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I'm the newly-appointed Future editor at Business 2.0 and the former San Francisco correspondent for Time Magazine.

Wow, so does this mean everything you write reflects Time Inc's opinion? Or do you perhaps have some sort of standard disclaimer to the effect that it doesn't?

Naturally, the opinions contained in this blog are not those of my employers. In fact, some opinions may be the polar opposite of my employers. Some may be the same, for all I know. Hey, it's not like I ask my employers their opinions about everything in the news, okay? Let's just say that if this were a Venn diagram with one circle marked "my opinions" and the other one marked "my employers' opinions", there would doubtless be some overlap. But neither I nor my employers are able to pinpoint exactly where that overlap is.

What is this Daily Blah thing?

An experiment for a column I wrote about blogging back in December 2001. All these years later, I haven't been able to kick the habit.

If it's called Daily Blah, how come you don't ... hey, wait, you're writing every day!

See? Told you I'd try harder.

Mister, you talk funny. Are you one of them furrners?

Why yes I am, as it happens. I was born, raised and educated in Great Britain. I've been living in the U.S. since 1996 and identify as British.

I say, old chap, you forgot the "u" in "colour."

No I didn't. I may identify as British, but I am also an American journalist writing for an American audience about mostly American issues. These two different sides of me are a constant source of tension. Nevertheless, Daily Blah will adhere to American English grammar and spelling.





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Chris Taylor


Daily Blah for... Friday, November 15, 2002

Future Heaven: Hard to Swallow
Just finished the Dennis Danvers novel Circuit of Heaven. It was a thoroughly readable attempt at a science-fiction Romeo and Juliet, in which the backdrop was -- potentially, at least -- as intriguing as the romance. It's set inside a latter 21st-century computerized reality called the Bin, into which the vast majority of humanity -- twelve billion people -- have uploaded themselves. The Bin is indistinguishable from the real world except for the lack of crime, disease and death. The real world is a broken-down shambles populated by a few stubborn holdouts and religious extremists. You've guessed it -- one of the star-cross'd pair hails from the Bin, the other from dingy, death-filled Earth; a broad river of reality divides our lovers.

Nice idea, but alas, I was unable to make the mental leap into the Bin throughout. I speak as an avid SF fan, dew-eyed futurist and fully paid-up space cadet who can swallow the most ridiculous premise -- if explained well. The Bin was not. We are told at the outset that it stores human souls in a network of silicon crystals. I awaited elaboration in vain. We are told this network is stored in what used to be known as the Pentagon, and yet could somehow withstand a direct nuclear attack (Danvers was writing before 9/11, naturally). But most of all, I could not believe in twelve billion uploads -- including Congress, the Pope and most of his clergy -- by 2080. I could not believe the human race would so readily give up on its home and retreat into inner space. Even if it does hold out the promise of immortality, I doubt that many would take it if it meant consigning our real-world bodies to a vast crematorium and never being able to have real children. It's too deep in our programming to keep body and soul together for life, to procreate, and to die.

Nevertheless, with inspirational help from the technology all around us, this virtual world idea is fast becoming a sub-genre of its own -- the first real literature of the new century. Think of the Matrix, Ray Kurzweil's Age of Spiritual Machines, and Greg Egan's Permutation City. Someday I'm going to have to plunge into this sub-genre myself, mind first.



















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