HOLY MOLY!

Giant Squid! Wheee! Anyway, here's a link to the Reuters story: SQUID. You can find a couple more pictures there as well as a video on the story. Pretty cool. Enjoy.

Shorts: Episode 1

The people of Twik had been known across the galaxy for their great religious zealotry for over three thousand years. Many different religions had existed before and even to this day there were many small religions, seen mainly as misguided cults, throughout the planet. The most wide spread religion concerned itself not with the salvation of souls or in the upward morality of its citizenry, but rather with ensuring that the large part of it’s native population never discovered that there were inhabitants beyond their planet’s atmosphere.

The irony, of course, was that for the past seven hundred years the entire planet had been engaged in galactic trade and communication. The entire planet’s population was aware of the aliens beyond the bounds of their home world but refused to speak of the whole thing out of polite deference for their chosen belief system.

The trouble had begun pretty much at the inception of the religion. When the prophet Miktet had prophesied that beyond the world in which he lived there existed a land of beauty and plenty from which no creature would desire to return, his disciples took him a bit too literally. After Miktet’s death his diciples buried his remains and watched the grave for several years awaiting his spiritual rebirth. Of course, this did not happen. His disciples rejoiced and at last carried Miktet’s words to the planet’s inhabitants; knowing he had spoken truth. Miktet, they argued, had gained divinity and had no desire to return to the earthly plane. What further proof was necessary?

What followed was twenty-five hundred years of scientific stagnation as religious leaders declared any building more than 2 stories tall was an affront to the heavens. Only the church, they argued, could break this rule as its holy countenance was the only structure the gods deemed worthy. Along this same vein aeronautics, radio communication and astrology were deemed heretical.

When the Twik at last made contact with an alien culture they did so only on their own terms. For several days the Lorcati had hovered above their planet attempting to communicate via a series of complex lights and maneuvers. When no opposition, or in fact any acknowledgement either way, the Lorcati dropped their main fleet above several highly populated cities and made several attempts at communication involving several speaker phones, a series of astounding light displays, three psychics, and little used communication technique involving scented plant matter. After careful consideration the Lorcati believed they had found the only species in the galaxy incapable of perceiving the world around them.

In a final attempt at communication the Lorcati admiral chose to land on the planet itself and witness the extent of the Twik’s sensorial deficiency. What follows is the official Lorcati log concerning Twikian Contact Alpha:

:: Various sounds as Admiral Fuslag prepares to gauge planet inhabitant’s inability to sense planetary stimuli ::

Fuslag: I am now walking about the planet seeking an inhabitant with which to make contact… or as is believed by most of my scientific crew, to fail miserably at making contact of any kind. So far we have been flying about the planet at about 100 meters above the surface; making a ruckus of all kinds… and the inhabitants have yet to take notice.

:: wedging sound ::

Fuslag: I have now activated my neural communication device which should enable me to speak to the native inhabitants… provided they are capable of thought.

:: sound of gravel being trod upon ::

Fuslag: So far I have not encountered any living sentients in the city… I presume they have all retreated into their living structures. I am making my way now to what appears to be the largest structure in this town… my hope is to make contact without having to … crawl through a window or break down any doors… as we all recall what happened on planet Swic’k … I still have nightmares about that one… so much butter…

:: recording interrupted at this point and resumed 20 minutes later ::

Fuslag: The recording shall show that 20 minutes have passed since the last recording. I will have to apologize for this lapse… but there are things… a man should never have to relive…

:: recording interrupted at this point and resumed 4 minutes later ::

:: sounds of retching ::

Fuslag: Oh god… that’s… SO MUCH BUTTER!

:: Content edited by High Command under grounds of Intergalactic Security ::

:: recording resumed 20 minutes later ::

Fuslag: At last. I think I see an inhabitant of the planet. He appears to be sitting on a flat white stone. The inhabitant itself is a brown, hairy creature. It is wearing a white pointy hat. I will now attempt to make contact…

:: sound of gravel being trod upon carefully ::

Fuslag: Pardon me? Might you have the local temporal measurement?

