To Live Forever? Vampires, Zombies, Cyborgs, Cryogenics and the Fountain of Youth
To Live Forever. And ever and ever and ever. . .
I’m scared. I’m scared to die without ever really living. I’m scared to face my imminent demise. I want to live forever and do a thousand different things. I want to taste the sweet nectar of immortality.
So, how do I live forever? Hollywood would tell me to become a vampire. Not such a bad idea. But how do you become a vampire? Is there paperwork involved? Do vampires really get hot chicks, like Kristen Stewart, in real life?
I tend to doubt it. Last time I checked, Kristen dates humans in real life, not vampires. Strike one against becoming a vampire. Strike two is that I would thirst for human blood. I don’t even like seeing my own blood. Not to toot my own horn, but I have given blood a few times. I feel sick the whole time. I can’t look at the long tube draining me of my life-force. I have to hold back a gag reflex when I see those little test-tubes filled to the brim with crimson fluid. Lastly, strike three is that I’m just too goofy to be a vampire. I’m not mysterious, nor will I ever be.
I think this would have been better than the actual movie.
Another possibility is that I could freeze myself. The downside is that I would be cold and also that everyone might forget about me. Or worse, I could freeze in some embarrassing position, and someone would put me on display in their house. They’d giggle at me and invite their friends over to see. Their kids would taunt me, knowing I’d be unable to fight back. Freezing is definitely a “no.”
I’m pretty sure zombies live forever, except that they’re technically dead. This one is a bit paradoxical. I could always decide to become a zombie as a “plan B.” Being undead would be better than being dead, but not much better. I think the best part of being a zombie is that you don’t feel guilt. You can eat all the brains you want, and you’ll never be remorseful.
While you don’t feel remorse, you also don’t really feel anything at all. I mean, you’re basically a walking corpse. Conversation-wise, forget about it. You just can’t talk to a zombie. “Brain-this” and “brains-that.” Zombies don’t contribute much to social gatherings besides shock value.
Do not watch this alone or late at night. You have been warned.
If I became part robot, like "Krang," then I could live forever. But I would have to say goodbye to my human body, which I have grown quite fond of. Krang, who appeared as one of the primary villains in the “Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles” cartoon series, is a gurgly-voiced talking brain with little arms who controls a gigantic robot body.
Krang lives in a humongous dome-shaped fortress near the earth’s core, with his “partner” Shredder. I don’t actually think they’re a couple; Krang appears to lack the appropriate organs for sexual intercourse. But sometimes their banter comes off like my grandparents arguing with each other about “what’s for supper.” If I were to live forever, I would not want to live near the Earth’s core in a cold and unfurnished military vessel with an unappreciative know-it-all like Shredder.
While it would be awesome to be as big and strong as Krang’s robot body allows him to be, I think it would be difficult to find a girlfriend. Sure, she might like the way I could easily destroy her enemies, but who would want to spoon with a 50 foot tall robot? She could take my slimy disembodied brain out of it’s protective robot casing and put it in the bed next to her, but go back and read the first half of this sentence. Would you want to do that?
Is this really eleven minutes long?
My last option would be to discover the famed “Fountain of Youth.” This one sounds foolproof. But where is this fountain? It’s clearly not near this computer, or in the general vicinity of my home, because I would have found it already. This seems like a lost cause.
Even if I did find the Fountain of Youth, I don’t know if I’d drink from it. I’d hate to watch everyone I ever cared about die, one after another. Living forever would be emotionally painful. It would be lonely.
I think there’s a certain urgency in having a limit to one’s lifespan. I already procrastinate; imagine if I had until the end of time to do the things I plan to do? I’d never do them. ‘Cause there’s always tomorrow when you live forever. I’m getting fat? I can go on a diet next eon. There's no sense of immediacy. So, you know what? Give me the uncertainty of a life that could end any day of any year. After all, the sweet tastes so much sweeter when you know it won’t last forever.
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