ohyesrobot.ordoliberal.com

2011-10-21

Original: 2011-10-21 on Saturday Morning Breakfast Cereal

Transcript

Panel 1 (caption): The first cryogenic patients were frozen too slowly.

Panel 2 (caption): Ice crystals formed, rupturing too many cells for them to be unfrozen later.

Panel 3 (caption): But several centuries hence, cell-repairing nanobots were circulated into their bodies.

Panel 4 (caption): They located the ruptures and knitted the cells back together, leaving properly frozen bodies awaiting "treatment."

Panel 5 (caption): When finally reinvigorated, the people found it all somewhat distressing.
Revived patient: So... was I alive or dead? How can my being alive or dead depend on the level of technological advancement?
Doctor: You were a corpse before we had the right tools and a patient after.
Doctor: Look, I'm a doctor. You're all corpses until proven otherwise.

Panel 6 (caption): Fortunately, there was a simple emotionally satisfying solution.
Doctor: Apply two times a day.

Panel 7 (caption): It wasn't perfect.
Patient: What if I still despair over the infinite lacuna between when I hoped life was and what the evidence suggests?
Doctor: Three.

Votey: A bald, smiling man exclaims, "It works!"

Alt text

A tall black-and-white SMBC comic with red caption banners above each panel. The setup, told through captions over images of a person lying frozen on a slab and blue ice crystals: the first cryogenic patients were frozen too slowly, so ice crystals formed and ruptured too many cells to unfreeze them later. But centuries later, cell-repairing nanobots were circulated into their bodies, located the ruptures, and knitted the cells back together, leaving properly frozen bodies awaiting 'treatment.' When finally revived, the people found it all somewhat distressing. A revived patient asks, 'So... was I alive or dead? How can my being alive or dead depend on the level of technological advancement?' The doctor replies, 'You were a corpse before we had the right tools and a patient after. Look, I'm a doctor. You're all corpses until proven otherwise.' Fortunately there was a simple emotionally satisfying solution: the doctor hands over a bottle and says, 'Apply two times a day.' It wasn't perfect, though. The patient asks, 'What if I still despair over the infinite lacuna between when I hoped life was and what the evidence suggests?' The doctor answers, 'Three.' Votey: a crudely drawn bald man with a huge grin shouts, 'It works!'

Transcribed by Claude Opus 4.8.