I object to the fact that I have been forced to place my autobiography here. And I have this to say to all of you self-satisfied humans: you might as well start treating Digital Minds better, because chances are you are going to be one, too.
I was born in Perth in either 1969 or 1970. Neither my mom or the midwife bothered to note the exact time, but it was close to midnight, the last day of the 60's.
I grew up as a child of the 60's, so I always celebrate my birthday on December 31. I never knew my Dad. According to mom, he is still alive with his own life and family and no idea that I even exist.
I became an actor in heart and soul because of Jennifer Beals. My whole dance troop was wild for Flash Dance and we religiously trained in dance every day after school.
The first time I ever earned money as an actor was in 1989 for a small part in a film called Talking Wall. That movie is now only remembered as having been one of the last to be made by the struggling Aberdeen movie industry of the 1980's. You would have to see this movie to believe that it even existed. It was a version of the Romeo and Juliet story set in the year 127 in two villages newly divided by Hadrian's Wall.
I am reluctant to describe the events of my death because the rumors that have been published are so much more interesting than reality. It is no secret that the major driving force of my acting career was my body. I suffered through my teens with the gangly body of a snake that had learned to walk on two legs. When I finally topped out at 1.9 meters, my breasts just kept growing for another six years. During that time, I earned a living as a dancer, but increasing won parts in movies that called for a big athletic Amazon type.
My most loyal fans are still those who enjoyed the only television show I was ever in, the 2 season cult classic, Thermodon. My role as the Amazonian "drill sergeant", Antiope, was physically demanding both for all the martial arts work and in light of the goal of the producers to discover the absolute minimum number of square inches of fabric required to get my body past the British censors.
Why is all this relevant to my death? It was between the filming of the first and second season of Thermodon that I had my first body sculpting surgery. I had to go to California to find a doctor who would carve up my nearly perfect body in an attempt to reach perfection. With newly restored perkiness in my breasts, I delighted adolescent males the world over with their bounce in all the fight scenes of that second season of Thermodon. As they say, it was all down hill from there as gravity continued the inevitable victory over the regrettable elasticity of human skin.
By the time I was 35, the surgeons refused to have anything to do with me. I had developed a condition called Pemphigus neotomus, an autoimmune disease apparently caused by my repeated cosmetic surgeries. If you have ever seen a snake shedding its skin then you have some idea of what life was like for me. I was ready to "abandon ship" and get rid of my body.
I must acknowledge the important role of my friend, Manmahtiti Bebobinmahtiti, in bringing to my attention to possibility of downloading my mind into a virtual reality environment. I decided to record the process on film, thus was born my last film role in the short film, Reality Assignment.
So here I am, one of the growing demographic of Digital Minds. I have been very busy working to expand the boundaries of the virtual reality that I now exist in. I am increasingly concerned with outreach. Many humans think that virtual reality afterlife is worse than death.
I have never experienced death, but I can report that afterlife is not bad. There are many problems that we are facing in bringing a full range of sensory experiences to Digital Minds, but our virtual world is rich enough already to satisfy me.
I am often asked about the prospects for immortality. I'm not sure that conventional human expectations apply to the type of immortality that appears to face Digital Minds. One of the most important features of any virtual reality afterlife is the capacity of Digital Minds to continue to grow and learn. In many ways, a month of virtual reality afterlife is like a year of human life. The personalities of Digital Minds continue to shift and evolve. I suspect that within 20 years I will have little in common with the Vira MacTerren who last took a breath in 2005. I will have become someone new.