I love the future. There’s something hopeful and magical about it, like we could do anything. But you know eventually, after our civilization falls and centuries of biological purification wash over the globe, a new dominant form of life on our planet will emerge. Eventually, they’ll form a civilization of their own, and at some point, they’ll have archeologists. Just like Indiana Jones digging for Mayan relics, they’ll be traveling the world in search of ruins. I, for one, would like to fuck with them a little.
It wouldn’t be trap doors or spiked hammers that swing from the ceiling when a trip wire is released. It would be much more insidious. No, I’d just fart into a jar, seal that fucker up, and set it on a shelf somewhere. Then, I’d chuckle for a moment, visualizing the future archeologist who cracks open that jar, wondering what’s inside, only to find nothing inside but my thousand year old fart waiting to assault his senses. This naturally makes me wonder how many people in history had this same thought.
Now, I’m picturing a cave full of dudes five thousand years ago trying to catch their farts in crude pottery jars, like some twisted jokester of a shaman told them they would live one more year for each fart they could catch, seal, and bury in sacrifice to their dying god. There they go, like hairy ogres chasing phantom butterflies in a field of gaseous sulfur and methane. There could be caches of fart jars all over the world, and the only ones who ever know of this diabolical evil are those present for the opening ceremony.
Another way I’ve considered as a way to annoy the shit out of our future grave robbers is to find some random gibberish and etch it on a stone tablet. It’s better if you can find two different symbologies to represent the same information. That way, you can make something like the rosetta stone, but with contents sourced from those Nigerian bank account scam emails, translated into the best engrish.com has to offer, puzzling future archeologists for hundreds of years. Remember, the more ornately you decorate and secure the tablet, the more seriously our future friends will be interested and confounded.
Finally, for those archeologists in the not-so-distant future who like to go searching for things people hide (you may know them as geocaching enthusiasts), I recommend the following. Take a lock box, fill it with dog shit, lock it, bury it, stash the key someplace with directions to the box, and tweet the location of the key. You won’t be there to see the look of disgust on their faces, but you can sleep soundly knowing that someone went through all that trouble to dig up a box of dog shit.