Some mad scientists have combined human stem cells and pig DNA to make interchangeable parts to be grown inside pigs so we humans can live forever, says David Leighton at our monthly bloggers’ roundtable, and I just don’t like it.
You don’t want to live forever half-pig and half-man? says Carlos Henrico, opening another twelve pack of beer to boost along our deliberations. Whyever not?
I’d rather die in the natural way than be a half-pig, David says, at age 103.
Oh, I solved this death problem long ago, says The Masked Blogger. When I reached A Certain Age, I started counting birthdays in reverse. Now I’m 51. So long as I can count backwards, I’ll never die.
I’d stop my regression in my twenties, says Carlos. Those were good years. I was strong, healthy, girls were crazy about me and I was happy about everything in life. I’ll stop there.
None of that backwards foolishness for me, says David. My doctor says I could live to be 90 but I’ve figured how to beat his odds. When I see that 90th birthday coming, I’ll just jump ahead to 91 and keep on going.
Looks like we’re all going to live forever, I say, emptying another can of beer. But what do we do for eternity? Or is it like the eternity I spend every night trying to find something to watch that isn’t reality TV?
I see by the papers, says David, that a certain very lovely beauty pageant winner got stripped of her title for having live sex on a reality TV show. One I missed, I’m sorry to say.
Sounds like your reality TV is more fun to watch than mine, says Carlos. All I get is Naked & Abandoned in the Jungle & Very Very Unwashed.
Oh well, says The Masked Blogger, breaking open another twelve pack. The sun will blast apart in ten billion years and there goes reality TV showing naked pig-men rooting through our fossilized empties.
There’s always hope we’ll find a habitable planet to escape to and start over, David says.
My big fear, says Carlos, is we’ll discover life on all those other habitable planets and it’s just like us – half-pig, half-men scheming to live forever.
Why don’t we ever have enough beer at these meetings? I say.
© 2016 Steven Hardesty