|I could be a cute robot, but that would be weird.|
Yes, it's a horrifying idea, but ponder this - some scientists believe that they'll be able to make people live forever. This could happen in our lifetime. But think about it - do you really want to be immortal in the body you have? Chronic pain condition, bad ankles, bad knees, bad back and neck, nearsighted as fuck - screw immortality, scientists need to get on making my body work well before I consider staying in it for more than the standard 8 decades or so.
But an android body that we know how to maintain and fix? Sign me up.
His Awesomeness and I started discussing this while we were crammed into tiny airplane seats on a visit to his family (the only travel my health has allowed for a few years). I was probably thinking about it because the latest migraine-preventing meds gave me such severe vertigo that I had to stop taking it. Because, of course it did. Other medications that failed to prevent my migraines have brought side effects such as extreme sleepiness, extreme wakefulness, suicidal thoughts (not impulses, just thoughts - weird one, that), and a permanently droopy eyelid. Add to that the meds that didn't have side effects, but didn't help either, and bring on the RoboJen.
To his credit, HA says that he'd want me uploaded into am android that looks just like me. It's probably those tiny airline seats talking, but I'd want RoboJen to be thinner than I am so that air travel and public transportation were more comfortable.
But that bugs me. I don't torture myself with diets that don't work in an attempt to appease the assholes who have a beef with fat people. So why should I do it when it comes to imaginary RoboJen? I don't feel like I'm letting down the cause of Health At Every Size. It's just that bowing to assholes bugs the shit out of me.
In this case, the asshole include the airlines who have made seats more and more unpleasant so that we'll pony up for first class. After the pix of the horrible hexagon airline seating plan circulated online, I decided to give in. Even though that seating plan may never see the light of day or be implemented in the US. If a picture of airline seats makes me claustrophobic, then I give up. For this year's trip to the Midwest, we're taking Amtrak with a private sleeper roommette. Paying for extra legroom or even first class may be in my future. Or maybe Valium so I don't mind flying coach so much.
Of course, if I could afford a robot body, then I could afford first class.
A healthy me (especially in android form) would be a very different me. But becoming RoboJen would be a change that benefits me. Becoming a skinner RoboJen would also benefit me, but only in the sense that sadistic airlines wouldn't be able to bully me into upgrading to First Class.
I just read the lovely short story Today I Am Paul by Martin L. Shoemaker in Clarkesworld magazine. It's told from the point of view of a caretaker android that can change its appearance and behavior to simulate whoever his dementia-siffering patient thinks he is. So now my ideal RoboJen would look like me, but would contract into a skinny person for airline travel, pulling children out of well, etc.
Because if I'm going to have a robot body, then I'm going to have it all.
Would you want a robot body? Would it look just like you? Tell me in the comments.