Would I have been happier? Maybe. But then, happiness was overrated.

I was six years old when my parents told me that there was a small, dark jewel inside my skull, learning to be me.

I don't have any structured grand plan; I just intend to keep writing about the things that interest me-some of which change, some of which don't.

If we spend all our time gazing at the wonders ahead without remembering where we're standing right now, we're going to trip and fall flat on our face, over and over again.

You know what they say the modern version of Pascal's Wager is? Sucking up to as many Transhumanists as possible, just in case one of them turns into God.

For there is a truth which cannot be bought or sold, imposed by force, resisted or escaped.

No, that’s journalism. The truth is whatever you can’t escape.