“It only takes 2 hours,” “it won’t even hurt at all.”
I heard this from Simone for two weeks before my appointment. As advertised, they asked 33 questions. They filmed, and dissected, my reactions to each: how my voice changed and trembled, and the subtle movements of my micro-expressions–how my eyelashes flutter when flustered. The scientists seamlessly made a version of me. Simone is so terribly afraid of losing me, you see. Now, she never will. “As if you were ZOOMing for eternity” the sales guy told her from mall’s kiosk. “Eternity” she said kissing me goodnight. “Eternity,” I repeated.
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It won’t be long now until we can turn our loved ones into Avatars, whose mannerisms and voices are familiar to us. In times of great loss, will they bring us comfort or confusion? Will we introduce them their grand children? Will we keep them in the cloud like our parents, and their parents, kept their ancestors in leather-bound picture books?
Will Moore’s Law, or the law by another name, apply to them, so every two years, two months, two days, two seconds they will become better versions of themselves? Will we take solace in what they are scripted to say: that they long for us; they are proud of us, and that we will be together soon?
A Life of Wonder 