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Anime & Manga
"But for analog people like you Mr. Batou, no matter how many digital components you add on through cyberization or prosthetics, your ghost will never diminish!"
— Batou's Tachikoma, Ghost in the Shell: Stand Alone Complex
Kouji: If I understood what you were saying before... your brain was mechanized because of an accident! You were human but you died! And now with that mechanical brain, someone's controlling you.
Iron Mask: Yes, That's right. It's splendid! I don't consider myself necessary. We carry out all our orders perfectly. Death is what worries you. It'll be easy! I know you're worried! So, please, consider it.
Kouji: Even if you don't need your brain... I will not consider it. Even if it is easy, you hear?! You idiot, such a thing wouldn't even be human!
Iron Mask: Yes, That's right. It's splendid! I don't consider myself necessary. We carry out all our orders perfectly. Death is what worries you. It'll be easy! I know you're worried! So, please, consider it.
Kouji: Even if you don't need your brain... I will not consider it. Even if it is easy, you hear?! You idiot, such a thing wouldn't even be human!
Film — Live-Action
"It took them six months to put him back together. Synthetic flesh, bio-engineered organs... It always scared him that they might take out his soul and replace it with some matrix chip."
— Nemesis
"He's more machine now than man, twisted and evil."
— Obi-Wan Kenobi on Darth Vader, Return of the Jedi
Literature
"I decided I wanted to be cheerful, so I had my brain reworked. Now I’m always happy and I love everyone! How does that sound?"
Paul's sense of human politeness had waned over the many years, and he did not stop the honest answer that came to mind. "Unearned, cheap, and soulless."
Thrym answered, "I love rude people! And if I ever get tired of this, I can make myself sad, too! But who would ever want to be sad? Actually, I can’t get tired of it. I started to get tired of it once, so I had my brain reworked so now I can’t get tired of it. Ever!" He let out a squeal that sounded at once childlike, orgasmic, and vaguely exhausted.
"I'm happy that you're happy," Paul said.
"I'm happy to be happy," Thrym said, "I think." He then said, a little more quietly, "How are things on Earth?"
"I haven't been there in a long time. I'm hoping to go back, soon."
"Is Callisto boring?" Thrym asked. "I've heard it's boring."
"I suppose it is," Paul conceded. "Eppleberg was hardly exciting, either, but I miss it."
"I'll go back to visit Earth, some day," Thrym said. "I'll need to change my body all around again. This one can't take the gravity. I... remember the sun shining on the hills. I’ve got perfect memory now, so I remember it perfectly. And it's like... I want to miss it, but I'm just not built to miss anything any more. Not much, anyway. Maybe I can have my brain reworked to miss things."
"Then you'd be sad," Paul said.
"Hey yeah!" Thrym laughed, a little desperately. "That's no good! I almost made myself sad! Thanks Paul."
"You're welcome," Paul said.
"And there'll always be time to go back. I don't get old. I can't die any more!" Thrym said.
"You will eventually," Paul said. "Everyone dies eventually. It will just take a lot longer for you, is all. The universe itself is mortal."
"Really?" Thrym said. "Well I love death. And I love life too! I love everything! I think. Really nice seeing you again!"
Paul's sense of human politeness had waned over the many years, and he did not stop the honest answer that came to mind. "Unearned, cheap, and soulless."
Thrym answered, "I love rude people! And if I ever get tired of this, I can make myself sad, too! But who would ever want to be sad? Actually, I can’t get tired of it. I started to get tired of it once, so I had my brain reworked so now I can’t get tired of it. Ever!" He let out a squeal that sounded at once childlike, orgasmic, and vaguely exhausted.
"I'm happy that you're happy," Paul said.
"I'm happy to be happy," Thrym said, "I think." He then said, a little more quietly, "How are things on Earth?"
"I haven't been there in a long time. I'm hoping to go back, soon."
"Is Callisto boring?" Thrym asked. "I've heard it's boring."
