Wednesday, January 20, 2016

How To Cheat Death With Immortality Apps

How To Hack The Afterlife











Please scroll down .!










































SOURCE: Getty



HOW TO HACK THE AFTERLIFE


WHY YOU SHOULD CARE

Because this is how to die in the digital era. 
For someone so young and sprightly, 24-year-old William Jack Murphy spends an inordinate amount of time thinking about his demise. Based on the stats, he figures colon cancer or a heart attack could get him in the end, and his last breath will probably be mid-sentence during a conversation about cyborgs. But mostly he’s focused on the radical ways he’ll evade the Grim Reaper’s unwelcome scythe altogether. Yes, there is an app for that, one that will preserve his online data — texts, timelines, tweets and all — before it crumbles into digital dust. 
To the clunky urns and graveyard grievings of yesteryear, RIP. A growing number of artificial-intelligence startups are stirring up the business of eternal rest with a techno-futurist mission in mind. Humai will pour your speech patterns, mannerisms and worldviews into an app so your loved ones can still text with you when you’re six feet under. A startup called eterni.me will bequeath a computer-based avatar to your friends and family, so they can posthumously Skype with you. And if that’s not enough, you can commemorate yourself with ETER9, an AI-infused social network that will generate posts on your behalf and interact with other netizens long after you’ve kicked the bucket.
Posthumous hacks could be even more devastating to the living than grave digging
Forging a digital afterlife isn’t about living in your body forever, says Humai CEO Josh Bocanegra. It’s about moving on without it — complete with a digital resurrection that will bring your essence back to life even as your flesh rots away. That’s far more meaningful to the survivors than just photos, says Bocanegra. As for Murphy, a self-dubbed “techno-philosopher,” he’ll have a sophisticated algorithm that will reconstruct his personality by scanning his texts, emails, pictures, profiles, feeds and the rest of his digital footprint. He intends his post-death self to opine over politics with his dad and snap crude jokes with his brother, just as he does now, and to give advice to his future kin, much like a modern-day Ouija board. Murphy’s dying words won’t be his last. For now, he says, “We are living in exponential times.”
Indeed, experts predict the artificial-intelligence industry will grow from $202.5 million to $11.1 billion by 2024, and it’s perhaps not surprising that it’ll revamp our afterlife trajectories too — and possibly make the ancient industry of death turn in its grave. But it will, of course, take a while. Most of these startups are busy with beta testing and are slated to be released to the public in the next few years. Together, they’ve already registered tens of thousands of people eager to memorialize themselves and cheat death, so to speak, once the technology is out. ETER9 is free to join, but eterni.me’s post-death avatars range from a small monthly subscription fee until the day you depart to thousands of dollars up front in order to build a digital dossier of your life. Even then, it’s much too early to pin down the price tag of immortality, Bocanegra says.







Doubts linger over the feasibility of such a larger-than-life endeavor. There are obvious questions about how realistic these replicas could ever be; our online personae usually reflect just a glimmer of our multifaceted selves. And yes, the prospect gives plenty of people, from ardent transhumanists to modern-day philosophers, the creeps. This is not the way to commune with the dead, argues Shelly Kagan, a philosophy professor at Yale University. For one, you’re not really chitchatting with sweet ol’ Grandma Perkins, since on a “metaphysical level” it’s more like a substandard Xerox copy of her. Death can be pushed but never denied, and “no technology is going to fix that.” Others argue that creating replicas of loved ones will just postpone grief and closure. 
Other concerns are less, well, otherworldly. Security is one of them. An untimely breach could “echo through eternity” and result in the alteration of someone’s legacy, says ETER9 founder Henrique Jorge. Indeed, posthumous hacks could be even more devastating to the living than grave digging or body snatching. There are risks for the living too: Storing such intimate personal data in one place makes services like these attractive targets for identity thieves hoping to score big. 
But these companies say they’re ensuring that their systems are hack-proof, privately storing and securely encrypting each user’s data, Jorge says. In addition, the information cannot be downloaded in bulk by anyone — even users can access only limited interfaces. For people like Murphy, the apps make consummate sense. As he points out, he would have treasured more time with his mother, who died from colon cancer two years ago. Murphy says an artificially intelligent version of her would have undoubtedly helped alleviate the sorrow his family endured.
His biggest takeaway from her death? “I’m not ready to die any time soon.” Murphy wants his legacy to rage, rage against the dying of the light, even if just through the faint gleam of a computer screen.
Leslie Nguyen Bio

LESLIE NGUYEN-OKWU 

OZY AUTHOR REPORTER / RESEARCHER
Leslie Nguyen-Okwu is OZY's Southeast Asia roving reporter. Stuff she loves: running half-marathons (in sweltering Thai heat), chowing down on local street food and fumbling with new languages.

