Transporters. I have been asked many times about transporters and the subject is an interesting one, so I entertain it every time. Yes, we are talking about Star Trek transporters which work on the principle of KILLING you by breaking you down into digital information, storing you in a RAM buffer and then reassembling you in a different location. Cool, very cool, but you still die every time you step into it. Would I step into it, oh fuck no. Think about being disassembled and reassembled. Could it be possible to put you together exactly the same way every single time? Would your memories be completely intact every single time? What if the guy operating the gizmo is a malignant psychotic who thinks it’s funny to materialize multiple copies of you inside of the anus of elephants? Could you imagine the death that would await you a thousand times over being stuck with partially digested Savannah grass in an elephant’s digestive tract? Better yet, how about a pervert transporter operator who merges you with his mother’s tits so that you have his favourite toys on your back? Could you imagine the same guy rematerializing you with your vagina in the back of your head? Talk about skull-fucking.
The transporter is something you and I can do without. I am hoping that the discovery and eventual control of quarks leads to little more than a better morning after pill, otherwise we’re all going to end up as gelatinous blobs at the hands of depressed psychopaths.
Kevin Jackal Johnston
