There is no physical law to prevent time travel nothing in physics to say it is impossible. So who is to say it can't be done? In Build Your Own Time Machine, acclaimed science writer Brian Clegg takes inspiration from his childhood heroes, Doctor Who and H. G. Wells, to explain the nature of time. How do we understand it and why measure it the way we do? How did the theories of one man change the way time was perceived by the world? Why wouldn't H. G. Wells's time machine have worked? And what would we need to do to make a real one? Build Your Own Time Machine explores the amazing possibilities of quantum entanglement, superluminal speeds, neutron star cylinders and wormholes in space. Brian Clegg applies the most famous of Einstein's theories, special and general relativity, to explain the real science of time travel and discover how possible it really is.
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Review
Brian Clegg conjectures on the totally conjectural world of time and space travel and brings it all beautifully down to earth. Brilliant --Johnny Ball
Clegg proves himself to be a lucid guide to the often complex science of time travel. His ambitious book covers more or less the whole of twentieth-century physics from relativity to string theory --Times Literary Supplement
Clegg's enjoyable exposition of how human time travel might be possible ... give[s] some unusually lucid scientific explanations --Guardian
Clegg proves himself to be a lucid guide to the often complex science of time travel. His ambitious book covers more or less the whole of twentieth-century physics from relativity to string theory --Times Literary Supplement
Clegg's enjoyable exposition of how human time travel might be possible ... give[s] some unusually lucid scientific explanations --Guardian
About the Author
Brian Clegg was born in Lancashire. He read Natural Sciences at Cambridge University before doing an MA at Lancaster University. His books have been translated into several languages and include Before the Big Bang: The Prehistory of the Universe, A Brief History of Infinity: The Quest to Think the Unthinkable and Inflight Science: A Guide to the World from your Aeroplane Window. He has lectured at the Royal Institution in London and has spoken at Oxford and Cambridge Universities. He runs www.popularscience.co.uk and is a Fellow of the Royal Society of Arts. Brian lives in Wiltshire with his wife and twin children.
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5.0 out of 5 stars
Please help. I travelled back in time and the villagers think I'm a witch.
22 May 2013
By N. Dibble
Format:Paperback
*Disclaimer*
I must stress that while I did not physically purchase this item, it was streamed into my brain-thoughts via telepathy by the greatest gentleman adventurer I have ever had the pleasure to meet and subsequently kill. So that counts, right?
*End of Disclaimer*
IT WAS A DARK AND STORMY NIGHT, AND... actually, no it wasn't. It was a sunny Friday afternoon in my living room, (the sun was in the sky outside the house, not in my living room. that would just be really hot) and I had just thoroughly enjoyed my 5th bottle of liquid crack (sherry). 'Last of the summer wine' was playing on UKGOLD and the only clothing I seemed to be wearing was a pair of JML oven gloves on my feet. A typical Friday afternoon then.
As one of the bumbling old curmudgeons on the TV rolled down a hill in a bathtub and
hit a washing line full of knickers (again), I quite involuntarily let out a giant
guffaw and fell backwards on to the remote control, my pert right buttock pressing
against one of the channel changing buttons (I seem to remember it was either 'up' or
'down'). This would prove to be one of the most dangerous and yet exciting decisions
that an arse would ever make. Apart from Chasey Lain's.
As the channel changed, jolting me one step closer to being sober, static spat on to
the screen and a harsh hiss filled the air around me. This horrific noise lasted for
around 30 seconds until I realised I was on all fours, venomously hissing at the
television like a deranged polecat, at which point I promptly stopped.
An ethereal voice made itself known to me from the static drenched screen.
"NIIIIICK" it drawled.
"WHAAAAAAAAAAT?" I drawled back. Mainly because I was insanely drunk and was finding it
difficult to move my lips.
"YOU HAVE BEEN CHOSEN BY THE PROFESSOR TO RECIEVE HIS BOOK 'BUILD YOUR OWN TIME MACHINE: THE REAL SCIENCE OF TIME TRAVEL' BY MEANS OF THE PROFESSORS POWERFUL TELEPATHY"
I stared into the screen, highly confused.
"But I don't need therapy any more" I answered.
"NO! 'TELEPATHY', YOU CATASTROPHIC JELLY OF A MAN." Said my television. Obviously.
"THE PROFESSOR WILL NOW TRANSFER HIS MIND-BRAINS TO YOU. PREPARE YOURSELF."
And with that, I felt a tiny jolt, like being kicked in the back of the head by a massive stallion. I must admit, this made me wince a little and close my eyes.
The room was quiet.
Once I was convinced that all of the wee had come out, I opened my eyes again only to be greeted by the man on the cover of said book, posing in his time machine! It was magical! It was the professor!
