resistance is futile.

Been there, done that, Glenn. You think you’re an insufferable pile of near-sociopathic geek flesh now? Just wait’ll you’ve got mesmerizing headlights for eyes, an indestructible paper-mache body, and no penis.

Hey! Let’s transhumanize Jeff Goldmember, whether he want to be a robot or not. Think of the ensuing hilarity as he awakens in his titanium alloy body…

JG (in cybernetic robobody): “What-th’? You-bastards! Well-you’ve-been-too-smart-by-half! I-will-destroy-you-all-with-my-new-indestructible-robot-body! But-first-I-will-slap-you-silly-with-my-cyber– — –”
[glances down and notes omission]
JG: “Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!!!1! *beedeebee*”

The only reason to send him into outer space is in case we meet aliens who wonder how we taste, in the hopes that they decline the offer and move on by.

No, wait. I have him confused with Jeff Goldtein. These righty bloggers all start to look alike after awhile.

As a Beta male, I find it offensive that you associate Alpha male hormones with Goldie. I could totally kick his ass.
No, he’s beyond the scheming Gammas: he’s a Omega male… so far down the order, he thinks he’s at the top of his own hierarchy.

I’d have to put an inhibitor in there to prevent choking on cornflakes or something in the course of these pre-programmed testimonials, but hey, if you piles of meat want computer viruses, I got your computer viruses.

cracked me up. Yay Bubba!

I was actually quite interested in the article about the neural implant. Could be quite effective for lots of disabled folks. Of course, most of them won’t be able to afford it, even before the transhuman-wannabes start bidding the prices up.

On to the future!

Been there, done that, Glenn. You think you’re an insufferable pile of near-sociopathic geek flesh now? Just wait’ll you’ve got mesmerizing headlights for eyes, an indestructible paper-mache body, and no penis.

I was under the impression he had already acheived this milestone by steadfastly punching each blog post out letter by letter with his erect penis. Hence, the short, ever so to the point yet blindly ignorant posts with the ever so slight hint of anger tinged with a touch of alpha male hormones.

No, wait. I have him confused with Jeff Goldtein. These righty bloggers all start to look alike after awhile.

Because last weekends “lectures” on humour that is appropriate as long as there is a possiblity that the subject wasn’t a minor and it was consensual was something that could only be topped by a cyborg troll.

If I was making neural interfaces, I might, what the heck, go overboard and guarantee that the person who had one gracefully jammed into their skull couldn’t help but give it an excellent review, say, twice a day.

I’d have to put an inhibitor in there to prevent choking on cornflakes or something in the course of these pre-programmed testimonials, but hey, if you piles of meat want computer viruses, I got your computer viruses.

At the time of his death, Moog was starting to work on a way to stream audio directly in to the cerebral cortex. This, of course, would be VERY cool for music, even for Total Eclipse of the Heart, but even better for the hearing impaired.

In the first season of the new Dr. Who SPOILER ALERT…….

…..

….

….

the Doctor and Rose end up on a satellite station. There, people have implants put in to their foreheads. At any signal of their choosing (a word, snapping fingers etc.), a device opened up in their foreheads that allowed a direct stream of data to enter the end; doing the signal closed it again so that it was undetecable. It looked way cool and if we humans don’t utterly destroy ourselves sometime soon, I can see it happening.

[retreats back to SciFi nerd dark space]

I mean, doesn’t an “interface” have to have a part where the computer talks back to the user, or zaps the ocular nerve, or tweaks the hypothalamus, or whatever? You know, “output?”

And wouldn’t the transhumanists be much more amusing easier to deal with if we had them all hooked up to a central controller high-speed network?

Bring on the neural interfaces, I say.

Our Future Lives

Life as a set of floating arms looks peachy.

That’s bad, right? [fiddles with universal remote, hits hotkey embedding video of the Glennbot's future] “>