Quantum Transmogrifier

Right, so, I'm standing here in this... lab, right? And it's not your typical lab, let me tell you. We're talking wires, and blinking lights, and this hum that vibrates right through your goddamn bones. You know the kind of place where you half expect a bolt of lightning to come crashing through the roof, and some maniacal dude with crazy hair to start yelling, "It's alive! ALIVE!" or some such Frankensteinian bullshit.

Anyway, they're showing me this thing, right? They call it the Quantum Transmogrifier. Now, I'm no scientist, thank Christ, but even I can tell this thing is batshit insane. It's basically a big metal box, like a goddamn oversized refrigerator, with a bunch of screens and knobs and dials that look like they were stolen off a 1950s radio – you know, back when they made things with actual knobs and dials, and not just some goddamn touch screen you can't figure out how to use. And the idea, the idea, is that you step into this thing, and it... well, it transmogrifies you.

Now, you're probably thinking, "Transmogrifies? What in the holy hell does that mean?" And that's what I said. Or something like it. I think my exact words were, " ট্রান্সমগ্রিফাইজ ? Fucking what?" Turns out, it's one of those fancy science words that means it changes you. On a quantum level. Which, as far as I can tell, means they's messing with the very fabric of reality, which, you know, seems like a great idea. What could possibly go wrong? I mean, have they not seen The Fly? Or any movie where scientists are messing around with shit they don't understand?

So, they fire this thing up, and it's making all sorts of ungodly noises. Sparks are flying, the whole room smells like burnt hair and ozone, and I'm pretty sure I saw one of the scientists – a skinny little guy with a pocket protector and a seriously worried look on his face – dive behind a desk. Probably a smart move, all things considered. And then, they take a goddamn hamster, right, and they stick it in the box.

Now, I'm thinking, "Great, we're gonna have crispy critter." But then, the machine does its thing, whatever the hell that is, and the hamster... it's gone. Just vanished. Poof. Like a fart in the wind. And then, a few seconds later, another hamster appears on the other side of the room. A perfectly normal, if slightly bewildered-looking, hamster. It's just standing there, blinking, probably wondering what the hell just happened, and if it's going to get fed soon.

And they're all excited, right? Like they've just cured cancer or invented sliced bread. But me? I'm just standing there, thinking, "You motherfuckers just teleported a hamster." And then I start thinking about all the implications. The sheer, terrifying implications of what they've just done.

They say it's just matter, right? That they're breaking down the hamster into its component atoms and reassembling it somewhere else. But is it really the same hamster? Does it have all the same memories? The same little hamster soul? Or is it just a goddamn copy? A perfect replica, maybe, but still, not the original. It's like that old thought experiment, the Ship of Theseus, but with a goddamn rodent.

And if they can do it with a hamster, can they do it with a person? I mean, are you prepared to step into a giant metal box and have your atoms scattered across the room? And if you do, are you sure you're going to be the same you when you come out the other side? Or will you just be some kind of quantum Xerox? A slightly fuzzy, possibly malfunctioning, version of yourself?

Because, you see where this is going, don't you? You can see the shitstorm of ethical dilemmas this thing is going to unleash. We're talking about the potential for instant travel, for one thing. No more airports, no more security lines, no more screaming babies on long-haul flights, just poof, you're there. But we're also talking about the potential for... well, for a whole lot of fucked-up scenarios, really.

Imagine a world where you can just make copies of yourself. Do you go to work? Or do you send your copy? Do you rob a bank? And if you kill the copy, do you kill the original? What if the copy goes rogue? Starts a goddamn revolution? It's a goddamn philosophical nightmare, that's what it is.

And the scientists, of course, they're all wrapped up in the "how," and they haven't really thought about the "what the fuck are we doing?" part of it. They're so busy patting themselves on the back for moving a goddamn hamster, they haven't stopped to consider that they may have just opened up a Pandora's Box of quantum weirdness that's going to make the Large Hadron Collider look like a goddamn science fair project. A really, really dangerous science fair project.

We're talking about a technology that could change everything. Or end everything. And the really scary part? It's probably just a matter of time before someone figures out how to make one of these things small enough to fit in your goddamn garage. And then what? Everyone's got their own personal Transmogrifier? You can pop down to the shops in the blink of an eye? Or make a quick trip to the moon for a goddamn cheese sandwich?

So, yeah. The future is here, and it's fucked up. And I, for one, am not entirely sure I'm ready for it. I'm thinking I might just stick to my car, thanks. At least I know where I am with that.