"...I still don’t think I’ll have wasted my time. There’s something poetic about having the present so firmly fixed into you that you can feel it become the past. I don’t have any interest in artistic or even visible body modification; there’s already enough pressure around figuring out how to look and dress. But give me something with even the thinnest veneer of usefulness, and I don’t care whether it makes any practical sense. It’s a symbolic way to declare my apostasy from nature, a first step towards becoming something that evolutionary psychologists can’t neatly box up with stories about cavemen and cavewomen. Maybe this is what being very slightly posthuman is — being able to get a new ability and say, "What’s the big deal?"