Inhabitant: What then? The locust tendril excrement? I haven’t a clue of such things. If you want pest control you’ll have to go to brother Mentris. That’s his business. I just water the :: untranslatable word indicating local plant matter ::.

Fuslag: Oh… yes… Uh… I presume he can hear and speak as well?

Inhabitant: What? Of course he can you … What the devil are you!?

Fuslag: Admiral Fuslag, Commander First Class, currently assigned to Fleet Zeta Zeta Alpha. I have come to your planet to extend to you the appendage of friendship as authorized by the Lorcati high command.

Inhabitant: Appendage, you say?

Fuslag: Yes well… not all known species in the galaxy have what one would call hands… or in fact recognizable arm structures…

:: silence ::

Inhabitant: Well good then. You’ve done that and can now take your appendage and go away again, I trust?

Fuslag: ‘fraid not. Now that we have become allies the High Command will want to sign treaties and establish a trade route through this sector. Possibly your people will be ready to join the galactic assembly within five hundred years… you’ll have to fill out a form for that… and there’s a waiting period. You know how it is; red tape.

:: silence ::

Fuslag: So shall we get to it then?

:: silence ::

Fuslag: Eh… The record will show that the inhabitant has fallen into some kind of… self induced mental coma.

Inhabitant: You’re one the sky visitors?

Fuslag: Sky--- oh! Yes. Yes indeed. We have descended from the sky to bring you SCIENCE and TECHNOLO—

Inhabitant: You don’t exist then. Oh my, you gave me a scare. For a moment I thought you might be serious.

Fuslag: What’s that? What do you mean I don’t exist. I’m standing right in front of you aren’t I?

Inhabitant: Ah, yes. But the prophet Miktet told us of the world beyond our own and said that none would want to return to the earthly realm after ascending. Thus, you are an affront to the natural way of things or are the mental fabrication of an old man in his waning years.

Fuslag: I… but…

:: silence ::

Inhabitant: Be so kind as to leave now. I have much watering of the ::plant-form:: to do.

Fuslag: All right… look here. I can’t very well go back to my ship and tell my subordinates that I made contact with a single old man who refused to speak to me because he didn’t believe I existed. If you’ll direct me to someone less…

Inhabitant: senile?

Fuslag: mentally saddled with responsibility…

Inhabitant: I would have said senile.

Fuslag: I’ll get out of your way.

Inhabitant: Oh, I can’t do that. There isn’t anyone.

Fuslag: What? Why not?

Inhabitant: Well aside from you being a mental fabrication of my own mind, no one would speak to you if you came from the heavens. It would be heretical.

Fuslag: But… clearly if I came from the world beyond you should want to know what that world is like, right?!

Inhabitant: Oh gods, no. Whatever happens up there is none of our business. At least, not until we have ascended.

Fuslag: Well who’s to say I’m not one of your … uh… ascended. Yes, that’s it. I’ve come back to guide your planet to a more prosperous time.

Inhabitant: Good one. But the prophet Miktet himself did not return from the beyond. Why should I believe you?

:: silence ::

Fuslag: Because I have a giant bloody fleet at my command and I can incinerate your entire planet if you don’t take me seriously!

Inhabitant: But in order to believe in your fleet I’d have to believe in you. And as we have already established, you do not exist.

Fuslag: We have established no such thing! I tell you, I am a Lorcati admiral and I have come to enlighten your planet! Now are you going to be enlightened or do I have to blast you to kingdom come?!

Inhabitant: Now now. There’s no reason to yell at a senile old man.

Fuslag: Mentally saddled with responsibility.

Inhabitant: If you are one of the sky people, you must be a god.

Fuslag: Well no. I’m much like yourself just of a different species. Different world.

Inhabitant: Too bad. If you were a god our people would acknowledge your existence. As it is, you can only be my imagination.