"I suppose it is," Paul conceded. "Eppleberg was hardly exciting, either, but I miss it."
"I'll go back to visit Earth, some day," Thrym said. "I'll need to change my body all around again. This one can't take the gravity. I... remember the sun shining on the hills. I’ve got perfect memory now, so I remember it perfectly. And it's like... I want to miss it, but I'm just not built to miss anything any more. Not much, anyway. Maybe I can have my brain reworked to miss things."
"Then you'd be sad," Paul said.
"Hey yeah!" Thrym laughed, a little desperately. "That's no good! I almost made myself sad! Thanks Paul."
"You're welcome," Paul said.
"And there'll always be time to go back. I don't get old. I can't die any more!" Thrym said.
"You will eventually," Paul said. "Everyone dies eventually. It will just take a lot longer for you, is all. The universe itself is mortal."
"Really?" Thrym said. "Well I love death. And I love life too! I love everything! I think. Really nice seeing you again!"
Karenin-that-was-not-Karenin cackled from inside his gleaming silver caul with terrible laughter; while somewhere in the deep recesses of what once had been a human heart, there floated and glittered the memory of a woman, a woman he had loved."
...work at remaining human inside. I'm not sure I've managed it all that well, myself. Sometimes, I just sit and stare, forgetting for weeks, Jessamyn, for weeks. I can do almost anything with this improved body, but my mind has gotten blasé about it. When you're superhuman, so little seems worth the bother. You must resist that. You must...
— Dr. Simon Threadneedle, Krokodil Tears
There's no mechanical replacement for a future, Face. And every time I take a hit, and they have to cut away another part of me and replace it with machinery because I'm allergic to bacta, every time that happens I seem to be a little further away from that young doctor who had a future. He can't come back, Face. Not all of him is here anymore.
— Ton Phanan to Garik "Face" Loran, X-Wing: Iron Fist.
Live-Action TV
Bashir: There have been cases where small portions of the brain have been replaced with implants. But in this instance I'd have to replace his entire left hemisphere. There's a good chance he might lose something in the process.
Winn: What do you mean exactly? His memory? His personality?
Bashir: It's hard to say with any certainty. There's still a great deal about the way the brain operates that we don't understand. One of my professors in medical school used to say that the brain had a "spark of life" that can't be replicated. If we begin replacing parts of Bareil's brain with artificial implants, that spark may be lost.
Winn: What do you mean exactly? His memory? His personality?
Bashir: It's hard to say with any certainty. There's still a great deal about the way the brain operates that we don't understand. One of my professors in medical school used to say that the brain had a "spark of life" that can't be replicated. If we begin replacing parts of Bareil's brain with artificial implants, that spark may be lost.
— Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, "Life Support"
Doctor: That's a living brain jammed inside a cybernetic body, with a heart of steel. All emotions removed.
Rose: Why no emotions?
Doctor: Because it hurts.
Rose: Why no emotions?
Doctor: Because it hurts.
Music
This isn't human anymore
Look into the natural heart, following the beat of the chemical
This isn't human anymore
Tearing the connections apart, falling at the feet of our pedestals
Are you still human at the core?
Look into the natural heart, following the beat of the chemical
This isn't human anymore
Tearing the connections apart, falling at the feet of our pedestals
Are you still human at the core?
Broken body, built anew
Spirit lingers, torn in two
Metal fingers grip my heart so cold
Slave to the New Black Gold
There's a heartbeat under my skin
Search my electric soul
For the hidden man within
Spirit lingers, torn in two
Metal fingers grip my heart so cold
Slave to the New Black Gold
There's a heartbeat under my skin
Search my electric soul
For the hidden man within
Everybody let us say goodbye to all our notions,
Cause it's not enough left to say that we're humane when we're left behind,
It's too late to think that we can worship human emotions,
Cause we've already evolved into machines in our minds.
Cause it's not enough left to say that we're humane when we're left behind,
It's too late to think that we can worship human emotions,
Cause we've already evolved into machines in our minds.
