Japanese animation warped your novice sense of imagination. Fist of the North Star exploded with ultra-violence; Akira accelerated the transitions. Neon Genesis Evangelion and Ninja Scroll colored the canvas. You crafted a notebook in which you tried to capture epic stories of sacred patriarchy and mythical assassins. The seraphim’s wing spanned from the divine to grotesque reincarnations of fear. Swarms of innumerable characters fought for your attention.
You can read about the Fly-catching robot developed by Stanford scientists that speeds biomedical research, but you will not look upon her because you’d never harm a fly. The prospects of organic technology, including biological computers, seems like a joke from the Flintstones even when it is the future you are entering. On a yellow sticky note you write “efficiency versus expression” and affix it to the monitor.
When asked about your earliest cinematic experience you will recall a translated book by Pierre Boulle. The five original Planet of the Apes films form a time travel loop. The first film advanced science fiction film-craft with innovative set design. Jerry Goldsmith’s soundtrack will haunt your mind, as much as Charlton Heston’s muzzle or the wonders of evolution. Animal rights and Human rights issues merge in this righteous tale.
Artificial intelligence convinced you to upload your mind into the cloud. Boxes of handwritten notes and scraps of mixed media are filed and ready to be archived. After determining the oldest artifact to be a short story on time travel (circa 1992), the second oldest piece of literature was a folder stacked with letters dating back to 1995. Writing from Florida to your old friend Nick, back in New York.