Lister: Come on, Rimmer, look on the bright side.
Rimmer: The bright side? What bright side? I'm dead, I'm composed entirely of light, and I'm alone in space with a man who'd lose a battle of wits with a stuffed iguana. Where's the bright side?
Lister: ...What's an iguana? And look, you're not dead, are you? I mean, you're dead! But you're not dead dead, because you're still here, aren't you?
Rimmer: Lister, I'm not really here! I'm not really me! Don't you see? I'm a computer simulation of me. That's me, there — that pile of albino mouse droppings.
Rimmer: The bright side? What bright side? I'm dead, I'm composed entirely of light, and I'm alone in space with a man who'd lose a battle of wits with a stuffed iguana. Where's the bright side?
Lister: ...What's an iguana? And look, you're not dead, are you? I mean, you're dead! But you're not dead dead, because you're still here, aren't you?
Rimmer: Lister, I'm not really here! I'm not really me! Don't you see? I'm a computer simulation of me. That's me, there — that pile of albino mouse droppings.
The thing was, Saunders was an engineer, not a philosopher — and the way he saw it, you were either dead or you were alive. And if you were dead, you shouldn't be forced to fill in endless incomprehensible forms and other related nonsensica. You shouldn't have to return your birth certificate, to have it invalidated. You shouldn't have to send off your completed death certificate, accompanied by a passport-sized photograph of your corpse, signed on the back by your coroner. When you're dead, you should be dead. The bastards should leave you alone.
If Saunders could have picked something up, he would have picked something up and hurled it across the grey metal room. But he couldn't. Saunders was a hologram. He was just a computer-generated simulation of his former self; he couldn't actually touch anything, except for his own hologramatic body. He was a phantom made of light. A software ghost.
If Saunders could have picked something up, he would have picked something up and hurled it across the grey metal room. But he couldn't. Saunders was a hologram. He was just a computer-generated simulation of his former self; he couldn't actually touch anything, except for his own hologramatic body. He was a phantom made of light. A software ghost.
— Red Dwarf: Infinity Welcomes Careful Drivers
"Given a dark enough environment, this projector, this wonder of modern science, allows me to appear before you today! No more shall my talents be confined to the time at which I display them, but instead I am able to perform again and again, to live on through the ages! And with a case as challenging as yours, I need all the time I can get..."
— Dr. Killjoy, The Suffering