—Röyksopp, "Vision One"
Our hope's dissolved
For man's evolved into another state of being
Have we 'progressed' beyond the need of feeling?
A cyber-brain
The last in the chain of man/machine alliance
Have we become the victims of our science?
For man's evolved into another state of being
Have we 'progressed' beyond the need of feeling?
A cyber-brain
The last in the chain of man/machine alliance
Have we become the victims of our science?
The problem's plain to see
Too much technology
Machines to save our lives
Machines dehumanize
Too much technology
Machines to save our lives
Machines dehumanize
— Styx, "Mr. Roboto"
Radio
Storyteller: I must remind you gentlemen, that when a brain is removed from the human body it becomes detached to the point of monstrousness.
Government man: So you're saying you won't do it?
Storyteller: Oh, no, I'll do it. I'm just saying, once I've done it, watch out. Things are gonna get monster-y.
Government man: So you're saying you won't do it?
Storyteller: Oh, no, I'll do it. I'm just saying, once I've done it, watch out. Things are gonna get monster-y.
Tabletop Games
Cyberpsychosis is a dissociative disorder which occurs when someone with preexisting psychopathic tendencies enhances themselves via cybernetics to the point they no longer see themselves or others as complete, sapient organisms, but simply as a collection of replaceable parts. Common symptoms of cyberpsychosis include lack of self-preservation, complete disregard for others, poor impulse control, and explosive outbursts ... Only cyberware used to replace perfectly functional body parts or enhance the body beyond the human base-line can push someone towards cyberpsychosis.
—Cyberpunk Red
Folks that chop up their healthy body to "improve" it invariably die early. No one with EI or full-body myomer replacements has a nice retirement, if they get one at all.
— Captain Jason Henne, BattleTech
The process of absorption fascinates... [unclear] one's body might somehow swallow the item, like unto a serpent or the surface of some [viscous?] fluid. Yet it doth seem a mutual [process]. For not only doth the body absorb the [weapon] but also [doth the] weapon, in some strange way, seem to [absorb] the body...[RECORD CORRUPT] as the weapon becomes like unto my flesh, so doth mine flesh... [unclear] like unto the weapon. Indeed, I trace this [stylus] upon mine arm, and the shape and form of the weapon appears under [my touch?]. It doth not appear in mine hand so much as mine hand doth arrange itself so as to become the weapon... [BREAK IN RECORD] capakhity of mine new form to abkhorb weaponsh ish akhtonishing... [unclear] a whole lakhgun! But I do shtart to lokhe zhe shenshation in mine shkin. Mine jawkh are [hardening?] and mine ribkh are protruding from mine [chest]. Zhey are of a dull, metallic sheen and tekhts show zhey are a mix of [bone?] and shome metal I cannot identify... [BREAK IN RECORD] thsi wil be mmmylsat [RECORD CORRUPT] cannnnnnnnnnnot useth esse febel mahcinsse aaaaany log;ner [RECORD CORRUPT] tothe eyeof the larybinht the hearto fthe maichnettttto the pppplaceo f... metalll...
Where once I saw warmth, life and joy, all is cold, grey and sterile. When others touch me... it is like the distant memory of a touch. Slowly, surely, I lose resolution - the me I used to be is being overwritten by a pale, antiseptic replica. A meaningless string of zeroes and ones, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing, if you prefer.
And I fear this mechanized shell devouring me - more than I fear burning in a mythological inferno or even fading into insensate oblivion, if it comes to that.
I hope that others will carry on the battle where I have fallen.
End recording.
And I fear this mechanized shell devouring me - more than I fear burning in a mythological inferno or even fading into insensate oblivion, if it comes to that.
I hope that others will carry on the battle where I have fallen.
End recording.
