The Last Post(penmachine.com)
penmachine.com
The Last Post
https://www.penmachine.com/2011/05/the-last-post
7 comments
https://web.archive.org/web/20230504010858/https://www.penma...
I have a reminder on my personal calendar, randomly set to May 3rd, to read this post once every year to think about it and get grounded.
Thank you so much for sharing. I'd never heard of Derek or Pen Machine but needed to read exactly this.
Refreshing to read one of these from a scientific rationalist who doesn't descend into "I have gone to a better place" and who can direct the fear into the process to get to an endpoint, and thinking about being in the now, rationalising what happens after.
What happens is, he isn't there.
What happens is, he isn't there.
sigh
life is magical but it's duration is unknown. And it gets a little greyer as one ages. Plan for tomorrow, but pay attention to today because one never knows. It's not what you get, it's who you help.
life is magical but it's duration is unknown. And it gets a little greyer as one ages. Plan for tomorrow, but pay attention to today because one never knows. It's not what you get, it's who you help.
Quite often I am crippled with the idea that at a certain moment I will cease to exist. The moment the neurons stop firing. No more. I cannot imagine not imaging anymore. I like to think. I like to solve problems.
Yet one day, no more. And while I can look at a computer that hasn't been plugged in in 5 years, I cannot imagine what it must feel.
I wish I could upload my conscience to a computer. While it would be a copy of me, at least that copy could continue to learn and think.
Yet one day, no more. And while I can look at a computer that hasn't been plugged in in 5 years, I cannot imagine what it must feel.
I wish I could upload my conscience to a computer. While it would be a copy of me, at least that copy could continue to learn and think.
My family has spent the last few billion years reproducing only if they found nonexistence unimaginable or terrifying. While I am one of them, and while I try to not blame myself for it, I resent the amount of time I spend considering how I feel about this, how I will feel the moment I die, and how many times more I will anxiously consider this between now and then.
On the other hand, I hope to giggle when I realize how similar dying is to falling asleep. Each day, I am no more.
I think my inclination towards digital hoarding is, at least in part, a refutation of my mortality and as close to the singularity as I will ever get.
On the other hand, I hope to giggle when I realize how similar dying is to falling asleep. Each day, I am no more.
I think my inclination towards digital hoarding is, at least in part, a refutation of my mortality and as close to the singularity as I will ever get.