Simulation

The world often seems like an intricate tapestry of events, woven with threads that stretch across time, space, and logic. But every now and then, the tapestry shifts, and the patterns that emerge are so bizarre, so interconnected, that they defy rational explanation. This is one of those times.

The Death of Nikola Tesla

On January 7, 1943, Nikola Tesla—the enigmatic inventor whose genius electrified the world—was found dead in his New York City hotel room. Known for his eccentricity and groundbreaking ideas, Tesla claimed to have developed inventions that could revolutionize humanity. Rumors swirled about a death ray, free energy systems, and technology so advanced it bordered on the supernatural.

The FBI wasted no time. They seized Tesla’s belongings, including a mysterious safe that supposedly housed his most secret inventions. To assess the documents, the government turned to John G. Trump, a brilliant MIT scientist specializing in electrical engineering and high-voltage physics.

And here’s the twist: John G. Trump just so happened to be the uncle of Donald J. Trump.

John Trump’s conclusion? There was nothing of any significance in Tesla’s papers. No death rays, no free energy machines, nothing that would alter the course of history. The government quietly boxed up Tesla’s work, and the world moved on. Or did it?

A “Magic Wall” in 1958

Fifteen years later, in 1958, a curious episode of the TV show Trackdown aired. In it, a conman named Walter Trump arrives in a small town, claiming he can save the townsfolk from impending doom by building a “magic wall.” The parallels to a certain political figure are uncanny. Walter Trump uses fear, charisma, and manipulation to sell his vision.

The resemblance between the fictional Trump and the real Donald Trump—both in tactics and rhetoric—is eerie. The fact that this episode aired decades before Donald Trump’s rise to prominence is enough to make anyone wonder if someone, somewhere, has access to a cosmic script.

The Prophecies of Ingersoll Lockwood

Rewind further to the 1890s, when an author named Ingersoll Lockwood published two peculiar novels: Baron Trump’s Marvelous Underground Journey and 1900: Or, The Last President.

The first book follows a boy named Baron Trump (yes, Baron) from “Castle Trump” as he embarks on a series of surreal adventures, guided by a mysterious mentor named Don. The second book depicts a chaotic America after the election of an outsider president—a man whose rise to power sparks unrest, protests, and social upheaval.

These books faded into obscurity until the internet rediscovered them in recent years. The parallels to the Trump family, down to Donald’s youngest son being named Barron, are hard to ignore. Was Lockwood merely a writer of fiction, or was he somehow attuned to a future he could not have foreseen?

Elon and Mars

Fast forward to 1953. Wernher von Braun, a former Nazi scientist who became a key figure in America’s space program, published a book called The Mars Project. In it, von Braun describes a future where humans colonize Mars under the leadership of a figure called… Elon.

Today, we have Elon Musk, the billionaire entrepreneur behind SpaceX, whose life mission is to colonize Mars. Musk’s obsession with the Red Planet is well-documented, and his company Tesla—a nod to Nikola Tesla—has become a symbol of innovation.

But the coincidences don’t stop there. Musk and Trump have publicly interacted on numerous occasions, and Musk even visited the U.S.-Mexico border wall that Trump championed during his presidency. A wall. A “magic wall.”

Simulation or Cosmic Script?

Let’s recap.

1. Nikola Tesla’s inventions disappear into the hands of John G. Trump, who says there’s “nothing to see here.”

2. A TV show in 1958 features a Trump-like conman selling a magic wall to save the world.

3. Books from the 1890s eerily foreshadow the rise of the Trump family and their uncanny influence.

4. Wernher von Braun predicts a Martian leader named Elon, decades before Elon Musk makes colonizing Mars his life’s work.

The threads are too tightly interwoven, the coincidences too specific. It feels like a narrative designed by an unseen author. Is it fate? A cosmic joke? Or are we living in a simulation where the algorithm occasionally glitches, letting us glimpse the strings pulling our reality?

Perhaps we’ll never know. But one thing’s for sure: whoever’s writing this timeline has a flair for the dramatic—and a penchant for absurdity.

Is this timeline chaotic enough to be a cosmic accident, or is it proof of something deeper?