A long time ago, during one of those “deep” conversations one has from time to time, a friend asked if I would choose immortality, if it were an option. I replied, “Not if I had to stay poor.” I didn’t want to spend the rest of eternity working miserable jobs, barely getting by, constantly asking myself, “Is this really better than being dead?” I mean sure, dying is often an awful, awful experience, and it’s certainly not one I’m looking forward to — but the prospect of eventually not existing anymore seems like kind of a relief. I mean, look at the world we live in; who’d want to stay here forever?
Oh yeah, rich people. Well, this is good news for them, I guess. Though I suspect that the won’t see it that way. I’m sure they’ll be the first to tell you that their lack of immortality just isn’t fair. But of course, they’re working on that.
Imagine a future where we underclass people are born directly into our graves, while the world is run by a bunch of omnipotent, immortal AI’s whose personalities were all patterned on rule-breaking narcissists who were so afraid of death that they experimented on their own bodies, and eventually had their minds uploaded into machines.
Actually, someone should probably write that up. I think it’d make a better TV show than a novel, but I’m too lazy to work on either, so do whatever.