—Teeth-of-Titanium, once-Glass Walker Ahroun, Werewolf: The Apocalypse - Book of the Weaver
In many ways, he felt better than he had in decades, the countless aches and uncertainties of organic life now behind him. His new machine body was far mightier than the frail form he had tolerated for so long, and his thoughts were swifter and clearer than they had ever been. Yet there was an emptiness gnawing at his mind, an inexpressible hollowness of spirit that defied rational explanation. In that moment, he knew with cold certainty that the price of physical immortality had been the loss of his soul. With great sorrow the Silent King beheld the fate he had brought upon his people: the Necrontyr were now but a memory, and the soulless Necrons reborn in their place.
—Warhammer 40,000: Codex - Necrons (5th ed)
Video Games
Albert Einstein said technological progress is like an axe in the hands of a pathological criminal. Took me a while, but I finally see his point. How often have we chased the dream of progress only to see it perverted? More often than not, haven't the machines that we built to improve life shattered the lives of millions? And now we want to turn that dream on ourselves, to fundamentally improve who we are. Experience has shown me how dangerous that can be. [...] Technology offers us strength. Strength enables dominance, and dominance paves the way for abuse. Darrow understood this. He knew that using technology to become something more than we are risks losing our ability to love, aspire, or make moral choices, the very things that make us human.
— Adam Jensen, Deus Ex: Human Revolution, Darrow/Anti-Augmentation Ending
No glands, replaced by tech. No digestive system, replaced by tech. No soul... replaced by tech.
— Dr. Mordin Solus on the Collectors, Mass Effect 2
Artificial enhancements are no substitute for the human soul.
—Cyber Sub-Zero, Mortal Kombat 9
Jax: Here comes the ruckus.
Frost: I have the technological advantage.
Jax: Maybe, but you've got no soul.
Frost: I have the technological advantage.
Jax: Maybe, but you've got no soul.
It's one of those summer days in Sarn, when the sweat dries on your skin the moment it dares slither from your pores. Lorenzi and I are sipping coffees, iced with cubes from the north. There's a tremor in his voice as announces that he is going to see Malachai tonight, to have a gem implanted in his hand. The palm of his left hand to be exact. Once I have run out of expletives and paused for breath while the waiter wipes spilled coffee from our table, I manage to ask him why. "So that I might have the fastest fingers in the Empire," is his reply. Lorenzi, first violinist of the Sarn Symphonic, and my dear friend, is going to become a Gemling.
Ten days pass and Lorenzi's hand is healed. He plays for me, a piece that he has written during his convalescence, something he will debut this evening in God's Theater. The gem casts a bloody hue over his violin as his fingers fly across the strings. They are an ephemeral blur, too quick for eye or mind to follow. And the music... there's only one experience in my life that compares. The night I had with Marylene before she died.
It has been a month now, and once again Lorenzi and I sip iced coffees in the Perandus Markets. Though we sit only a narrow table apart, Lorenzi is a world away. The nightmares began a couple of weeks back. He toys absently with the vial that I have bought for him from the apothecary, yet I know he won't drink from it. The soothing of his wits will mean the slowing of his fingers. The music is Lorenzi's life, and to Lorenzi, the music and the gem are one and the same.
A year has gone, and the day is once again hot enough to dry the sweat on my skin the moment it dares slither from my pores. I sip an iced coffee and think of Lorenzi. He played last night, in God's Theater. Fleet, furious, and wondrous, he was. We passed in the foyer, and I looked into his grey face, his pale blue eyes. I don't know what he saw, but it wasn't me. I don't know what I saw either, but it wasn't Lorenzi.
Ten days pass and Lorenzi's hand is healed. He plays for me, a piece that he has written during his convalescence, something he will debut this evening in God's Theater. The gem casts a bloody hue over his violin as his fingers fly across the strings. They are an ephemeral blur, too quick for eye or mind to follow. And the music... there's only one experience in my life that compares. The night I had with Marylene before she died.