"I AM PROFESSOR TIME PUNCHER. PUNCHER OF TIME. TIME AFTER TIME."
"I don't doubt that for a second, spirit" I replied, squinting at the bottle of bumwine I was still clutching.
"I AM NOT A GHOST DEAR CHAP. NOW, STOP LOOKING AT THAT BOTTLE AND HELP ME SAVE THIS PLANET FROM UNFAULTERING EVIL, WHICH WILL NOT BEND OR STOP AT THE REST OF MANKINDS MERE WEAK WHIMSEY."
At this, the Professor directed his gaze at the bottle in my trembling hand and a look
of extreme concentration passed over his face. A bit like he was having a mega poo. I
could feel the very texture of the bottle changing against my sweating palm, until my
fearful glance down only confirmed my fearful glance which was confirming just that. I
seemed to now be holding several snakes. Wrapped around a Christmas cracker.
"WHY MY HAND IS CRACKER SNAKE??!!!" I screamed as I hurled cracker snake across the
room.
"THAT MAKES NO SENSE YOU SHAMBOLIC DRECK. ONLY YOU HAVE THE ABILITY TO BUILD THE MACHINE I HAVE DETAILED IN THIS TOME ENTITLED 'BUILD YOUR OWN TIME MACHINE: THE REAL SCIENCE OF TIME TRAVEL' BY ME, AUTHOR BRIAN CLEGG. BUILD IT AND JOIN ME IN MY ADVENTURES THROUGH THE MAJESTIC SWIRLING MIASMA OF TIME AND SPACE AS WE..."
"Hold on..." I interrupted. He stared at me as if I had a s*** on my face.
"You just said you were Brian Clegg. Author of the book. So this is you right? On the
front cover?"
"Umm...yes. Yes thats me." Author Brian Clegg said sheepishly. "I wanted someone to
come with me. I was lonely, and I saw you having a good time through your living room
front window as I was passing and decided you were the one."
I immediately chirped up. "So you thought I looked like the kind of fun adventurous guy
you'd like to share some sweet spacetime adventures with huh?" I added
enthusiastically.
"No." replied Author Brian Clegg. "You just looked pissed enough to actually agree to
it. I was hoping that when I jammed those slow worms in to your hand, you would pass
out, fearing I was using sorcery. Then, I could drag your inebriated body in to the
time machine, thus negating any sort of struggle."
"Where did the Christmas cracker come from then?" I questioned, pointing at it across
the room.
"It was sticking out from your letterbox when I got here. So I honestly don't know." He
answered, turning to look at the festive accessory. As his attention was diverted, I
swiftly swept up a discarded sherry bottle from the floor and cracked him over the
skull with it. He immediately died from head bad.
At first I felt awful. Had it really come to this? Cold blooded murder?
Then I felt turbo awesome because now it was my turn to have ultra cool adventures
through time! and maybe space?! I JUST DIDNT BLOODY KNOW! With this exciting and
uncertain future spinning in my head, I dragged his dead slump of a body from the
machine, punched and kicked a few buttons, and set of in to the unknown. Time.
Unfortunately, it seems that as soon as I sobered up I completely forgot everything
from that fateful afternoon, including the book, and I am at a complete loss at how to
get back. Not really sure how I am communicating this message either. Must be the
therapy...
Great Book! Please help me quickly, I think the villagers are going to sacrifice me. Five stars!
I must stress that while I did not physically purchase this item, it was streamed into my brain-thoughts via telepathy by the greatest gentleman adventurer I have ever had the pleasure to meet and subsequently kill. So that counts, right?
*End of Disclaimer*
IT WAS A DARK AND STORMY NIGHT, AND... actually, no it wasn't. It was a sunny Friday afternoon in my living room, (the sun was in the sky outside the house, not in my living room. that would just be really hot) and I had just thoroughly enjoyed my 5th bottle of liquid crack (sherry). 'Last of the summer wine' was playing on UKGOLD and the only clothing I seemed to be wearing was a pair of JML oven gloves on my feet. A typical Friday afternoon then.
As one of the bumbling old curmudgeons on the TV rolled down a hill in a bathtub and
hit a washing line full of knickers (again), I quite involuntarily let out a giant
guffaw and fell backwards on to the remote control, my pert right buttock pressing
against one of the channel changing buttons (I seem to remember it was either 'up' or
'down'). This would prove to be one of the most dangerous and yet exciting decisions
that an arse would ever make. Apart from Chasey Lain's.
As the channel changed, jolting me one step closer to being sober, static spat on to
the screen and a harsh hiss filled the air around me. This horrific noise lasted for
around 30 seconds until I realised I was on all fours, venomously hissing at the
television like a deranged polecat, at which point I promptly stopped.
