We Have A Lot To Talk About
I rather like the idea of a dog with human intelligence, which is one of Dean's better books. His Frankenstein books are clearly observations on a corrupt society. The monster has far more humanity than his evil creator. However the possibility of man creating life, whether it be human or animal, clones or not, has never been abandoned by science fiction. Or science for that matter. It began in the book of Genesis with the Nephilim.
Following is a spoof on a genetically modified man talking to his GMO wife:
Every day I kiss a strange girl. And also,
every night I kiss a strange girl. The same girl—you. Strangely beautiful!
Not everyone has such a lovely third leg, and
you should be proud of it. You saw the admiration in my lingering glances at
your three lovely legs long before I ever asked you to be my wife.
How do I love you? Let me count the ways.
I love the way you wear that safety pin
through your eyebrow. An eyebrow could fall off, and I wouldn’t want you to
lose it the way you lose your ears. I really don’t mind when you borrow mine. I
have ears to spare, and mine look good on you.
Genetic-recombining is becoming so popular,
even though geneticists have had some mishaps. One modified fellow came out of
the lab missing his entire left side. He’s all right now though, and in his
right mind. He’s going to run for office. Probably as a Republican.
I love how active you are. Because of Genetically
Modified Organisms, the gun manufacturers have come out with specially adapted
weapons which have multi-handed grips and triggers. Naturally, some politicians
are already trying to ban them. I was so proud when you sent a letter to the
editor to explain that a man dropped dead in Iowa while pulling on his pants.
“Obviously, pants kill people and should be banned,” you wrote. After that,
people started sending dozens of designer pants to Hillary Clinton. And she
wears them. What a brave woman!
Because of you, my little GMO activist, we
have the Citizens-Against-Pants people. Think of the lives you’ve saved. And
here’s another thing. The clothing designers are having a field day creating pantless-safe
attire. Everything from Scottish kilts to speedo wrap-arounds. You’ve created
more jobs than Steve Jobs. The insurance companies even have a new policy
offered to pants-owners who prefer to wear their dangerous, life-threatening
trousers.
I want to let you know how fabulous you are. I
wish I had taken you out to dinner more often to your favorite restaurant. The
one that offers genetically modified food for Genetically Modified Organisms.
Did I tell you, they have started a trend by adapting their tables to the many
GMOs who are over 400 pounds?
Of course, the Obesity Supporters applaud the heavy
weights. Oprah Winfrey hosted a special show titled, Obesity is Optimal. Marie
Osmond was not invited. That woman has lost fifty pounds so many times she
should be shrunk to nothing by now. Kinda like the invisible shrinking man. He
still exists somewhere. Fighting off amoebas and paramecium.
I do wish I had confronted you more when you
deserved it, like the time you told everyone that I don’t allow you out at night
because you might eat the neighbor’s cat. I know you don’t eat cats. It just
bothered me because some people might think that you really do. You know how
hateful those GMO-Lives-Don’t-Matter people can be. Did you hear their
president died from a freak accident? A freak fell on him. Since then, that
group has all but disappeared from the world. They’re more afraid of freaks
than pants.
We’re seeing far more intelligent and discerning
clubs because of GMOs like you. The Tooth-Fairy fundraisers. The People-Who-Eat-Laundry-Soap-Packets
supporters. I’m so amazed that anyone ever thought to do that. We’ll be seeing
brain surgeons and nuclear scientists coming out of that movement, for sure.
I especially like the Black-Labs-Matter Foundation.
Labradors are fine dogs. So are yellow labs and white labs for that matter. We
just aren’t allowed to mention them. It’s far too racist and discriminatory.
So, my darling wife, sit down with me on the
love seat and prop your three pretty feet beside my eight. We have a lot to
talk about. You see, I’m expecting. I know. We didn’t think it would ever
happen outside the laboratory. But it has! I think we’ll be needing more than
one nest. I’m hoping they all hatch out and already have jobs.
Who knows? We may even have them matured in
time to run for president against Hillary next time. Although she’s always been
well suited for president. Pant-suited that is. If we allow our youngsters to
wear pants we must warn them. Those who get too big for their pants are always
fully exposed in the end.
Now about the neighbor’s cat. I’m pretty sure
he ran off with one of your ears. Never mind. I’ll lend you another one of mine.
.