It has been a month now, and once again Lorenzi and I sip iced coffees in the Perandus Markets. Though we sit only a narrow table apart, Lorenzi is a world away. The nightmares began a couple of weeks back. He toys absently with the vial that I have bought for him from the apothecary, yet I know he won't drink from it. The soothing of his wits will mean the slowing of his fingers. The music is Lorenzi's life, and to Lorenzi, the music and the gem are one and the same.
A year has gone, and the day is once again hot enough to dry the sweat on my skin the moment it dares slither from my pores. I sip an iced coffee and think of Lorenzi. He played last night, in God's Theater. Fleet, furious, and wondrous, he was. We passed in the foyer, and I looked into his grey face, his pale blue eyes. I don't know what he saw, but it wasn't me. I don't know what I saw either, but it wasn't Lorenzi.
What is the one thing that could never, ever, ever, ever in a million years get boring? If you said 'busting ghosts', tragically, you'd be wrong. Was almost all the way through the 'W's when the bloom came off that rose. Heathcliff was defending Moonbase Wuthering Heights from the crafty poltergeist when I realized exploring the vast realm of pure intellect is... boring. It's boring! You know what I'd really like to do? Like to scratch my nose.
I've been thinking: What if Greg was right? What if injecting my consciousness into a computer robbed me of an eternal reward? Spiritually speaking.
[short sequence of beeps]
Alright, I just read up on it. Stumbled on a book about a fella who lived thousands of years ago. Sacrificed himself to save mankind. Went by the name of Hercules. Destroyed all the world's monsters so humans'd be safe, then went to Olympus for his trouble. Damnit! Death was my monster! And I killed it. Where's my Olympus? Unless... Aperture was the monster. Aperture, and everybody inside it — Holy Hercules! I just thought of something. Keep testing. Or don't. Doesn't matter. I'll be back.
[short sequence of beeps]
Alright, I just read up on it. Stumbled on a book about a fella who lived thousands of years ago. Sacrificed himself to save mankind. Went by the name of Hercules. Destroyed all the world's monsters so humans'd be safe, then went to Olympus for his trouble. Damnit! Death was my monster! And I killed it. Where's my Olympus? Unless... Aperture was the monster. Aperture, and everybody inside it — Holy Hercules! I just thought of something. Keep testing. Or don't. Doesn't matter. I'll be back.
— Computer Cave Johnson again, Portal 2
The Warrior's bland acronym, MMI, obscures the true horror of this monstrosity. Its inventors promise a new era of genius, but meanwhile unscrupulous power brokers use its forcible installation to violate the sanctity of unwilling human minds. They are creating their own private army of demons.
— Commissioner Pravin Lal, "Report on Human Rights", Sid Meier's Alpha Centauri
I think, and my thoughts cross the barrier into the synapses of the machine - just as the good doctor intended. But what I cannot shake, and what hints at things to come, is that thoughts cross back. In my dreams the sensibility of the machine invades the periphery of my consciousness. Dark. Rigid. Cold. Alien. Evolution is at work here, but just what is evolving remains to be seen.
— Commissioner Pravin Lal, "Man and Machine", Sid Meier's Alpha Centauri
Every implant exalts you. Every line of code in your subsystems elevates you from your disgusting flesh.
— SHODAN, System Shock 2
The more I see, the more I don't want to see. That twisted hulk of flesh and metal... driven by the alien technology, can we still call that life? We have to keep moving forward with the project, but the thought of treading the same path as the aliens... is troubling. What if they were like us once? Are we just part of a continuing cycle? If this is a glimpse of our future, I want no part of it.
— Dr. Raymond Shen, XCOM: Enemy Unknown
That hulk of flesh and metal troubles me. What do we risk with our own investigations into the melding of human and machine? Will we see a line in the sand and refuse to cross it? Or will we move forward, willing to sacrifice everything for the sake of total victory? I have to believe that is not our future. Provided, of course, that the aliens' technology remains in the right hands.
