Wednesday, August 13, 2008

How I plan to Die (Personal Entry)

Date: 2200

Age: 200+

(Aren't we all? At least those who are allowed to be on Facebook today, that is.)

We will have to die eventually, even when medical science advances our life expectancies faster than we age.

I have reason to believe that by 2200, I will have accomplished all I've ever wanted to in life. (That ought to be plenty of time for anything in any case.)

Therefore, it would be time for me to move to the next plane of existence.

Plan A

If we're fighting an extraterrestrial form of Al-Qaeda in some star system over 25 light-years away, I'll enlist onto a starfighter squadron and go brazenly all-out on the enemies until any of them manage to kill me.

However, I'll bet that by 2200, the automated med-ships of my United Federation of Planets (or whoever I'll fight for) will:

1. Find my body floating in space,
2. Teleport me back to a resuscitation vat,
3. Mend me back together (with micro-robotic surgical claws, etc.)
4. Upload a pre-saved personality of mine (with memories and all) into my new brain,
5. And bring me back to life, good as new (in the bodily condition of a 20-year-old) in less than 30 minutes.

(As for #4, a pre-saved personality will surely be a very recent one because a bedside mindscanner will record my dreams and save my memories every night.)

Plan B

If THAT happens, I will simply transcend into a higher being made of energy by going to some kind of a transcendence center. If Humankind can't invent one by then (and lets hope we will thanks to a TS), I will probably try to find one on any alien's planet I visit.

(I can't plan this)

If nobody has such a thing anywhere, I'll probably fly into a black hole and be GUARANTEED to be done with life! No, wait, that's tantamount to "suicide," and I learned when I was little that anyone who commits suicide will be sent to Hell. (Disclaimer: The Bible does not say this anywhere, but Thou Shalt Not Kill, even when it involves yourself.)

Plan C

I should maybe fly to a part of the galaxy so remote, no UFP med-ship will find me. Then I find a war, join a side, and die in battle again. I'll bet my bodily physiology will be so strange and unfamiliar to aliens many thousands of light-years away, that their med-bots will not know how to bring me back to life and will therefore simply give me an honorable burial in one of their research centers for extraterrestrial studies. I might become their "Little Green Man" in their Roswell. (Though not green, and not little, at ~72 inches tall.)

No, maybe I ought to scratch that again. They could scan and analyze my body, and learn how to resuscitate it, being as advanced as they are. Now I know what to do:

Plan D

Find a planet whose inhabitants' societal and technological level is no more than that of our society's in the year 2010, and participate in one of their wars there. They won't have the technology to resurrect me.

Potentially, my starfighter can win all of my side's wars singlehandedly, but my ammo and/or fuel could run out, then I'd have to land and start using their antiquated weapons. Then I'd finally have a chance to die! Or not; their star's solar rays could recharge my engine and phaser banks. Someone would have to shoot me down, but that'll be useless; my energy shields would deflect them all.

Plan E

I guess I'd then have to:

1. Resist the urge to use my weapons any longer
2. Therefore give my starfighter to their planet's equivalent of The Smithsonian
3. Join their army and use their primitive weapons and armor
4. And finally die alongside them in battle.


There ought to not be a way out of THAT one.

How do YOU plan to die?

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