In my lifetime, maybe in the next generation after me, we will so much about the human genome that we probably will be able to do what we want it. Extend life? Sure.
Think about that. This may be the last or the next to last generation that death of old age is a factor in human existence. The mind staggers at the concept of it, doesn’t it? Now, you’ll object that “but humans will fill the earth and consume all resources”. But ask yourself, who among you would not take the pill or the cocktail if offered? Maybe you’d live a thousand years before chance caught up and you died from a falling piano or a speeding car.
Death is the great bogeyman that have haunted humanity since we first linked the concept of life and death abstractly. Religions have been invented to circumvent the black hole of knowing that one day, oblivion and personal extinction await.
I was talking about this with Stephen this evening, and he was the sceptic in question, raising all the questions that arise. But by talking to mum, knowing what people are doing in labs around the world, death most likely will be defeated.
And then… won’t we then have toppled the gods from their mental thrones forever? If we can defeat death, then we can create life. If we can create life, and we already can, then aren’t we the vengeful gods of the mythologies?
I can’t wait. I feel for a bit of smiting. I have a list of people who need a good dose of smiting.
Would you want to live forever?
In the brutal, prolonged War of the Sofa, I have come up as the winner, finally. We are getting a new one for Christmas. My great victory is due to the fact that one of the dogs, most likely Watson, have chewed on the armrest so that the upholstery has started to poke out.
This is something we have not seen before, and I was pleasantly surprised when I spotted it as I removed the cloth cover on it so that I could wash away the dog hairs. When Mark saw it, he relented. My eyes glaze over with the possibilities. I think that the combination of comfy and style is possible. Mark is not so certain. But he is defeated. Quashed. Vanquished. Mouahahaha. , We’re getting a new sofa!
The budgerigars have witnessed my victory dance because they have been put into the office upstairs. Their chirping have confirmed my status as the ruler of the universe, and the lord of the Sofa Wars.
When it comes to a sense of style, my man’s is hideously deformed. The other day we passed by a shop with home interior design items. You know the type of store; lots of impractical teapots and non-functional steel cutlery. And the price tags are through the roof, because the brands are top design houses.
This shop was a half-way second-hand, half-way antiques shop, and had a selection of little porcelain things. While my eyes caught a nice big earthenware terracotta teapot, his eyes caught some Dutch porcelain trinkets. My man thinks porcelain Dutch clogs are nice. He actually thinks that those things are stylish. I may therefore have a bigger task on my hands than I initially thought. Not only does he tolerate the hideous sofa in our lounge for nigh on half a year now, he also likes hideous decorative porcelain.
I’m almost glad we’re don’t have the money to decorate the house, and have to live on rejects from family and friends. It makes me tremble what might cross our threshold once we start to make some actual money in the future.