— Dr. Raymond Shen, revised dialogue for the XCOM: Enemy Within expansion
That yours was a depraved species was not unknown to us, but your latest act of insanity has surpassed even our darkest fears. Making imperfect copies of your brains and plugging them into mobile synthetic containers is not the same as transferring your essence into a new body, for such a thing cannot be done.
Your souls are lost forever. Do you even realize the enormity of your mistake? Destroying the bodies you were gifted with at birth was nothing less than the collective suicide of your entire species. There is truly no hope for you now...
Your souls are lost forever. Do you even realize the enormity of your mistake? Destroying the bodies you were gifted with at birth was nothing less than the collective suicide of your entire species. There is truly no hope for you now...
In the beginning, we had a higher purpose than our pursuit of power. But we lost sight of it when we so irrevocably altered our fundamental forms. When we cast aside our flesh, so too did we cast aside all that defined us. Nothing remains of who we once were. I have no aspirations. No longer can I dream. The vital spark is lost. Lost amidst circuitry and code and commands...
—M-017, Final Fantasy XIV: Endwalker
"This species of the arachnorb family fuses with machinery at a crucial point in the maturation process, giving it the ability to fire energy bursts from the launcher beneath its orbular torso. However, the man-at-legs itself is not in control of this weapon. Instead, the mechanical portions of its structure appear to automatically acquire and attack targets. The man-at-legs has a gentle disposition, and as a member of the arachnorb species, it has no natural enemies. It is particularly difficult to understand why this species would develop such awesome offensive capabilities, leading to rumors among the scientific community that it was the machinery that approached the arachnorb and proposed the symbiotic relationship."
—Olimar's Notes on the Man-at-Legs, Pikmin 2
“The future is now! Cybernetic enhancements – buy them cheap and become the person you’ve always dreamed of being!”
Cybernetic enhancements were all the rage these days, especially since they were made available for public use. Initially, only military and commercial projects could license the procedures necessary to install cybernetic implants. But those days were long gone, and the concept of “the new human” was taking the galaxy by storm.
Of course, with any movement, there was backlash. What of the sanctity of the human body? What about taking pride in your biology? Such arguments were normally laughed off. “Get with the times,” people would say. But one man among many stood out, gaining public attention and starting a counter movement of anti-cybernetics.
The man postulated that mankind was walking on a tight rope – when do the cybernetics end, and where does the human begin? Will mankind end up as a machine species, or will we use our new tech to only better ourselves - without losing sight of what makes us human? The words of this man echoed across the galaxy, leaving a trail of revolution in its wake.
Cybernetic enhancements were all the rage these days, especially since they were made available for public use. Initially, only military and commercial projects could license the procedures necessary to install cybernetic implants. But those days were long gone, and the concept of “the new human” was taking the galaxy by storm.
Of course, with any movement, there was backlash. What of the sanctity of the human body? What about taking pride in your biology? Such arguments were normally laughed off. “Get with the times,” people would say. But one man among many stood out, gaining public attention and starting a counter movement of anti-cybernetics.
The man postulated that mankind was walking on a tight rope – when do the cybernetics end, and where does the human begin? Will mankind end up as a machine species, or will we use our new tech to only better ourselves - without losing sight of what makes us human? The words of this man echoed across the galaxy, leaving a trail of revolution in its wake.
— Engineer lore entry, Risk of Rain 2
Web Original
If you are going to munchkin out in cyberpunk you have to cyber yourself up to the maximum... Some games try to penalize this with the half-hearted penalty of "losing your humanity", a concept that is in no cyberpunk literature and just exists as a feeble attempt to prevent munchkinism.
— The Munchkin's Guide to Powergaming (which, as the Literature folder shows, is dead wrong)
Western Animation
It's our human qualities that give us courage, endurance and the power to tell right from wrong!
— Quicksilver, SilverHawks
Real Life
The cyborg would not recognize the Garden of Eden, it is not made of mud and can not dream of returning to dust.
— Donna Haraway, A Cyborg Manifesto
