Burnt Toast: Who Wants to Live Forever?

Published on Tuesday, 07 August 2012 07:00

Written by Berndt Hannweg

What does it really mean to be immortal?

“I don’t want to achieve immortality through my work,” said acclaimed comedic director Woody Allen, “I want to achieve it through not dying.”

Immortality means many different things to many different people, but in our mundane world, short on genies and wish-granting fairies as it is, immortality is in fact, our legacy. It is the drive to leave behind something which will guarantee your name a place in the history books forever.

Three news stories the past fortnight showcased what it really means to be immortal.

The first was that of a farmer from Bloemhof by the name of At van der Merwe, who was murdered on his farm in April. With no surviving relatives (having survived his two sisters), At donated his estate to the Abraham Kriel Children’s Home.

So the fortunate occupants of the Home woke up one day to the princely sum of R30 million, which will be put into a trust until such a time that they can determine what to do with their windfall.

It’s almost certain that by the time the next issue of VARSITY comes out, we will all have forgotten At’s name, but I suspect that the beneficiaries of his estate, and all the people the Home helps in the coming years probably never will. Doubtless, some will pay it forward.

Our second story is somewhat less recent than a July bequest. But only by about 370 million years.

Last Wednesday, scientists published a study about a fossilised insect hailing from Belgium. With the hip and catchy name Strudiella devonica, the insect is one of the earliest complete insect fossils ever found, and will go a long way to plugging the gaps in our knowledge regarding the evolutionary chain.

The public will forget this fellow’s name even quicker than that of generous At (can YOU recall what the fossil’s name was?), but its legacy will probably outlast us all. Somewhere, in a vast tome where they record all scientific knowledge, Ol’ Strudy will exist as a small link between earlier life and the current mosquito.

The third and final story was that of the Apollo Moon Missions. Orbital fly-overs have revealed that five of the six flags placed on the moon by the Americans are still standing, surviving as they have solar radiation and the vagaries of life on our gray companion. The exception is the flag from Apollo 11, which was knocked over when Buzz and Neil left the moon back in ’69.

These flags have not only exceeded expectations, they have outlasted the various space programs that placed them there. As Futurama so jokingly predicted, once man gets to the moon, they will undoubtedly be enshrined for future generations to enjoy.

Until science finds a chemical way to get our cells to stop self-destructing after 70 years, mankind’s only real shot at immortality is to build a legacy that will stand the test of time.