Author: Don Nigroni

Abby,
As you know, I never liked your husband and tried to talk you out of marrying him. But I never told you that, when we were kids and he lived next door, I once spied him in his backyard slicing the legs off a turtle he had put on its back.
Last month, he told me that we should fear death but not for the reason that people think. He claimed that consciousness is immortal but that that’s a horrible curse.
According to him, our mind, once separated from our physical body, no longer remains on this planet since gravity keeps our body here as our planet hurls through space while our mind goes along for the ride only as long as it’s connected to a physical body.
And without a biological human brain, we’d be worse off than a newborn baby with no memory, no language, no thoughts and no perceptions other than self-awareness. We’d be helpless, alone and lost in space.
But the only way to avoid this bleak fate is to transfer your consciousness to a cryogenically preserved human body as your consciousness is separated from your own body by death and before the electrochemical reactions in the revived specimen’s brain can generate a new consciousness.
He explained that it all had to do with the exact alignment of the two brains and the precise timing of the death of my current brain and the reviving of my future brain. Once I was dead then my consciousness would be released from my brain and stay in place as the earth moved away from me. However, the preserved brain would then pass through my suspended consciousness and that nascent brain would grab my mind.
I thought that was such a weird and creepy idea. However, as you know, I’ve recently reconsidered a lot of things. So last week I raised that topic with your husband, and he laughed in my face and I felt foolish.
But yesterday, he asked me to stop by his neurobiological lab, and this morning showed me a cryogenically preserved body. I was afraid to ask how in God’s name he came by a young and heathy cryogenically preserved specimen.
He told me, “I could transfer your consciousness into this mindless body tomorrow if you wanted a new lease on life. Of course, you’ll have his memories and speak his language, but he had 20/20 eyesight, no maladies and was a damn good soccer player.”
So what if I’ll speak Spanish. And I suspect he wants to experiment on me before trying it out on himself someday. But I don’t know how he’ll dispose of my cancer-ridden flesh and bones and I don’t care.
Love, Tommy