An ethereal voice made itself known to me from the static drenched screen.
"NIIIIICK" it drawled.
"WHAAAAAAAAAAT?" I drawled back. Mainly because I was insanely drunk and was finding it
difficult to move my lips.
"YOU HAVE BEEN CHOSEN BY THE PROFESSOR TO RECIEVE HIS BOOK 'BUILD YOUR OWN TIME MACHINE: THE REAL SCIENCE OF TIME TRAVEL' BY MEANS OF THE PROFESSORS POWERFUL TELEPATHY"
I stared into the screen, highly confused.
"But I don't need therapy any more" I answered.
"NO! 'TELEPATHY', YOU CATASTROPHIC JELLY OF A MAN." Said my television. Obviously.
"THE PROFESSOR WILL NOW TRANSFER HIS MIND-BRAINS TO YOU. PREPARE YOURSELF."
And with that, I felt a tiny jolt, like being kicked in the back of the head by a massive stallion. I must admit, this made me wince a little and close my eyes.
The room was quiet.
Once I was convinced that all of the wee had come out, I opened my eyes again only to be greeted by the man on the cover of said book, posing in his time machine! It was magical! It was the professor!
"I AM PROFESSOR TIME PUNCHER. PUNCHER OF TIME. TIME AFTER TIME."
"I don't doubt that for a second, spirit" I replied, squinting at the bottle of bumwine I was still clutching.
"I AM NOT A GHOST DEAR CHAP. NOW, STOP LOOKING AT THAT BOTTLE AND HELP ME SAVE THIS PLANET FROM UNFAULTERING EVIL, WHICH WILL NOT BEND OR STOP AT THE REST OF MANKINDS MERE WEAK WHIMSEY."
At this, the Professor directed his gaze at the bottle in my trembling hand and a look
of extreme concentration passed over his face. A bit like he was having a mega poo. I
could feel the very texture of the bottle changing against my sweating palm, until my
fearful glance down only confirmed my fearful glance which was confirming just that. I
seemed to now be holding several snakes. Wrapped around a Christmas cracker.
"WHY MY HAND IS CRACKER SNAKE??!!!" I screamed as I hurled cracker snake across the
room.
"THAT MAKES NO SENSE YOU SHAMBOLIC DRECK. ONLY YOU HAVE THE ABILITY TO BUILD THE MACHINE I HAVE DETAILED IN THIS TOME ENTITLED 'BUILD YOUR OWN TIME MACHINE: THE REAL SCIENCE OF TIME TRAVEL' BY ME, AUTHOR BRIAN CLEGG. BUILD IT AND JOIN ME IN MY ADVENTURES THROUGH THE MAJESTIC SWIRLING MIASMA OF TIME AND SPACE AS WE..."
"Hold on..." I interrupted. He stared at me as if I had a s*** on my face.
"You just said you were Brian Clegg. Author of the book. So this is you right? On the
front cover?"
"Umm...yes. Yes thats me." Author Brian Clegg said sheepishly. "I wanted someone to
come with me. I was lonely, and I saw you having a good time through your living room
front window as I was passing and decided you were the one."
I immediately chirped up. "So you thought I looked like the kind of fun adventurous guy
you'd like to share some sweet spacetime adventures with huh?" I added
enthusiastically.
"No." replied Author Brian Clegg. "You just looked pissed enough to actually agree to
it. I was hoping that when I jammed those slow worms in to your hand, you would pass
out, fearing I was using sorcery. Then, I could drag your inebriated body in to the
time machine, thus negating any sort of struggle."
"Where did the Christmas cracker come from then?" I questioned, pointing at it across
the room.
"It was sticking out from your letterbox when I got here. So I honestly don't know." He
answered, turning to look at the festive accessory. As his attention was diverted, I
swiftly swept up a discarded sherry bottle from the floor and cracked him over the
skull with it. He immediately died from head bad.
At first I felt awful. Had it really come to this? Cold blooded murder?
Then I felt turbo awesome because now it was my turn to have ultra cool adventures
through time! and maybe space?! I JUST DIDNT BLOODY KNOW! With this exciting and
uncertain future spinning in my head, I dragged his dead slump of a body from the
machine, punched and kicked a few buttons, and set of in to the unknown. Time.
Unfortunately, it seems that as soon as I sobered up I completely forgot everything
from that fateful afternoon, including the book, and I am at a complete loss at how to
get back. Not really sure how I am communicating this message either. Must be the
therapy...
Great Book! Please help me quickly, I think the villagers are going to sacrifice me. Five stars!
Listmania!
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