It's Time We Had a Conversation About Cloning (It's Time We Had a Conversation About Cloning)

We've come a long way from the nascency of cloning, wherein we witnessed crude and rudimentary experimentation progress to ever more complex and sophisticated forms, id est,  from Sylvester Stallone's Rocky movies, to single-cell organisms, to sheep. Now, standing on the shoulders of giants, we find ourselves on the mountaintop, at the cusp of a new era. Arrayed before us, as far as the eye can see, is the fertile crescent of human endeavor we call "Possiblity." Fortunate, indeed, are we who now can see that which before we could not see: our future, nay our very destiny. And this, too, we call "Possibility," because, having exhausted our supply of cliches and hackneyed phrases, we cannot think of what else to call it. And so we conclude that our future and our destiny both share the same name, which, (the reader will recall from the previous sentence), we have dubbed, "Possibility." Could they be related -- the future and our destiny?  They sure look alike.  They have the same nose. Which brings us, mercilessly, to  the next paragraph. 

Now that cloning has become mere child's play, should we let our children play with it? What about the rest of us who are not our children? Will we be able to resist the compulsion to clone ourselves? Confronted at every turn with the choice to clone or not, will we be able to foresee each and every...what?...ramification? No!  Our old friend, "Possibility!"  If we choose to clone ourselves repeatedly, how will we treat the opportunity to be present but not paying attention in multiple venues simultaneously?

 More importantly, will each one of our cloned selves be taxed, and if so, at the same rate? Can we claim the dependent deductions for our clones? Or can we be a cloned person filing jointly? As with all things having to do with Internal Revenue, the answer is "It depends." 

If taxation is not your bailiwick (if it is, please do not clone yourself; we'll pay you), you may wish to consider a few additional scenarios (a/k/a "Possibilities") which you have not, heretofore, considered.  For example, will you be allowed to clone enough of yourself(ves) to outvote the other shareholders, perhaps even take over the board of directors one fine day?  What about place holding while waiting on line at the Registry of Motor Vehicles or seat saving at the movies? Ethical?  Or un? Who can say?  Ordinarily, Time would tell, but in this case, Time aint talkin', at least not without a big, fat incentive.

And what about the following? If we are already unlucky in the uncloned state, will our clones just carry on the tradition, like all of us having to sit through unremittingly boring lectures constantly, or always bumping our head(s) absent-mindedly on the same low-hanging branches distributed unevenly throughout the town? And what if we never have anything good to wear -- exponentially? It's enough to make you dizzy and a little nauseous.  Eat a piece of raw ginger.  You'll feel better.

Speaking of eating, better be prepared to just have to buy groceries nonstop, because youse will always be eating yourself(ves) out of house and home. See how quickly "Possibility" has changed its name to "Frahnkunshteen?" Hate to say it, but someone had to say it, and Time, as you know, refuses to say it. Don't shoot the messenger, OK?  You can slap the messenger around a little bit for show, but that's it. No shooting.

Maybe we should climb back down off the mountaintop and re-think this whole cloning thing. Possibility will just have to wait for something else. And, anyway, we're afraid of heights.