Saturday, January 9, 2016

"When I'm Gone" Lyrics and Video - Joey and Rory/Rory's Blog re Joey Is Dying !!

when I’m gone

when I’m gone
Joey and I have always tried to record songs that matter to us – songs that we can relate to in a personal way.
Some are songs we’ve written and some we’ve found.  More times than not, they’re songs about us – about our lives.  But from time to time, a song we record comes to life in a way we never imagined.
Years ago, our friend Sandy Lawrence wrote a song for her mother who she was caring for as she was passing away.  It was something she said she wrote to help her through her feelings – to help her heal.
In 2012, Joey and I were in the studio recording a new album.  This record was going to be called His and Hers and different than the ones we’d made before where Joey sang every song and I just sang harmony… on this record she wanted me to sing half of the songs.  And so I did.
As we were looking for and choosing the 12 songs that would go on the new record, we both knew that we wanted one of them to be a Sandy Lawrence song.  Sandy was a undiscovered songwriter who had moved to Nashville twenty-something years ago and knocked on a thousand un-opened doors on Music Row.  In her late 50’s now, working at a library and helping her husband Cowboy Jack take care of the horses at their small ranch south of Franklin- we had come to know and love the songs that Sandy wrote.  Different than most songwriters in Nashville where co-writing runs rampant, Sandy writes hers alone.  And they’re brilliant.
And maybe by chance, by recording one of her songs… we could change Sandy’s life and the world could discover what a gift she has.  That’s our favorite part of recording other people’s songs.
Sitting in the studio with my laptop, I went through a few of the songs that we liked and then came across a new one that Sandy had sent me.  It was her work-tape of “When I’m Gone”.   I played it for Joey.
She listened as her tears fell.

Ten minutes later, our producer Gary Paczosa, Joey and I were gathered around Gordon Mote and his piano – finding Joey’s key to record the song in.  Gordon is blind and though he can’t see with his eyes… his gift of sight is much stronger than ours.  It was as if he could see what this song would one day become and he laid his fingers on the keys and softly started playing the intro notes on the piano that you hear now.
We wept again.
Fast forward a few months and we were at our farm in the big barn making a music video for When I’m Gone.  We knew the recording was special and our hope was that the song’s message might help someone who is in the midst of losing someone they love or who has already lost someone and are trying to make sense of it all.
Someone like me… and my girls.  And Joey’s mama and daddy.  And three sisters.  And all our friends.
And you.
The day we made the video, our plans were to just have Joey and I sing the song in front of the cameras and Sandy play piano in the background.  We lit candles and transformed our barn into a beautiful studio set.  But an hour or two before shooting started, Gabe and Aaron and BA came to me and said we have an idea… they said, “what if you’re the one who has lost someone and Joey’s singing to you?”
I didn’t like it.
I told them so.  It hit too close to home.
But as they continued to talk and I listened… I realized that “yes, of course.  We have to make it that way.  It’s the story in the song”.
It wasn’t what I wanted… but it’s what the song wanted.   And though it scared me for us to be that vulnerable, it was also what our whole lives and music career was about – being real… being honest.
And so the cameras rolled and both Joey and I let us ourselves imagine what it would be like if she had to leave this world and I was left behind without her…

And now, here I sit beside my dying wife.
I don’t say those words lightly.  As a matter-of-fact, I haven’t said them at all.  But my beautiful bride has said them to me in these couple of days.  Her pain and discomfort has continued to increase daily and so has the morphine to help her be comfortable.  The dosage she’s needed to keep the pain away has quadrupled in the last four days.
I’d like to tell you that she’s doing great and is going to beat this thing.  But I can’t.
Yesterday with tears in her eyes and mine, Joey held my hand and told me that she has been having serious talks with Jesus.  She said she told him that if He’s ready to take her… she’s ready to come home.
Our ‘make-believe’ song and video seems to be coming true.
Some call it ‘life imitating art’.  I don’t.
I call it God.
He knew I would need her to tell me goodbye… not just once, but a thousand times.  And I’d need to know that no matter how much time passes, that she loves me still.  And He made it so that if I needed to be reminded of her beautiful life and heart and voice… she would only be a ‘click’ away.
Am I angry at the irony of the song?   No.  How could I be?
How many men who are losing the woman they love get a gift like that?  None that I know of.
Joey and I have asked to have “When I’m Gone” added to our new “Hymns That Are Important To Us” album that’s coming out in a couple of weeks in Cracker Barrel and most other places all around the country.  It’s not a classic hymn, but to us it is.
It is a very special song, filled with hope and love.  And in time, I believe it will have the power to help heal a million broken hearts…
Even mine.
When I'm Gone-1161



