Friday, 16 November 2012

Journal: YC114.11.17

It's... astonishing just how heavily augmented I am.

Quite aside from the usual quintet of capsuleer improved-grade cortical performance enhancers, my clones are now outfitted as standard with a dizzying array of upgrades.

Ceramic bone lacing, myopolymer muscle weave, bloodstream oxygenation nanites, synthetic nephritic filters, microscale faraday mesh in my dermis that feeds into an ukomi superconductor in my spine that feeds to a charge sink near the lumbar-sacral junction, a spectrometer in my nasal turbinates...

or, in layman's terms, my skeleton is bullet-resistant, I'm 25% stronger than an ordinary man in my physical condition and don't need to exercise to maintain my body, I can hold my breath for an hour, I can smell toxic substances before I inhale or consume them, and even if I did most of them wouldn't hurt me, and if somebody were to try and shock prod or taze me it'd do precisely nothing.

People think transhuman has to mean leaving humanity behind. But here I am, about to go out for a drink with acquaintances tomorrow night, after visiting my sister, brother-in-law and niece during the day, and I spent today in my workshop tinkering with a research project for fun and, admittedly, flirting with some people. least, I'm pretty certain that was flirting.

Trans human. that's the key part. All the best bits of life, and all the worst bits mitigated. We've got to start clawing the term back from the people who've hijacked it and turned it into a horror story.

Save. End.

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