for Nick Bostrom
His mind fixed on the future of his race,
He pondered inner and then outer space.
Emerging paradigms and novel memes
Engaged his thoughts and occupied his dreams.
As both imagineer and fantasist,
He coveted the title “Futurist”
And fancied that with skill he might forecast
A future more successful than our past:
A time of thriving Transhumanity
Beyond our history of insanity,
Cured finally of egotistic sin,
More confident than we have ever been
That by cooperation we’ll succeed
In fashioning a lasting, happy breed.