Tag Archives: humor

Scrambled Genes With Ham

Food and drink appears when summoned with the magic of Star Trek food replicators.

Soon this fiction may become fact. Meat may be the first food to get replicated out of practically nothing. No need for a farm anymore. Meat can be produced minus the bones and internal organs of an animal. A laboratory can grow animal stem cells to create a meat-like material. Even a bird feather can grow meat.

This may seem unnatural, but is it fair for animals to be raised and then slaughtered to please human appetites? Animal-rights activists may consider this a win.

Farms pollute with fertilizers, the animals produce greenhouse gases and water resources are consumed. So a win for climate change activists and environmentalists.

High animal fat diets aren’t doing Americans any favors for their girth. Doctors rejoice.

Genetic modification of this lab-created meat makes both the research and the production of it easier. So if it helps create and lowers costs, GMO it will be. How else can you create a chicken out of a feather without some serious tinkering? Protests in the future of the non-GMO crowd.

The meat lovers out there may cause a stink too. Even with the scientific advances of Star Trek, humans complained about replicated food and yearned for the real thing. (Yeah, it’s real to me, I dream of beaming down to a planet since it’s easier than that shuttle craft.)

And besides, growing only local, organic, pure, unmodified food is not a reality for feeding the huge human world population. You need modification, pollutants, water waste, methane, all the evils to keep humanity going.

The mighty Amazon may also feel some pain. That drone delivery can’t beat my replicator.

Another puzzling problem pops up: Cannibalism. In the future, will you not only be able to say, “What person would you most like to eat dinner with?” You may say, “What person would you like to taste?”

As usual, solutions create problems.

Dreams of a Voyeur

I confess, I am a voyeur. I spy on birds by luring them in with feeders, birdbaths and flowers. The squirrels come even though I don’t try to lure them in.

A utility area near the house was filled in with stones recently. The squirrels began to check out the terracotta-color stones immediately.

Through my kitchen window, I saw a squirrel pick up a stone, examine it intensely, take a nibble on it, then throw it down. What a silly squirrel, he thinks that rock is a nut. Then he picked up another one and ran off with it.

I guess he took it somewhere safe to hide until it was ripe enough to crack. Maybe a windowsill or the garage. Or in the flower beds and shrubs where I find many of those rocks half buried.

One night I had a vivid dream of this squirrel activity. In my dream I picked up a stone and nibbled at it. Then I said to myself, “The squirrels are right, these stones taste good.” Most dreams I forget, but this one keeps running through my head. This must be a case of squirrelmorphism. 

My Ulterior Self


Paper Trail

To receipt or not to receipt?

I usually opt for receipt. My brain tracks money better when I use paper records. I may also be one of the last people on earth that balances my checkbook and credit card bills every month.

Many years ago when newspapers and television were the only media, reports swirled around that store receipts were too toxic to handle. A few months later the media retracted this idea and receipt touching got the all clear.

The fear is back. The last few years media outlets report that receipts contain BPA which appears as a white, powdery substance.

Besides skipping a receipt prevents wasting resources on paper, ink and maintenance. Also wasteful are cashiers and cash registers. Just swipe, bag, walk out, choose no receipt option. Oh yeah, that already happens.

But maybe a swipe is too much work. Just thinking about purchasing an item should be enough. Cell phones or a chip implant identify us everywhere. They know our financial connections. Past history identifies a preferred delivery method and stuff can show up on the porch.

My OCD brain would unravel. Just how am I going to balance a checkbook if I can’t remember when, where and how I bought those shoes in my closet? I better keep my mind from wandering. The bottom line will get harder to reach when memory fails.