Dystopian Futures and Dreams of Longevity

It’s been a rough week with my tooth.

You know when the dentist gives you a temporary fix that you hope is more permanent than temporary? Well, my food pocket, that has caused a nerve problem, is definitely causing something temporary.

For the last week, I have been downing ibuprofen and Tylenol to deal with the nerve pain that has ensued. It got to the point that bending down to perform certain tasks resulted in that area being aggravated. For the last couple of nights, I have had to sleep upright to mitigate the aggravation.

I will be en route later on today to learn the fate of one, or maybe two teeth, depending on the X-rays. I’m anticipating at least one extraction. That’s fine with me. I still have plenty of teeth in there, and if I eventually have to get a partial, then so be it.

About 10 years ago a senior dentist told me, before he yanked my tooth out, that we are all falling apart. Thanks. I really appreciated the dystopian perspective on all things orthodontic.

It reminds me of David Cronenberg’s remake of The Fly, where scientist Seth Brundle did not do his due diligence in checking the telepod in which he was using to transport himself to the adjacent one. There was a fly occupying his space, and in the process of disassembling and reassembling his matter in transportation, he and the fly merged.

At first, Seth feels great. He has gained superhuman strength, stamina, and sexual prowess. But gradually, as we see the good scientist morph into “BrundleFly”, he is losing his nails, his hair, his skin, and his teeth. He is becoming ugly and unrecognizable.

As he descends into madness, Seth’s human ability to be compassionate and empathize wanes. He becomes increasingly violent, and at the point where his BrundleFly being is about to be fully actualized, he begins a battle to take with him on his journey the love of his life, science journalist Veronica Quaife who is pregnant with their child, at all cost.

Meanwhile, Stathis Borans, Veronica’s editor and former love interest, becomes curious and later horrified when he learns of Seth’s experiment. This sets the stage for the final confrontation.

Seth wants to fuse himself, Veronica, and the unborn baby into one being. To do this, all three must enter into a telepod and go through a fusion process that he creates. Veronica resists and rips off his jawbone, revealing the full BrundleFly form. As Seth pulls her toward the pod, Stathis bursts into the lab with a shotgun. Seth disarms him as he dissolves a foot and hand of Stathis by vomiting a digestive enzyme (earlier in the film Seth videos the process of how flies eat).

Stathis manages to get the rifle back, shoots and destroys the telepod cables right at the time Seth has activated the fusion process. The telepod opens, and Seth’s half destroyed body emerges.

Crawling toward the two, Seth takes the end of the same rifle Veronica is now holding and lifts it to his head. Sobbing uncontrollably, Veronica pulls the trigger.

No, I am not going to transform into Williams Fly. I would never engage in such an endeavor, and even if I did, I would hope that I had people there to ensure there were no uninvited guests in my pod.

Besides, I am an artist not a scientist, and even then, I highly doubt I would use myself to make some incredible discovery with dreams of winning a Nobel Prize and to dance on the world stage. I’m simply acknowledging that I am one in a gazillion terrestrials that are moving along in the aging process, and some things will inevitably leave my body.

Out of our human fear and curiosity we have dreamed of machines that can transform our bodies into something better, stronger, faster (sounds like the Six Million Dollar Man), that are built to last enabling us to have a highly quality of life well into our twilight years.

As we are maladjusted to the natural environment, so is our way with the aging process. We color the silver and gray hairs, buy ointments and creams to cover up moles and blemishes, and fork over tremendous amounts of cash to the cosmetic surgery industry. We laugh about cracking knees and other assorted bones getting up from our chairs and using 3-n-1 oil to lubricate our joints, pulling hamstrings while we sleep, and spraining our backs while sneezing.

Our average life expectancy is 78.9 years, and we are going along kicking and screaming. Our society, which has never been good at taking care of our seniors, is not ready for us. We are living longer, and financially it is getting precarious. Both caregiving and mortality is big business, while many average Americans will be receiving the short end of the stick.

Which feeds into the existential question of why we are here, what is our purpose? Seth the scientist is locked into his purpose to improve the way we live, and perhaps part of his mission would be to have the mental and physical facility to work until he transitions from this plane. Many of us would be so lucky. Clint Eastwood is an example of those who will drive their passion to the end.

Maybe tucked away in secret cellars underneath wine cellars within sprawling estates are labs where experiments are taking place. Maybe there are research animals being used to teleport from one pod to another. Maybe there are white coats who are developing anti-aging serums.

We may posit that Jeff Bezos, Elon Musk, Richard Branson, and all the other eccentric titans have such facilities at their disposal. But if we had the means, would we do the same?

If that fly wasn’t there, what would Seth have become? Would he have transformed into a highly enhanced version of himself, and who would have access to that technology – other than the global wealthy elites?

I would look forward to an indestructible set of chompers myself.