Brain Upload
Brain Upload
[Megan is standing in front of the control panel of a device with both hands on the keyboard. The device is linked to Cueball's heads through a wire that goes to a cap on top of Cueball's head, where it spreads out in more than ten wires connecting to different places all over the cap. Cueball sits, hands in his laps, on a kind of table on the other side of the device facing Megan.] Megan: Neural-digital link established. Ready to upload your consciousness to the computer? Cueball: Sure, go for it.
[Same setting in a frame-less panel, but Megan presses a button on the keyboard with one hand and a flash of light goes through the wire and around Cueballs head. Cueball seems to jerk as his hands are lifted from his lap and his legs move a little forward.] Computer: Bzzzzzzt
[Same setting again but Megan seems to be typing harder on the keys (shown with small lines above her hands on the keyboard) and Cueball sits normally again but one hand further back than in the first panel.] Megan: ...Hmm. Cueball: What?
[Same as first panel but Megan looks a little more down on the keyboard.] Megan: It's not responding - the whole system is frozen. I think the transfer failed. Cueball: No, that sounds right.

Megan is uploading Cueball's consciousness into a computer device attached to his head via a cap on his skull. After the upload, the computer seems to have stopped responding to inputs, causing Megan to conclude that the process has failed, however Cueball insists the transfer could have worked, or at least gave the correct response (although that response could also be from the transfer failing). This is because that is the kind of behaviour he is used to experiencing from his own brain.
Sometimes computers can seem to be "frozen" - i.e. non-responsive to any user input; but if left alone for long enough, they sometimes snap out of it. In fact, it is impossible for a computer to determine (for all cases) if a program will eventually stop (see halting problem ).
The potential benefits of the fictional technology used in this comic are obvious, and this type of "transfer" has been subject of various science fiction works. It could allow for a form of immortality or serve as a "backup" for someone's mind.
In the title text Cueball (or Randall ) indicates that this kind of non-response from the brain (or a computer) is something he just experienced when trying to write a email and then failing to get started for 20 minutes while he (i.e. his brain) tried to decide the "very important" detail of whether to begin the email with 'Hi' or 'Hey' - a detail that is really trivial, as this has little consequence (in any normal relationship with friends that you wish to email this informally).
[Megan is standing in front of the control panel of a device with both hands on the keyboard. The device is linked to Cueball's heads through a wire that goes to a cap on top of Cueball's head, where it spreads out in more than ten wires connecting to different places all over the cap. Cueball sits, hands in his laps, on a kind of table on the other side of the device facing Megan.] Megan: Neural-digital link established. Ready to upload your consciousness to the computer? Cueball: Sure, go for it.
[Same setting in a frame-less panel, but Megan presses a button on the keyboard with one hand and a flash of light goes through the wire and around Cueballs head. Cueball seems to jerk as his hands are lifted from his lap and his legs move a little forward.] Computer: Bzzzzzzt
[Same setting again but Megan seems to be typing harder on the keys (shown with small lines above her hands on the keyboard) and Cueball sits normally again but one hand further back than in the first panel.] Megan: ...Hmm. Cueball: What?
[Same as first panel but Megan looks a little more down on the keyboard.] Megan: It's not responding - the whole system is frozen. I think the transfer failed. Cueball: No, that sounds right.
