Thursday, April 21, 2005

Much Ado about cloning

Primordial men were largely driven by instincts. These instincts were propelled by the need to relieve the cry of hunger, pain and sex. This is still largely the way we see a lot of the lower animals. It also suffices to say, that, when an otherwise civilised enclave is reduced to a jungle (e.g. Naija), then the inhabitants fallback on primordial instincts i.e., they become lower animals, relinquishing the title “homo”.

In a world which left the cave man little room for reasoning, he had a ordered existence. This revolved around sheltering in caves, hunting and gathering in the wild, and copulating whenever he fancies. In essence, these essential chores provided an opportunity of escape from his brutish existence, driving him towards pleasurable ends. Of all the pleasurable experiences, copulating provide the most mythical and also mystical experience. By removing the discomforts he also guaranteed his survival. And he indeed survived for as long as he could manage (or nature allowed) and procreated while doing so. The procreative act thus guaranteed the continuation of his specie.

It can be argued, that the primary purpose of copulation (pollination, mating, etc. if you like) is to procreate (and not to pleasure) so as to ensure the continuance of organisms. There is this tacit recognition of the ingenuity of the gods (or mother nature) in the act of copulation. To make the act effective, in fulfilling its primary purpose, the gods made it not only attractive, but also interesting and alluring by adding a sweenter. Call this “bisociative creativity” if you will. It can also be argued that without this sweetner, a lot of organisms that are in abundance today, would not have been. Maybe I would not even be here writing this “gibberish”. Now, the tenant is gradually becoming the landlord. The sweenter is succeeding with the coup, and procreation is gradually being pushed towards the gaol. The advent of cloning is therefore timely. The sexual act can thus relinquish its primary purpose, handing it over to the clone process, and what will have left will be just for fun (I mean this literally, no pun intended). Albeit with cloning you will be sure of what you are getting; if not close in cranial capacity, but at least in an exact replication of the physical attributes. And if you don’t like you, then you can steal somebody else’s cell. Cloning would inadvertently remove the worries associated with the vagaries of permutations of the game “cell catch a cell in a million cell whirlpool”.

If the success of a product or procedure is determined by its acceptability, and this of course is inherently linked to its perceived usefulness, then, cloning might just succeed in a vain environment characterised by conspicuous consumption.

Tarry a while and allow me, please. With Cloning complemented with a better understanding of the intricacies of genetic engineering and micro surgery, with an added gravy in the discovery of a futuristic process which I shall term “Gene/Cell Localisation Isolation Modification and Acceleration”, GLIMA for short, there might just be no stopping us now (sounds like Luther’s Ain’ no stoppin us now), at least, from being like the gods. When (and not if) such a time arrives, humans and human parts, will not only be successfully cloned, but such cloned products will be growth accelerated. In essence an embryo can be accelerated into a developed (adult) form, within a short time span. If you think not, it might be worthwhile remembering that, some animals are known to have the ability to grow back certain parts of their anatomy that are lost (e.g sea lobster).

Before long there would be a market for cloned organic parts, and of course (trust Nija people) a proliferation of “Parts Renewal shops” (remember otokoto). I could just imagine what effect such organic spares would have on relationships amongst lovers.
I digress. A man for instance, that imagines rightly (or otherwise) that a certain part of his anatomy (which exemplifies his manliness) is in-appropriately designed, now has a recourse, he simply gets the dysfunctional part chopped off and gets a new one attached, call this a detached dick (or as my friends from Ibadan will say putting the two words together detasidi); Shikena-end of story. And if he still remains dissatisfied with the new one he goes for something better.

For the womenfolk, there would be infinite adventures in change of looks. You could simply move from a 32B to a 34E ( and maybe back) without any worry of the after effect of a silicon implant. A short visit to the spares stores shall do this for you. And thinking of Nija men and their main source of attention on women (you guessed right- the bakassi), it would serve women a good purpose to go for occasional upgrades. And just imagine the effect a new and improved bakassi will have on Oga (I beg to say, Na die). I’ll bet, no more going out for him until a full cycle of exploring, appraising, developing, producing, selling (to whom? Well remember the Tiv land of old, I no like dis one O!!) and the eventual abandonment is completed. And women being as smart as they are, will as a matter of pragmatism get a new prospect (I’m sorry. bakassi), before the preceding cycle is complete.

What an effect all these changes will have on relationships in general and copulating in particular (remember this was what started this tirade). This particular act is something that has been mystified. Hard as I’ve tried, I’m not yet close to solving this mystery. Maybe, the mystery is related to the mist called femininity, or maybe, at its end lies a myth. Or maybe, it is simply magic. Or maybe, it is just the metaphorical expression for the whole of nature. Or maybe, it is just for its plain old sweetness we get drawn to it. Relationships are made by it and are also broken by it.

Back to the issue of organic parts. Talking about detasidi, mother nature should have engineered some organic parts evolving into detachable elements. And when you think about it, this would have gone a long way in preventing sexual promiscuity. With Iranlowo (Analy Injected Death Sentence --- this was the general misconception that was created in its early days) still very much in the air, sexual interaction is still largely taken as a hand shake. And it seems almost everybody is shaken almost everybody else (If you doubt this, then check front page of the Nija Guardian of 11/05/97 ---- “Nigerians consume I65 million condoms in four years”). I’m sure being saddled with a detasidi will be a big blow to men. And of course most women will simply uncouple their partners detasidi and safely tuck it into their handbags. That way, they will be sure their partners will not be up to any silly game. But again, this may not be a safe alternative. A woman might just desire somebody else’s partners detasidi, (I’m sure Sigmund Freud will call this penis envy ) and decide to steal same. The owner on the discovery of the theft, may employ force to get it back. Before you say “Jack Robinson ” a fight would have ensued at Okere market. The two will be at war, and at its end, a ruined detasidi. And of course, a man somewhere with a broken life. When two women (Oh, na elephants) fight; the detasidi (I’m sorry ,the grass) gets ruined (again!!! hurt). In a world in which men are still trying to wrestle control from women (sounds debatable), giving the women ability to “detach” at will, will completely enslave men (it is not as if they are not enslaved already, abi? all married men are “Supa Mugun” including yours truly). Mother nature is right after all for making it the way it is. Thank God.

Sexual promiscuity sometimes elicit different feelings, depending on the gender of the person afflicted. For a man, this might translate to mean being a stud (usually a title of “woman wrapper” is positively appended to the afflicted); for a woman however, this connotes being a slut (as if this is not derogatory enough, she might be ascribed the appendage “Donatus”). One of the many piss-head shrinks I met in my voyage through Seismic field crews, while entrenched in one of his drunken stupor put it this way “ A man is a tap, and everyone comes to it for a drink; a woman is a cup, and this just can’t be shared”. What male chauvinism!!. To his assertion I say bull and baloney. The spokesperson for the womenfolk may just reply “A man is a bucket that comes to a well for a drink. Most often than not, the “well” does not even fill the presence of the bucket.”

“Get back to earth Jagu, enough of this fantasy, get real”. Well I’m out of ink and out of space anyway so I’ll just say “This is more than enough bull to keep you till whenever. Oda bo.”


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