Should we toil at drudgery, day in and day out, only to have machines artificially keep us alive so that we can scrabble another root or tuber from a barren, lifeless landscape? What is the point of life without laughter, or happiness, or contentment?
Can you possibly be so jaded that you don't consider the QUALITY of life, more than just the number of days of a bleak, forbidding, horrific and joyless existence? Is it better to live more swiftly in an Eden, then it is to live a few more months in a gray, bleak, hopeless Gulag?
Laz, we’ll still have plenty of Party Buffoons. That should be enough for us.