The Metamorphosis of Prime Intellect: a novel of the singularity

by Roger Williams

In the best possible future, there will be no war, no famine, no crime, no sickness, no oppression, no fear, no limits, no shame...and nothing to do

"It must be a terrible burden to have such a closed mind. I know I can think, but I sometimes wonder how people like you, who refuse to see what is in front of your faces, can make the same claim. You certainly present no evidence of the ability."

"They're going to turn you off. They don't think you have practical applications because you won't kill.

Lawrence's passion had been more finely directed than the mechanical humping and blind chance that brought forth human children.

He wanted to smell the grass, to experience the soft breezes and the harsh afternoon sunlight. He had done very little of that in his odd, computer-centered life. And he didn't know how much longer those things would be possible.

In the end, Lawrence decided that the toboggan ride of technological progress had really begun long ago when some caveman decided to tame fire.

I no longer consider myself human and have not considered myself human since the time of the Change. To be a human being you have to have something to fight, to resist, to work for. But now we have everything given to us, and all there is left to do is mark time."

Which was better? To string it out as long as possible, as he had been doing, or to get it over with one way or the other?

"It was the worst thing ever. Nothing mattered. Not pain, not accomplishments, not anything."

I've worn many different sets of tattoos myself. But these are the ones that matter to me, because these are the ones I'll die with.