What could possibly go wrong?
Posted on 02/25/2015 7:33:09 AM PST by BenLurkin
The holiday of the future will still provide memories of strolls along sunny beaches, the sensation of sand between your toes and the peaceful rush of the ocean, but there will be one crucial difference.
You won't have ever actually been away - in fact you might not have even left your home.
Instead, people will download memories to their brains to make them feel as if they have been on a sun-kissed holiday.
...
All this will be made possible by significant advancements in our understanding of the brain.
..
And crucially, our knowledge of the map of neural connections in the brain, known as the connectome, is rapidly improving.
This is thanks to machines such as MRI scanners that can see which parts of the brain light up as a person performs different activities.
‘In the short term, we’re going to be able to connect our minds to computers, so that we’ll be able to control exoskeletons,’ he said.
‘We’ll be able to perform primitive forms of telepathy, we’ll eventually record memories, and then Alzheimer's patients will be able to push a button and memories will flood in.
‘Beyond that, the Internet will be replaced by the “Brain-net”, where you can convey emotions and memories rather than just text.’
(Excerpt) Read more at dailymail.co.uk ...
This will only become reality when they can first implant having sex with Pamela Anderson (or the female of your choice)
The premise to Total Recall; vacation on Mars anyone?
What could possibly go wrong?
Actually, I’ve been hoping that the last 6 years are just the result of a drug induced stupor/coma that I have been enduring. I eagerly await the sobering.
I thought of the Prisoner episode AB&C.
Doesn’t sound like the vacation that I would load.
Gives new meaning to my favorite saying,
“Why should I travel? I’m already here!”
Until virtual vacations become feasible, youtube will have to suffice, with vids entitled “The Cruise Ship from Hell”, “Go Broke in Las Vegas”, “Europe Vacation: Muslims Everywhere”, “Jamaicans Hate White People”, “Surrounded by One Billion Chinese”, “Hawaii: Where Pineapples Have Attitude” and so on.
Anyone remember “Brainstorm” (tragically Natalie Wood’s last film)? This sort of thing has been speculated on for decades.
Does it include a hangover and a sunburn?
Yes I quite agree with you, I mean what's the point of being treated like a sheep, I mean I'm fed up with going abroad and being treated like a sheep, what's the point of being carted around in buses surrounded by sweaty mindless oafs from Kettering and Boventry in their cloth caps and their cardigans and their transistor radios and their 'Sunday Mirrors', complaining about the tea, 'Oh they don't make it properly here do they not like at home' stopping at Majorcan bodegas, selling fish and chips and Watney's Red Barrel and calamares and two veg and sitting in cotton sun frocks squirting Timothy White's suncream all over their puffy raw swollen purulent flesh cos they 'overdid it on the first day'! And being herded into endless Hotel Miramars and Bellvueses and Bontinentals with their international luxury modern roomettes and their Watney's Red Barrel and their swimming pools full of fat German businessmen pretending they're acrobats and forming pyramids and frightening the children and barging in to the queues and if you're not at your table spot on seven you miss your bowl of Campbell's Cream of Mushroom soup, the first item on the menu of International Cuisine, and every Thursday night there's a bloody cabaret in the bar featuring some tiny emaciated dago with nine-inch hips and some big fat bloated tart with her hair brylcreemed down and a big arse presenting Flamenco for Foreigners. And then some adenoidal typists from Birmingham with diarrhoea and flabby white legs and hairy bandy-legged wop waiters called Manuel, and then, once a week there's an excursion to the local Roman ruins where you can buy cherryade and melted ice cream and bleedin' Watney's Red Barrel, and one night they take you to a local restaurant with local colour and colouring and they show you there and you sit next to a party of people from Rhyl who keeps singing 'Torremolinos, Torremolinos' and complaining about the food - 'Oh! It's so greasy isn't it?' and then you get cornered by some drunken greengrocer from Luton with an Instamatic and Dr Scholl sandals and last Tuesday's 'Daily Express' and he drones on and on and on about how Mr. Smith should be running this country and how many languages Enoch Powell can speak and then he throws up all over the Cuba Libres. And sending tinted postcards of places they don't know they haven't even visited, 'to all at number 22, weather wonderful, our room is marked with an "X". Wish you were here.' 'Food very greasy but we have managed to find this marvelous little place hidden away in the back streets.' 'Where you can even get Watney's Red Barrel and cheese and onion ..crisps and the accordionist plays "Maybe it's because I'm a Londoner"' and spending four days on the tarmac at Luton airport on a five-day package tour with nothing to eat but dried Watney's sandwiches... ...and there's nowhere to sleep and the kids are vomiting and throwing up on the plastic flowers and they keep telling you it'll only be another hour although your plane is still in Iceland waiting to take some Swedes to Yugoslavia before it can pick you up on the tarmac at 3 a.m. in the bloody morning and you sit on the tarmac till six because of 'unforeseen difficulties'. i.e. the permanent strike of Air Traffic Control in Paris, and nobody can go to the lavatory until you take off at eight, and when you get to Malaga airport everybody's swallowing Enterovioform tablets and queuing for the toilets and when you finally get to the hotel, there's no water in the taps, there's no water in the pool, there's no water in the bog and there's a bleeding lizard in the bidet, and half the rooms are double-booked and you can't sleep anyway...
Mmmmmm no. Somebody will actually have to do the vacation to have the memories to buy, and while people like going to the same destination friends previously they won’t be as interested in having the same memories.
“STOP THIS BLOODY SKETCH!!!!!” (screeching needle dragged across the record)
..................
“And now, for something completely different.”
I want a guarantee to leave the annoying, drunk, moronic leftist relatives out of the data and that I can pick my own cabana boy.
This idiot was at my school last week, spouting off his global warming/warmunism nonsense...fortunately, Bob Costas was forced to reschedule...
Yes. And an unexpected tattoo.
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