many to mention. So, given
the opportunity, I’d go back
to each one and force teen
me to think, “What would an
adult who isn’t me do?”
It turns out we make these
blues and blunders as adolescents
because our noggins are yet to
form properly. In fact, the
areas of the brain that control
decision-making don’t fully
develop until early adulthood.
(Or, for some people, arguably
at all.) So, kids aged 12 to 17
years are boneheads, basically.
But herein lies the problem:
my bonehead ways didn’t stop
at sweet 17. In fact, when I
was 20, my biggest error in
judgment made its mark – quite
literally – when I decided it
was time to get a tattoo.
I fancied a girl I used to work
with. For the sake of this article,
let’s call her Sharon, because
that was her name. I enjoyed
hanging out with Sharon, and
when she said she was getting
a tattoo and asked if I wanted
to come, of course, I said yes.
At the tattoo parlour, she asked
if I was going to get one, too,
and of course, I said yes. When
she asked if I knew what I was
going to get... of course,
I said yes.
After a brief panic, I clumsily
pointed towards the wall and
told the tattooist, “I’ll have that
one.” Neither of us was actually
sure what my trembling hand
was pointing at, but we pushed
on. An hour later, I looked down
and saw a dolphin jumping
through a peace sign on my
ankle, and the peace sign was
on fire. If you’re wondering
whether Sharon fell in love
with me based on my now very
permanent flaming peace
dolphin, the answer is no.
There are loads of things I
wish I’d done differently, so a
time-travelling self-awareness
machine would be a handy thing
to invent. Lord knows I’ve racked
up the frequent flyer miles.
By
Sam
Prendergast
Until recently, I figured that
growing old was mostly a matter
of aesthetics. Then I started
waking up with ‘pains’. Aching
fingers. Stiff knees. Sometimes
my hips literally creak when I
force my decaying flesh suit out
of bed. As it turns out, there’s
more to ageing than grey hair and
forehead lines – not that I should
know. In normal human years,
I am 28 and basically an infant.
I eat regular amounts of green
food and exercise frequently. I’m
‘healthy’ and ‘active’ and none of
it matters, because no matter what
I do, I constantly experience mild
degrees of unexplained aching. It
literally pains me to say it, but I
think this might be what it feels
like to be a human adult. Which is
why, if I could invent anything,
it would be a layer of protective
skin to prevent us all from ever
experiencing physical discomfort,
illness or bodily sadness of any
kind. Take that, mortality.When I explained this invention
to friends, they were sceptical.
“But don’t we need to feel? Can’t
pain make us stronger? Isn’t your
‘invention’ just a giant, padded
band-aid?” To all of those questions
I answer, no. Pain is not ‘your
body telling you something’;
it’s your body breaking down
and preparing for the grave. If
we neededcracking knees and
sore backs, we’d be born with
them. Children would spend
four minutes on the trampoline
and then come inside searching
for tiger balm and an ice pack.
Instead, they run around endlessly,
bashing their soft little bodies
into the ground, totally unaware
that a decade of ignorant bliss
is going to be followed by many
decades of weird body tweaks.As a child, I approached the world
with as much reckless abandon asis possible for a dorky little nerd,
and I paid for it with multiple
broken arms and rolled ankles.
Every time I hurt myself, a
doctor would cover my limbs
in plaster then send me back out
into the world as though nothing
had really happened. I’d spend a
month enjoying the child fame
that comes with wearing a cast
on your arm, then I’d return to
my normal bashful life without
feeling any worse for wear. This is
all I want from the world. To feel
constantly repairable – preferably
invincible, like Wolverine without
all the body hair.Protective skin – I’m going to
call it ‘Pro Skin’ – would keep
us all in a blissful state of bodily
comfort, leaving us free to do
pretty much any physical activity
without fear of joint pain or
illness. Cough on the train with
wild abandon, because no germs
are going to penetrate this suit
of protective armour. Engage in
multiple martial arts; go for a
run; lift some weights; and feel
totally fine the next day, because
you’re free now. Time and age
mean nothing! Torn tendons are
a thing of the past. Your lower
back feels ‘loose’. We’ve finally
reached peak evolution, which is
really what Pro Skin is all about.Are there downsides? Maybe.
It’ll be harder to justify sick
days, for one. And I’m not so sure
how we’d deal with bar fights in
a world without pain. But that
seems like a fair price to pay
for the luxury of occupying a
fleshy robot body. In return for
the loss of sick days, we’ll gain
the ability to try bizarre and
dangerous sports, like scaling
cliff faces without safety ropes;
playing slightly more extreme
versions of paintball; and plucking
eyebrow hairs without getting
watery eyes. More importantly,
and more realistically (because
paintball’s horrifying, even if
you do have magic skin), we’ll
all be able to sleep through the
night and wake up feeling like
freshly bathed infants. And
that’s what life’s all about.writers’ piece