A recent article published in The Daily Mail insists that mankind will look exactly the same eons into the future as he does now. Evolution, the piece argues, is at an end; there is simply no other reason for modern man to evolve, because the weakest and sickest members of our species – thanks to advances in medicine and technology- are now just as viable as the strongest.
With no incentive for change, evolution (apparently a slacker at heart,) will just quit. Our high-technology has ceased our physical evolution, it says, but I posit that quite the opposite is true: Our physical evolution, from this point forward, will be spurred onward by technology, because what constitutes a valid mate is now more determined by one’s ability to excel with the inventions of man, rather than the superior physical abilities of the people themselves.
And that’s where evolution comes in, because these technologies are not always suited to our exact physical specifications, indeed, many of them are at extreme odds with our bodies. And when you pit millennia of hard science and advanced technology against the soft, doughy physique of modern man, it’s pretty obvious which one wins out. We have to adapt, just not the ways you might think:
Long Range Lovin’
The optimistic and the eloquent amongst us may tell you that the advanced technologies of man have dictated that the nature of love and the foundation of our relationships have expanded. That’s a lot of fancy words just to say that, thanks to science, you can try to fuck anybody in the world right now from the comfort of your own home – it’s just that fucking might not mean what it used to. Because the survival of our species still depends on our ability to reproduce, however, our current reproductive methods are going to have to adapt to the new sex. How will evolution address this sticky concern? Why, long range sperm, of course!
The current sperm is woefully inadequate for the needs of the modern woman and, rather than just buying a gold Hummer and a vanity license plate, will most likely have to evolve to be a far hardier thing. Rather than dying mere moments after being discharged into a willing partner or obliging dirty T-shirt, the sperm of the future will have to survive being mailed across entire continents just to fulfill the biological imperative of lonely nerds across the globe. The new sperm will have to be stronger than a tiny, sticky Terminator, a better survivor than a wriggling Mad Max, and generally built like the Six-Million Dollar Man: Better, faster, stronger.
Junk Helmets
The past measure of a man’s success could be anything from his physical prowess and rugged good looks to his surpassing intelligence and creativity, while the measure of modern’s man success is more akin to the hit count of his latest Youtube video. To that end, it seems inevitable that the body of man will eventually adapt to the needs of the mighty viral video, and if anything has proven a surefire success on the internet – it’s a good quick whack to the balls. But the chief danger of this behavior is, ironically, sterility. So how can modern man survive when the best way to draw a mate and reproduce is by taking a potentially sterilizing super-poke to the old junk-heap from a man in a clown suit? Simple: A protective genital shell!
It’s not that crazy; many species have evolved hardened protecting shells over their internal organs or brains, is it really such a stretch to apply those same working principles to the dongle? The added bonus of a giant unbreakable bulge can’t hurt your chances either.
Fingerhands
Not all changes have to be relegated to the junk, however, a rather simple but inevitable alteration to our physique could simply be an update to the things that made us superior in the first place: Our hands. More and more is required of our hands every day – from keyboards, cell-phones, video games – so much functionality is added daily to every device in our arsenal; it’s apparent that we’ll need a few extra fingers at the least just to keep up with all of the buttons.
One day, thanks to evolution, maybe we’ll have a few extra fingers (but hopefully we’ll be less of a shirtless douchebag about them,) and those ridiculously tiny nubs on our cellphones will stop tripping us up, causing embarrassing typos and errant texts to be sent to the worst of all possible wrong contacts. God willing, the utopian future will have eliminated all chance of telling our humorless and furious bosses that they are “naughty girls” who most assuredly “want it bad,” and gone will be the carefully worded texts reassuring our drunken flings that the baby isn’t theirs… that we just sent to our frail and ancient grandmothers.
Internet Memory
Likewise, not all changes will even have to be outwardly apparent; our brains are changing physically every day. There are lobes that manage short term memory, hemispheres that dictate emotion, and any number of nodes responsible for everything from the basest instinct to simple voice recognition. It’s very likely that we’ll need a drastic reordering of these points just to deal with the increasingly complicated duties of everyday life in the future.
Though what, exactly, these changes are will likely depend on the role of your online persona: Maybe you’ll develop a wiki-lobe, whose only duty in the brain is to create and file slightly erroneous information about the mating habits of fictional fantasy animals. Or maybe you’re a more socially geared creature, in which case you might develop a Facebook lobe – one that exists only to calculate the fluctuating trend of your friends’ respective brain ages against their ratings of attractiveness. Or, and far more likely, you might evolve a massive and raging porn lobe – a throbbing mass that catalogues, recalls, and responds to the vast indexes of pornography that assail you at every waking moment.
How else will we, as a species, remember the rich archives of our past sexuality – classics like the Dirty Sanchez and the Hot Carl – much less the varied and manifold perversions that will surely develop in the future, such as the Yankee Potroast, the Spider-job, or the terrifying, but strangely alluring 2 Girls 2 Fast 2 Furious?
Read more from Robert at his own site, I Fight Robots.
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