I have always thought of myself as strange machine, uncomfortable in this human skin, often annoyed that it doesn't run more efficiently, and frustrated with the need for constant care. We have one of the poorest designs of all living creatures yet we thrive because of our minds. We manipulate the environment to suit ourselves, instead of evolving to fit the environment. Small wonder disaster movies more often than not depict us as largely perishing in unplanned chaos.

I've often wondered if I would have been happier having my brain transplanted into a network. I would surf the infinite web, meeting other machines, entertaining ourselves with infinite games and choice interests. That's when I miss the touch of Sam's wet nose when he nudges me, feeling Boy's soft fur touch my feet when I stretch in the morning, great dinners with friends and family, the embrace of a loved one.

Would I trade all that for virtual immortality? I ponder on...