body modifications
A form of transhumanism, body modifications are made to enhance the human form.
In raptures about raptors policing our streets
Let’s take a short trip into the future. The year is 2045 and the CIA-seeded Moreau-esque brainchild of tech billionaires Palmer Luckey, founder of Oculus and Anduril Industries, and Ben Lamm, founder of Colossal Biosciences, announces the next generation in dystopian community policing... Waraptor.
By Steve Harrisonabout 20 hours ago in Futurism
Idol Speculation
This may be out there, but hear me out. Let’s chat about Elon Musk for a moment. I know, I know, bear with me. So, I think, by now, we all know there’s about seven gallons of pure crazy, trying to slosh around in a three-gallon bucket. Add massive overdoses of ketamine to the mix, and I think I see a pattern emerging.
By Meredith Harmon14 days ago in Futurism
Alchemical Elixir of Life: The Mindful Golden Flower of Liberation
To ancient Chinese masters, practicing intercourse was thought to be wasteful, impotent and useless. . . . One day, the Chinese Sun Goddess from Planet X, a vampire lady, came to destroy earth. However, she noticed it was already destroyed by the phones because everyone was addicted to them. . .
By SAMURAI SAM: Wild Wayne2 months ago in Futurism
Static Ovah the Kennebec
Linda always said Bowdoinham mornings looked like God forgot to turn the brightness up. Fog rolled in thick and low, swallowing the rivah, the trees, and half the Town Landing like it was tryin’ to erase the place one bite at a time. She stood theyah at 7:12 AM, sippin’ coffee that tasted like burnt driftwood and bad decisions, watchin’ the Kennebec breathe like some big creature sleepin’ under the surface.
By Syl De'Vil2 months ago in Futurism
Stitch: Saltwater Silence
Sara Foxgrove remembered the last normal moment of her childhood as something small and quiet. She sat on the back steps of her mother’s cabin 0n Popham Beach, peeling bark off a stick and pretending it was a wand, the kind that could call storms or open secret doors if she pointed it just right. The tide had pulled back far enough that the sandbar stretched toward Fox Island like a pale, exposed spine. Her mother, Mara, wasn’t home. Neither were her father or her brothers. They had left an hour earlier to drive into Bath for groceries and a part her father needed for the woodstove. They’d promised to be back before the tide turned. Sara had waved as the car disappeared down the dirt road, not knowing it was the last time she’d ever see them. The afternoon felt suspended, like the world was holding its breath. Even the gulls seemed quieter, circling lazily above the water as if waiting for something.
By Syl De'Vil2 months ago in Futurism
Complete (My Last) 180
I want to sculpt my body while I still have diabetes, just to prove that I can. This brand new, oddly motivating sentiment burrowed into my mind mere months ago and swirls around my psyche on the weekly, aerating its complex tasting notes like a savory glass of wine. Ever since the Eledon Twelve were cured of Type 1 Diabetes, the murky possibility that the last day of my life and my last dose of insulin may not share the same box on the calendar has transformed into an impending reality. A cure has been close at hand, advocates promised, every minute following my diagnosis eleven years ago, and I remained the rare cautious optimist while hunkering down for the long haul with spring-loaded needles, a fridge full of little glass bottles, and blaring blood sugar alarms. Thanks to the burgeoning development of anti-rejection drug Tegoprubart, a new era has dawned, and every last patient on the study who received pancreatic islet cell transplants has achieved the impossible: the spontaneous genesis of insulin within a Type 1 Diabetic body.
By Harbor Cecille2 months ago in Futurism
My $50,000 Dream
I walk the streets of my hometown I haven’t visited in several years, reminiscing about my childhood and youth spent here. I stop near my former home, a five-story apartment block, and look at the windows of my apartment. I had a pretty good life there with my mom and sister, and now I’m trying to imagine who lives there and if they enjoy the apartment as much as we did.
By Lana V Lynx2 months ago in Futurism
The Truth About Data Centers
Every time we send a message, stream a movie, ask an AI assistant a question, upload a photo, or buy something online, there is a good chance a data center is involved. Yet these enormous facilities are mostly invisible to us. They sit behind the scenes, quietly processing, storing, and moving the information that powers modern life.
By AnthonyBTV2 months ago in Futurism
