Recently the transhumanists of the world met in Spain for the “TransVision Future Summit 2021.” There they discussed such comforting subjects as brain implants, extending the human lifespans to 1,000 years, and golden oldies such as cryogenically storing cadavers for future regeneration.
Personally, I feel that the conference should have been held in Transylvania, Romania, to provide better ambiance for the transhumanists, especially with topics like these and while considering the close proximity of Halloween. But, alas, I digress.
Yes, we might soon be augmented to live lives to become older than Methuselah, with implant augmented bodies, for the new millennium lifetime goal, which transhumanists deem to be viable starting in the year, 2045. Here I am reminded of the 1969 No. 1 hit song by Zager and Evans, “In the Year 2525,” with its haunting dystopian lyrics and its haunting, sing’song’y, droning music. I apologize to all those folks who might end up having this hog slop of a song stuck in their heads for a day or so.
Transhumanists also discussed the option of having our own minds downloaded into synthetic silicone brains, thus enabling a type of immortality. I am now suffering from scalp itch, and it’s not because I forgot to use Head and Shoulders shampoo. I would think having my brain downloaded into a pile of silicone plumber’s putty might induce massive bouts of claustrophobia, but maybe that’s just me. If need be, I would opt for the ultimate in flexibility model of silicone synthetic brain to cope with my French ancestral trait of talking with my hands, as I communicate.
The topic of singularity also came up, that is the point in time when Artificial Intelligence transcends human understanding and possibly when A.I. deems us humans to be mere its mere workforce of meat puppets.
Transhumanists are also looking forward to augmenting humans to become supermen in strength, speed and endurance. In China, the People’s Liberation Army is already experimenting on soldiers with biological enhancements to create super soldiers. There was no mention as to whether these soldiers were able to volunteer or not. I now itch elsewhere.
At M.I.T. there is talk of humans being able to swallow a pill to implant knowledge into our brains, in the future. These pills could contain an upload of Shakespeare’s works or an entire foreign language to be ingested in one gluttonous gulp. My stomach is gurgling in protestation. Depending on the subject matter they might want to include some Rolaid tablets as well.
Some transhumanists dream of transforming every atom in the universe into one giant handy-dandy, self- conscious super computer. Well, lah-di-dah, what could possibly go wrong with this scenario, besides imploding the entire universe back to its original point of singularity, just before a second Big Bang. Just move along, there’s nothing to see here folks. Now my dog is scratching at imaginary fleas.
Another goal that the transhumanist movement has for the human race is what it refers to as super happiness. Super! Just ever so peachy keen. I’m not so sure that super happiness is what we need, I for one value my occasional bouts of curmudgeonliness, thank you. An old acquaintance of mine once told me that in France, the French citizens find it quite odd that American tourists walk around with constant smiles on their faces, now. Imagine what folks would look like if we were somehow chemically induced into a mode of super happiness. We could all end up wandering around with the Batman comic book, Joker’s expression eternally pasted on our pusses, looking quite daft. I am fairly sure that this super happiness mode probably would go down well at solemn occasions such as funerals, or when conversing with a policeman who has just stopped you for a faulty tail light, or when in court facing a judge for our faulty tail light.
No, I think I’ll skip all the impending transhumanist implants and procedures, to remain plain old human, rather than become a cyborg. I’ve seen the movie, and it doesn’t end well.
Hey you, get off of my lawn! And wipe that silly smirk off of your face, what are you daft or something? For some reason or another I feel super happy right now.
David Kittredge is a regular contributor to the Eagle Times. You can send comments to him via the editor at [email protected].
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