The human body is a complex and many splendored thing and sadly we all know too well that the body can easily be rendered a deficient and many splintered thing, weep. If some terrible doom of man should befall you tomorrow and leave you without your sight, would you honestly refuse to have it restored out of fear that it would dehumanise you? Injuries, illnesses and all their ilk are about as debasing state of affairs as you can get, in a world that caters towards the perfectly healthy and able-bodied, such things are only apparent when once again I have to navigate myself around such an unforgiving terrain with a suitcase that I cannot carry.
Of course we can all get caught up with the demonisation of the machine and that terror that comes with the prevalence of technology in the modern world. None more so than myself, for it was less than a year ago I finally succumbed to the pressures of this age and purchased a laptop preferring the romance of the pen avec paper and the freedom from being so damn contactable all the time. I was a coy mistress that eventually allowed myself to be seduced by technology, on the basis, that in spite of the unfathomable mechanisms on which it operated, it was essentially life-enhancing. I think the final temptation that led me to surrender my old fashioned virtues, was when the iPhone swanned into my life changing it for the better forevermore. Nowadays the thought of journeying to some unknown location without the comfort of Google maps is one of dismay. In addition to the sheer convenience and the improvement to the quality of our lives, technology also offers us improvement to the longevity of our lives. The increasing sophistication of advances in medical technology can only be a good thing, for the meaning of life is nothing without life itself and could well consist in life and all that goes with the great tapestry of. From the discovery of penicillin to the first vaccine for tuberculosis, clever chaps and mysterious medicines have been saving our bacon for decades.
Do we really pine for the 'good old days' when life ended at the mere age 40 rather than (according to vogue phrase) began? I know people in their early forties who in appearance and demeanour wouldn't raise any suspicions to having set sail from the decade of the twenty-something’s and are utterly brilliant. Would it not be a travesty if these people were awaiting their demise if still around at all? I for one am eternally inspired by the stunning examples of persons who are as radiant, debauched and fabulous as when they were in the bloom of youth, or in many cases, even more so and out shadow their counterparts in succeeding generations. Rather than despair at thought of becoming older, on the contrary, I am quite looking forward to learning what my prospering worldliness will add to my style, personality and propensity for anecdotes. Of late, it has been more and more modish finally for society to foster a respect for their elders and the wisdom they can convey and you are hearing increasingly often that life begins at 60.
Currently life expectancy data suggests a figure of 79, for us citizens of the United Kingdom to hope to obtain. I am fairly unenamoured of this idea as my great great Aunt Toot, lived to the grand old age of 104, so you could say this has given me great expectations of Dickensian proportions. As a prolific purveyor of lists such as myself (for without them, we are but listless), I penned (or perhaps more accurately since my conversation, typed) a brief (several thousand words no less) summary of my life manifesto. An elongated number of days are required if I am to keep to the many plans I have for the future, heaven forbid that I am prevented from enjoying my spells living in Paris, Berlin, Tokyo, Barcelona and Buenos Aires by a lack of time. But beyond this desire for embellishing the quantity of my days, this technology could also vastly polish the quality of them too.
In terms of aesthetics purely it is easy to rally against artifice to honour this idea of eminence of the natural, I myself have taken the stance against cosmetic surgery for fear of being unfaithful to the way I was born, quite a ridiculous notion, considering that I have for years fashioned hair colours light years lighter than my own, taken to extensions in the past for hair, nails and lashes and am currently donning between 2-3 pairs of false eyelashes every single day. Clearly not a look I acquired at birth, my mother has the photos to prove it should I ever obscenely suggest otherwise (reminiscent of Lady Gaga's mantra I feel). But let's move beyond vanity, in favour of the much more useful and potentially humanitarian traits of performance and endurance.
Sentimentality might make me think I want to be all flesh and bone, a combination of my parents genetics created out of love or some such trite but evidence suggests otherwise, from a copious consumption of caffeine, to the swallowing of ginseng for that more 'natural' source of energy, I am even quite fond of a Boots own brand, called 'Sharp Mind' to prevent myself from my oldest habit in the box, daydreaming, ah bliss.
I have never been interested in mediocrity, I have sought in all areas to prove that I could take extremes, whether it be long periods sans sleep to achieving more with my time than my peers, a good example is rather than contenting myself with going to pub for a drink, I would instead be victorious as the last person standing after a 14-hour pub crawl, despite being markedly more petite than anyone else involved in the spree. Despite constantly being told not to burn the candle at both ends, I do, and no matter how hard I try, I end up being a rubbish socialite as I am currently not superhuman or in possession of the relevant remedies that would make it seem I was such. Imagine the possibilities with this nouveau science and electronics.
If someone wanted to bestow upon me some disco legs so that I may dance for days (and with more skill and finesse than I do at present) I would bestow a kiss upon them and my gratitude ever after. I would not use this for frivolous means; I would dance for all to see, in the most amusing manner, especially when in the company of people who seemed depressed. Let’s look at the example of Oscar Pistorious, the runner with the artificial legs who is the world record holder for 100, 200 and 400m. In fact he was so good, he got banned from competing. If I was blessed with such speed, punctuality would no longer be a problem and I could carve a new career out of chasing thieves and returning handbags, wallets and phones to their rightful owners. In fact since his exclusion, this is what Pistorious should be doing, I hear theft in South Africa is rife.
Perhaps a chip in my brain could allow me to become the wisest and most knowledgeable inhabitant of the land, I would devote myself to the life of a wandering minstrel, conveying all that I knew to all for the betterment of mankind. Or one day, I may be so fortunate to be electronically sensitive to the atmosphere around me in social gatherings and music could emanate from my body gloriously and in perfect harmony with what everyone needed for optimum happiness. The positive prospects of the new technologies are endless if not handled by corrupt hands and I think for many that's where the real foreboding lays. But really are not most people all striving for perfection and self-betterment and are not one of our biggest obstacles to accomplishing it are our mental and bodily limitations? I say yes, yes and if I could remove my impediments through technology (which I am already doing anyway) then I would most certainly would.