The Adventures of a Transhumanist

Joseph Sterlynne (
Mon, 25 Oct 1999 16:35:08 -0600

Anders, this was excellent. You actually beat me to it with the cryonics bracelet, wearable computer, infinite points bits, and some of the story (I was going to use that if I wrote the episode after restart). I am happy that you didn't resist.

(Since not everyone, I assume, appreciates this sort of thing appearing with high frequency note that I here anticipate remarks that it is offtopic or at least offformat.)


> examine sign

It is old and pitted, but you can read:

              Founded 1999

         Or get out of the way.

You suddenly feel very afraid.

> gulp

You successfully sound like Tom realizing that Jerry, whom you are about to smash with a broom, is sitting on the shoulder of the bulldog.

> east

You stand in the ruins of an old city. Around you eerie dark buildingslook down on you, and the wind whistles through empty windows. To the west a huge pyramid towers above the ruins.

There is a pile of books here.

> take books

Most of them crumble when you try to pick them up. Underneath the pile there is one book which appears to be in better condition than the others.

> take book


> inventory

You are carrying:
a futuristic book

You are wearing:
a cryonics bracelet
fragments of a business suit

> read book

You can't understand it.

> turn book upside down

Ah. Things begin to make sense. The book, published in 2012, appears to be a scholarly history of something called the Singularity Research Institute. There is some discussion of distributed computing projects, Moore's Second Law, and the runaway word processor macro which wiped out Denver. You flip to the last page. It reads:

We could of begun, to prepair for the singularity year's ago. But we would of been taking the project's chance's of succes's to seriously. :) We should remmember, that idea's like thi's are just unreechable holy grail's, and that people will always's have fantasy's about technorapture occuring, at some unsuspecting moment. And since we'll probably never meet the dreaded black beast of . . . aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!

The book ends there.

> west

You stand at an electric fence at the foot of the pyramid. Inside is what looks like a minefield. To the north, east and south there are only ruins.

There is a sign here.

> examine fence

It looks pretty sturdy. It has a gate with a notice which reads, in official-looking lettering, "Electric Fence. No, really."

> open gate. through gate. close gate.

Done. Done. Done.

You are standing in a dusty no-man's-land between the ominous black pyramid and a fence. You can see a small door on the side of the pyramid.

> score

Your score is 7 out of a possible Aleph Null. Come on! Are you thinking in a Bose-Einstein condensate or something?

> west

You take a few steps toward the pyramid.

> west

You take a few steps toward the pyramid.

> west

You take a few steps toward the pyramid.

> west

You take a few steps toward the pyramid.

Apparently the people who laid out the minefield didn't think that anyone would try to walk in a straight line through it.

Security Door
You are standing at a portal on the side of the Singularity Research Institute pyramid. You do not see any handles or windows. A small speaker is embedded in the smooth ebony.

The door detects your presence and you can, through the wall, hear heavy bolts sliding into place. A metallic voice says: "Perimeter check. Password, please."

> say "towards ascension!"

Nothing happens. "Incorrect password."

> say "media frenzy"

More bolts slide into place. "Incorrect password."

> say "what, me worry?"

The speaker chimes: "Thank you!" The bolts fall away and the door opens, revealing a dark and cavernous room.

> enter pyramid

Extropy Mailing List Museum
This room appears to commemorate the people and discussions of the old Extropy Internet mailing list. Behind dust-covered glass lie pictures, printouts, books, spent cartridges, computers, and caffeine pills. Portraits and genetic maps of venerated participants hang nobly on the walls. Lovecraftian murals lavishly depict the glorious intellectual struggles that were won and lost and that dragged on forever and ever and ever.

You have the strangest feeling that you've been here before. . . .