So I follow a long, tightly packed line of people through narrow hallways. Bulkheads protrude over our shoulders, packed with the last few possessions we were permitted to carry with us. I grow concerned

But you were different, Bert. It was much more difficult for me to get my hand into your head far enough to move your mouth than it was when I manipulated your good friend. I wanted only you as my puppet,

So we’re still living longer and longer… I’m not interested in writing about living forever from a global resource standpoint. I think there’s about 200 films that already do that. But I’m still fascinated

If my memory wasn’t pretty much perfect, I doubt I would remember any fears of mortality at all. I might say that was lifetimes ago. If you’re reading this, then obviously from where I’m sitting, I don’t

The hastily marketed memory templates really got people thinking. It turns out they were useless and I’m betting most of the early-adapters knew they were useless – but they brought so much hope. Just