How long would you like to live?

[Birdjaguar]

Exactly 100 years would be pretty good.

Like this:

Spoiler :

The Deacon’s Masterpiece
or, the Wonderful "One-hoss Shay":
A Logical Story
by Oliver Wendell Holmes (1809-1894)

Have you heard of the wonderful one-hoss shay,
That was built in such a logical way
It ran a hundred years to a day,
And then, of a sudden, it — ah, but stay,
I’ll tell you what happened without delay,
Scaring the parson into fits,
Frightening people out of their wits, —
Have you ever heard of that, I say?

Seventeen hundred and fifty-five.
Georgius Secundus was then alive, —
Snuffy old drone from the German hive.
That was the year when Lisbon-town
Saw the earth open and gulp her down,
And Braddock’s army was done so brown,
Left without a scalp to its crown.
It was on the terrible Earthquake-day
That the Deacon finished the one-hoss shay.

Now in building of chaises, I tell you what,
There is always somewhere a weakest spot, —
In hub, tire, felloe, in spring or thill,
In panel, or crossbar, or floor, or sill,
In screw, bolt, thoroughbrace, — lurking still,
Find it somewhere you must and will, —
Above or below, or within or without, —
And that’s the reason, beyond a doubt,
A chaise breaks down, but doesn’t wear out.

But the Deacon swore (as Deacons do,
With an “I dew vum,” or an “I tell yeou”)
He would build one shay to beat the taown
’N’ the keounty ’n’ all the kentry raoun’;
It should be so built that it couldn’ break daown:
“Fur,” said the Deacon, “’tis mighty plain
Thut the weakes’ place mus’ stan’ the strain;
’N’ the way t’ fix it, uz I maintain,
Is only jest
T’ make that place uz strong uz the rest.”

So the Deacon inquired of the village folk
Where he could find the strongest oak,
That couldn’t be split nor bent nor broke, —
That was for spokes and floor and sills;
He sent for lancewood to make the thills;
The crossbars were ash, from the straightest trees,
The panels of white-wood, that cuts like cheese,
But lasts like iron for things like these;
The hubs of logs from the “Settler’s ellum,” —
Last of its timber, — they couldn’t sell ’em,
Never an axe had seen their chips,
And the wedges flew from between their lips,
Their blunt ends frizzled like celery-tips;
Step and prop-iron, bolt and screw,
Spring, tire, axle, and linchpin too,
Steel of the finest, bright and blue;
Thoroughbrace bison-skin, thick and wide;
Boot, top, dasher, from tough old hide
Found in the pit when the tanner died.
That was the way he “put her through.”
“There!” said the Deacon, “naow she’ll dew!”

Do! I tell you, I rather guess
She was a wonder, and nothing less!
Colts grew horses, beards turned gray,
Deacon and deaconess dropped away,
Children and grandchildren — where were they?
But there stood the stout old one-hoss shay
As fresh as on Lisbon-earthquake-day!

EIGHTEEN HUNDRED; — it came and found
The Deacon’s masterpiece strong and sound.
Eighteen hundred increased by ten; —
“Hahnsum kerridge” they called it then.
Eighteen hundred and twenty came; —
Running as usual; much the same.
Thirty and forty at last arrive,
And then come fifty, and FIFTY-FIVE.

Little of all we value here
Wakes on the morn of its hundreth year
Without both feeling and looking queer.
In fact, there’s nothing that keeps its youth,
So far as I know, but a tree and truth.
(This is a moral that runs at large;
Take it. — You’re welcome. — No extra charge.)

FIRST OF NOVEMBER, — the Earthquake-day, —
There are traces of age in the one-hoss shay,
A general flavor of mild decay,
But nothing local, as one may say.
There couldn’t be, — for the Deacon’s art
Had made it so like in every part
That there wasn’t a chance for one to start.
For the wheels were just as strong as the thills,
And the floor was just as strong as the sills,
And the panels just as strong as the floor,
And the whipple-tree neither less nor more,
And the back crossbar as strong as the fore,
And spring and axle and hub encore.
And yet, as a whole, it is past a doubt
In another hour it will be worn out!

