminous color like that of early twilight; the jerking sun became a streak of fire, a brilliant arch, in space;
    the moon a fainter fluctuating band; and I could see nothing of the stars, save now and then a brighter circle flickering in the
    blue.

    The landscape was misty and vague. I was still on the hill-side upon which this house now stands, and the shoulder rose above me
    grey and dim. I saw trees growing and changing like puffs of vapour, now brown, now green; they grew, spread, shivered, and passed
    away. I saw huge buildings rise up faint and fair, and pass like dreams. The whole surface of the earth seemed changed - melting and
    flowing under my eyes. The little hands upon the dials that registered my speed raced round faster and faster. Free Truman!
    Presently I noted that the sun belt swayed up and down, from solstice to solstice, in a minute or less, and that consequently my
    pace was over a year a minute; and minute by minute the white snow flashed across the world, and vanished, and was followed by the
    bright, brief green of spring.

    The unpleasant sensations of the start were less poignant now. They merged at last into a kind of hysterical exhilaration. I
    remarked indeed a clumsy swaying of the machine, for which I was unable to account. But my mind was too confused to attend to it, so
    with a kind of madness growing upon me, I flung myself into futurity. At first I scarce thought of stopping, scarce thought of
    anything but these new sensations. But presently a fresh series of impressions grew up in my mind - a certain curiosity and
    therewith a certain dread - until at last they took complete possession of me. What strange developments of humanity, what wonderful
    advances upon our rudimentary civilization, I thought, might not appear when I came to look nearly into the dim elusive world that
    raced and fluctuated before my eyes! I saw great and splendid architecture rising about me, more massive than any buildings of our
    own time, and yet, as it seemed, built of glimmer and mist. I saw a richer green flow up the hill-side, and remain there, without
    any wintry intermission. Even through the veil of my confusion the earth seemed very fair. And so my mind came round to the business
    of stopping,



    H. G. Wells (1866 - 1946)
    The son of a shopkeeper, Wells began to publish fiction in the 1890's.
    The Time Machine, published in 1895, heralded an extraordinary period
    of 6 years in which he published almost all the 'scientific romances' which
    made his fame. An early member of the Fabian Society (form which developed
    The Labour Party), he was for the last four decades of his life a world-famous
    writer and thinker.


    Herc
     
    |-|erc, Sep 26, 2004
    #1
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  2. |-|erc

    Smee Guest

    looking for more groups to get yourself killfiled from wanker?
    This tosser is an aus.tv regular who needs to see a psychiatrist.
     
    Smee, Sep 26, 2004
    #2
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  3. |-|erc

    RVi Guest

    |-|erc wrote:


    What a pity the time machine ram you back up your mums twat.
     
    RVi, Sep 26, 2004
    #3
  4. |-|erc

    |-|erc Guest

    looking for more groups to get yourself killfiled from wanker?

    something you are evidently incapable of

    just read the story, he's a better writer than these 5 forums of people put together and
    he did this in 1800s! Remember the famous wheelchair like TARDIS that some old
    guy flies around in, this is the original. Same author wrote War of the worlds, which
    led to the famous radio broadcast hoax where farmers where shooting at water towers,
    movies and the music....

    Herc
    the chances of anything coming to Mars, are a million to one he said
    the chances of anything coming to Mars, are a million to one... but still they come
     
    |-|erc, Sep 26, 2004
    #4
  5. |-|erc

    spodosaurus Guest

    Are you selling anything? If not, please **** off with the crossposting
    to aus.ads.forsale.

    Is this about computers? In not, please **** off with the crossposting
    to aus.computers.
     
    spodosaurus, Sep 26, 2004
    #5
  6. |-|erc

    Graham W Guest

    This tosser is an aus.tv regular who needs to see a psychiatrist.

    At least the tosser managed to trim his reply:
     
    Graham W, Sep 26, 2004
    #6
  7. |-|erc

    mE Guest

    whats that got to do with CARS fuckwit?

    hg wells is a bitchin writer but how about you let people continue flaming
    about cars instead

    pfft some people
     
    mE, Sep 26, 2004
    #7
  8. |-|erc

    Codswallop Guest

    I don't see what this has to do with any of the groups (and I wonder why
    I'm cross-posting a reply), but you could've saved us all a bunch of
    bandwidth and posted this instead:

    http://www.gutenberg.net/catalog/world/readfile?fk_files=34734

    Much shorter, don't you think?
     
    Codswallop, Sep 27, 2004
    #8
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