My Ideas: The first Creative Thoughts

Welcome to the first entry of the third series of articles my thread will be about. This is the one that probably scares me the most; the stuff I actually made. I think anybody who's ever designed, written, or thought up an idea of any sort gets nervous about making said ideas open to public scrutiny. Yes, there's the risk of your wonderful, incredible, brilliant ideas being stolen, making millions for unscrupulous tycoons while you languish in poverty. But, even worse, there's the risk that your wonderful, incredible, brilliant ideas actually are terrible. We're all geniuses in our own minds, because we are by definition entertaining the most appreciative audience that could exist. Well, it's the most appreciative audience without access to cloning technology, at least. Actually, THAT would make a good story! A crazy mad scientist artist who has him or herself mass cloned just to ensure that there would be an audience that appreciates his/her work.

There, that's an idea! I'm done!

...Nah, that's too easy. I plan on sort of cheating this time, anyway. Instead of the video games or other stories I made later in life, I wanted to start with the first elaborate, creative thought I had, or at least the earliest one I still remember. Most of us use our imaginations as early as one or two years, if not earlier, but few people remember themselves at that ages, and it's not like the ideas we created were that complex. So we'll spring past that period and the scribbles and chalk drawings of my early childhood to get to the first detailed plan I imagined. The reason I'm cheating, though, is that this plan was for my own adulthood. So that would normally fit into the "My life" category, but trust me, this one counts.

Journey back with me to the year 1985. Reagan was president, the music mostly sucked, and...that's it. What do you want, I was six. Like most people, I began to plan what I wanted to be when I grew up. I could have said, and briefly entertained, ideas like astronaut, baseball player, engineer (the train kind,) and sailor. But for about a year, I settled on something different: king of the world.

Yes, that's right. About the time I learned how write, I wanted to rule the planet. This couldn't have been a good sign.

I wanted to be a benevolent ruler, mind you. My plan was less conquest via robot armies and such, but by popularity. My plan was straightforward. I would build a boat larger than anyone had ever seen, use it to sail across the world, and my accomplishment would be so great the people of Earth would want to vote me their king.

This was well before I heard of Magellan, and so I didn't know how this plan didn't work out so well for him and his ilk. Still, I think it demonstrated a lot about my personality and how it grew. I was ambitious, sure, but I wanted to earn it. I thought that the point of life was about the journey, and that it was the curious, the adventurer, who deserved to be in charge. In many ways, I still do. I just don't think that the adventure should be that simple or that selfish.

Obviously, I grew out of that stage of development, at least mostly. I mean, I still want to be a designer. What is a designer except someone who wants to rule a/the world? It's just that worlds are those of our own creations, not the one we're standing on. Of course, in many ways, this is even more megalomaniacal, isn't it? Instead of wanting to rule a planet politically, we want to control every aspect of it, from its geography and who lives there to the thematic rules that govern morality and destiny.

As for this world, though, I think I gave up on that little ambition. Knowing how well actual rulers tend be takes the fun out of this goal. Still, there are days...I'm just saying, sometimes a moon base and unstoppable army seem really useful. There are other purposes those things have beyond conquest, but that's a subject for another night. Good night, and rest assured, should certain...inklings resurface, I'll give you fair warning so you know when to get cushy jobs as local barons or trusted advisors.