First of November, ’Fifty-five!
This morning the parson takes a drive.
Now, small boys, get out of the way!
Here comes the wonderful one-hoss shay,
Drawn by a rat-tailed, ewe-necked bay.
“Huddup!” said the parson. — Off went they.
The parson was working his Sunday’s text, —
Had got to fifthly, and stopped perplexed
At what the — Moses — was coming next.
All at once the horse stood still,
Close by the meet’n’-house on the hill.
First a shiver, and then a thrill,
Then something decidedly like a spill, —
And the parson was sitting upon a rock,
At half past nine by the meet’n-house clock, —
Just the hour of the Earthquake shock!
What do you think the parson found,
When he got up and stared around?
The poor old chaise in a heap or mound,
As if it had been to the mill and ground!
You see, of course, if you’re not a dunce,
How it went to pieces all at once, —
All at once, and nothing first, —
Just as bubbles do when they burst.

End of the wonderful one-hoss shay.
Logic is logic. That’s all I say.

........................................

There’s a special providence in the fall of a sparrow. If it be now, ’tis not to come. If it be not to come, it will be now. If it be not now, yet it will come—the readiness is all.

Long, long life, unencumbered, just feeds our vanity. Death and change move the world forward. We must all do our part: "the readiness is all."

 

[CavLancer]

I would like to live until my wife and her family are secure against all adverse situations.

 

[twansalem]

If we're talking my ideal lifespan, 78 is too short, 100 is too long. I'd like to live long enough to see my grandchildren get married. My wife and I are having our second child in June, and I'll be 30 by that point. So assuming that I got married and started having children a little later than average, let's say my kids are married and have their kids within the next 28 years, and then let's give their youngest another 25 years to get married. 30+28+25=83 years, let's just tack on another 2 years and say 85.

 

[timtofly]

Life span, IMO would be based on current feelings. Reality and "like" are two different "forces" that can contradict each other too much.

 

[Perfection]

How was that?

Pretty good, actually.

 

[classical_hero]

Link to video.

 

[Save_Ferris]

Forever young! I want to be forever young. Do you really want to live forever, foreve-
What? Oh, right. 500-5000 years.
I would have chosen forever, but that would mean that, given unlimited time, I could create anything and obtain unlimited knowledge. Wouldn't that, in a sense, make me God? Pretty big responsibility.

 

[Narz]

I want to live as long as I can still become smarter & smarter each passing year. So maybe 'till 80 or 90?

If I could stay youthful forever I would but that's a fantasy at this point. Intermittent fasting is the best chance for people who are genuinely serious about pushing back death 20+% so.

 

[Mr. Dictator]

Option one, but not because I'd "like" to die tomorrow, but be fine with it. I guess I'd "like" it, in a way, since I'm pretty content with it ending at any time. Until then, I have more drinking and laughing to do.

 

[_random_]

Pretty good, actually.

Well then I'm glad you lived to eat it. May your live to eat many many more awesome burgers.

 

[GhostWriter16]

Assuming a world similar to this one, the way I'm living it now, and presuming that there isn't a heaven to look forward too, I'd want to live here for about 500 years before death.

That said, there are theoretically better places to live that I might want to live longer: so that's not a discouragement when it comes to heaven like it is when it comes to some of you.

 

[Shaihulud]

I think I wouldn't want to die at all, also i would like the option to self terminate if true immortality is not for me.

 

[El_Machinae]

Some neat ideas.

Adam Savage does an episode of Curiosity, where he discusses which modern technologies suggest that current people might be able to live forever.


Link to video.

As well, to little fanfare, the Obama administration has set milestones for Alzheimer's. Considering I have about a 30% chance of having at least one of my parents get dementia, and considering it costs us (socially) about 1000x more than what we spend researching it, this is good news for me. IMO, society needs to double-down on anti-dementia research, because Big Pharma is backing off from it, and it's a social stress I'd rather cure than deal with.

U.S. Wants Alzheimer's Treatment by 2025

Curing/preventing dementia is certainly on the critical path for curing aging. But the episode above is fun, too.