A bright sunrise will contradict the heavy fault that weighs you down
In spite of all the funeral songs
The birds will make their joyful sounds
You wonder why the earth still moves
You wonder how youll carry on
But you'll be okay on that first day when I'm gone
Dusk will come with fireflies and whippoorwill and crickets call
And every star will take its place
And silvery gown and purple shawl
You'll lie down in our big bed
Dread the dark and dread the dawn
But you'll be alright on that first night when I'm gone
You will reach for me in vain.
You'll be whispering my name
As if sorrow were your friend
And this world so alien
But life will call with daffodil
And morning glorious blue skies
You'll think of me some memory
And softly smile to your surprise
And even though you love me still
You will know where you belong
Just give it time we'll both be fine
When I'm gone.

Read more:  Joey And Rory - When I'm Gone Lyrics | MetroLyrics 

  1. Joey+Rory - When I'm Gone3:55

Friday, January 8, 2016

Bring People Back From The Dead-Make Their Recipes

Philadelphia Inquirer, FOOD&DINING, Thursday, January 7, 2016, Page F1

Rekindling delicious memories













Bundle of Vintage Recipe Cards
Picture
Handwritten recipes are best for cooking from the past. istockphoto
Perhaps you’ve noticed: If you want to bring people back from the dead, make one of their signature recipes. Preferably from their own handwriting.
Granted, these days it’s far less efficient to wade through dog-eared binders and recipe-card boxes and much easier to find recipes online. But I recently made Aunt Toots’ noodle kugel, and it felt as though I were in her kitchen talking with her.
Last year, at the memorial service for a friend, Paula Garvin, a recipe for her plum cake was included on the lovely program. It resembled a tart I’d adored from a deceased relative of mine from Germany, so Isaved it for blue plum season last fall. When I made it, it seemed to replay memories of the times we shared at adult school meetings, at civic events, and her time on the school board.
Frank Sessa had been a close friend of ours for decades. He and my husband were the kind of buddies you’re lucky to find in a lifetime. As couples, the four of us had developed our Saturday-morning routine of walking to a favorite breakfast spot. During the later stages of his illness, that spot became our patio.
Frank always went to great trouble on behalf of his friends, putting his various skills at our disposal whenever. When we needed help replacing a door or a floor, he was there. Once, he made us his family’s Italian wedding soup. I gather it cost him almost a week’s preparation. But then, he was a chemist. I’ll never even attempt that recipe, but as he loved my deviled eggs, we summon him in that way. We feel a soothing aspect of his presence in this custom.
When my mother-in-law was alive, Iconfess I didn’t fully appreciate her macaroni salad. It combined a unique, tiny, and delicate ring pasta with abundant bunches of all the fresh herbs her incomparable garden put forth. She added crumbled, hardboiled egg and tuna and went very light on the dressing. A tad strong for my younger taste, those samplings were tantalizing enough to kindle compelling cravings years after her death. Hurrah for the expansion of that Rochester chain that produces the singular ring macaroni that my husband maintains is required to duplicate this recipe. Together with our own herbs, and some from the grocery, we’re now able to restore some of the essence of Paul’s mom’s kitchen. In trying to do so, I ask her forgiveness for brushing off too many of her masterpieces.
Like her homemade pickles from homegrown cucumbers, garlic, and dill. How dare she leave us without that recipe. Perhaps that was her inadvertent parry to her shortsighted daughter-in-law.
My mom still spends lots of time in the kitchen with me, though she died in 1998. I’m not saying I follow her recipes faithfully. But my sister does, and our yearly attempts together to replicate Mom’s scratch marble cake have become as legendary in the family as the cake itself.
When Mom and I are alone in the kitchen, we banter affectionately and spar over specifics. Any time I decrease the butter, she raises her eyebrows and purses her lips at me, indicating that I’m sacrificing taste and texture for potential health. I say potential, because she lived to 83, and I haven’t made it there yet.
When my back begins to spasm, I tell her how sorry I am for the struggles she endured while trying to make our favorite feasts when all the kids and grands converged on home for a visit.
When one of Mom’s recipes says “enough milk to dissolve the sugar and cocoa; don’t overstir,” I beg her to be more precise.
The moral of that story came too late for me. I should have apprenticed more, attended more closely to the process when it was going on — rather than just to the tasty reward. The next generation has the benefit of digital cameras and videos to capture the “pinches” of this or that, and the difficult-to-replicate touches that written recipes can’t always convey. My advice is to employ all of the technologies available, tasting as you go.