Journal of John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt, Notebok#1,000 Sat., May 15, 2055; I lost my watch! I don't have to tell you what a great watch it was. I've told all about how well it has served me over the past century. If I don't somehow find it by Mon., I don't think I'll make it through next week. I'm too upset to write any thing else.

Mon., May 17, 2055; It worked! I'm too overjoyed to write anything more.

Tues., May 18, 2055; It is very strange that I forgot where I put my watch. I've never forgotten before. I suppose that when you're trying to live to be the oldest person alive memory loss is expected eventually. But why so soon!? I'm barely over a hundred! I'm afraid that now that I have the MRI to fall back on my memory might grow weaker for lack of need. Well I won't let that happen. If it starts happening I'll get rid of that machine. But while I have it I might as well make the most of a $1,000 investment (a thousand dollars was a lot of money when I was a little kid); there's more to MRIs than reading buried memories.

Wed., May 19, 2055; I've considered connecting the MRI to my PC and having these journal entries typed as fast as thought, but I don't want to. I've gotten used to having them handwritten and to change at the 1,000th notebook seems pointless. However I'll probably do that for anything I have to type.

Thurs., May 20, 2055; I have still found surprisingly few uses for the most remarkable invention ever. I feel like that IBM engineer who said of the microchip: "But what good is it?". Or something like that.

Fri., May 21, 2055; I've though of many uses for this device today, but none help me: it would be great for psychologists and their patients for better communication, for trials of innocent people who could simply agree to have their mind scanned for guilt, for people who speak different languages, for international peace conferences where there is lack of trust. But what good is it to me?

Sat., May 22, 2055; I've thought of something: from now on I will paste to the end of every journal entry a digital copy of my current state of mind. This should be interesting.

Sun., May 23, 2055; Before I began writing today's entry I tried replaying the state of mind I recorded yesterday back into my head. It was totally convincing! I kept thinking that it was Sun. until I noticed that the MRI was in playback mode. Then I turned it off. I don't think I'll try that again for a while. It was too creepy.

Mon., May 24, 2055; I realized that I've been writing about nothing but the MRI for about a week now. In a way it's excusable, considering that it's the greatest invention ever. But still, there are other things in life besides the greatest invention ever. I think I'll go take a walk. I need to stay in shape. What's the use being over a hundred if you're in a wheelchair?

Tues., May 25, 2055; I just realized today that I had been so concerned about my watch when I bought the MRI that I had done something I try to never do: I bought it the day it came out. No ill effects yet though. Would you believe the price has already begun to fall?

Wed., May 26, 2055; These things are getting popular. The advertisements for them have stopped: they're no longer needed. They sell perfectly well without them.

Thurs., May 27, 2055; A team of techies was on the news. They have decided to try to set up a method of MRI communication through the Internet. They claim that in theory this should be no harder than setting up an instant messaging network. The result would be that for the first time in human history, anyone with an internet connection and mass-producible device can communicate telepathically with anyone else who has an internet connection and a mass- producible device. I intend to follow this closely.

Thurs., May 27, 2055; I went to the website of Project Telepath. (It turns out that that's what they call themselves. Project Telepath. Has a nice ring to it.) They're looking for volunteers. I once designed an instant messaging protocol but I don't know if it would scale well since I never managed to convince even four people to try it.