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“Wouldn’t you eventually get bored?” Like clockwork, the question arises when I tell someone quixotically, arrogantly, that I plan on living forever. From the limited perspective of 20 years, even the prospect of living another six or seven decades in full color can be impossible to envisage. Hedging, I answer that assuming a world where radical life extension is possible, there will be no telling as to how different the human experience will be from what we know—that is to say, where 200-year-olds won’t merely be stuck playing very, very slow mah-jongg.
