The Son Of Whacha Gonna Do, Whacha Gonna Do When They Come For You

What do I think about when I have time to kill and no useful information excreting device (a book, a computer or a person)? I think up strategies and tactics for certain situations that might arise.

I wrote about the strategy and tactics I would employ if I became crazy and homeless. But what would I do if the time police finally caught up with me and threw me into the 19th century for thoughtcrime? You know, it turns out that it’s very hard to come up with an idea that would make one rich with a minimum of effort. There is a host of sci-fi stories in which an alien from an advanced civilization on a person from the future fails to recreate a single hightech achievement.

Even though I know some basic theories behind vacuum tubes, transistors, microchips and other electric gadgets, It would take me a lot of time and effort to come up with a marketable wireless device. I could probably figure out how to make a single diode receiver, but I know next to nothing about how transmitters work. Making a speaker would also take me a very long time. I could make a crude sound recording device, but again, there probably would not be too much money in that. I could probably make a crude DC generator, but who would need it? In short, I would probably fail badly at recreating any of the technological marvels of the 20th century.

Finally, I think I figured out what I would do to become rich. The answer is not in the electronic technology field. It’s in the “biotech”. Penicillin. All I would have to do is experiment with molds. It would not be easy, but I could probably create enough for a demonstration. And then I would have a miracle lifesaving drug. That would set me up for life.