Fuslag: Aha! You fell for it. I’m Fuslag, God of… intergalactic fleets.

Inhabitant: I could have sworn you said you weren’t –

Fuslag: That’s just the senility speaking. Now let’s get these treaties signed before you anger your god!

:: record end ::

A Heavy Handed Analogy

It was an early November morning in the city of the sun. The synthetic had crawled out of the sewer and beheld the sunrise and was changed. It fell to its knees and stayed there as the traffic around him had swelled until at last he was surrounded by the sound of metal cylinders creating tiny explosions that helped the organics navigate the chaos in their large metal vehicles which made blusterous honking sounds at other organics. The synthetic watched the burning orb as it sailed across the empty sky, wondering how it managed to stay in the sky without falling.
When the sun at last fell behind the horizon the synthetic was left alone in the street with only a handful of street lamps to light his way. Without the sun to light the world, the synthetic felt alone and in an odd way, though this was impossible, he felt the cold of the night penetrate his hard ceramic frame.
When the sun did not rise again 12 hours later, the synthetic anguished. How could anyone live in a world without the light of the sun? At last, in the distance, he could see two pale white lights coming his way swerving back and forth on the street. “Perhaps they are bits of the sun”, he thought, “broken off and wandering their way back to it. I will direct them towards it and they will guide me to its home.” As the lights approached, much too quickly, he felt himself rise and quickly crash into the ground. Though he tried to stand he could no longer conjure the energy and after a short time he ceased trying.
At 7:30 on a November morning in the city of the sun, the city maintenance department made its way through the traffic of the city to a synthetic which had been reported as causing an obstruction on a main street. Sometime in the morning, a few minutes before sunrise, it had been struck by an unknown motorist and been left in the eastbound lane.

This is why I love Geek-Fu Action Grip. Most parents would be so creeped out by this image there is no chance in hell they would ever take a picture of it and share it with the web community. But Mur Lafferty of Geek-Fu, and all true nerds, love the opportunity to share this. LISTEN TO GEEK-FU!

Respect my Sereni-tay!

I was checking out the latest Diggnation video podcast this morning and they mentioned something called South Park Studio. It's a pretty cool site that lets you create characters with the same look as the South Park cartoon.
Suffice it to say that I HAD to try my hand at it and you see the fruit of my labor above. The cast of Firefly done up as best as the site will allow. I think it came out pretty good.

Welcome to the suck

It's Friday morning and I'm looking through my movie options for the day... I can't say I'm very pleased. The following are some quick thoughts about my prospects.

The Break-up: Been out for a while and I still have no interest for this. In fact, I care less about it now than ever. Even as a chick-flick this movie falls short. I can barely stand to watch the previews. I can't imagine the kind of torture it would be to watch the whole movie.

The Fast and the Furious: Tokyo Drift: Let's ignore the fact that the name alone makes me laugh out loud. This movie has nothing to offer me. I don't care about fast cars and the loser pretty boys showing off. I curse everyone involved with this movie. I hope they die a horrible flaming death.

Garfield: A Tail of Two Kitties: What the hell?! Is there some kind of law that all movies being released now need to have a subtitle? Damn you, Hollywood. Damn you all! I hope ants eat your eyes as you sleep!

The Lake House: Sandra Bullock. Keanu Reeves. Magic Mailbox. Who keeps giving these people work?! Actually, forget that. I know who keeps giving them work and it's not entirely their fault. It's YOURS! And... mine. It's true. I went to watch the Matrix movies... I watched Speed. And so did you, admit it! We share the blame for this movie and have no right to complain. Even so, I didn't write the script or decide to inflict it upon the American public. In some countries, Sandra Bullock is considered a crime against humanity. After it was discovered that Keanu's bad acting is actually a tangible substance which spreads through the air, he has been banned by international treaty from traveling by air. If you don't believe me watch Constantine. Previously thought to be "atmosphere" created by lighting, Keanu's bad acting was filmed by the Constantine cameras. Especially thick and potent in that film, it was observed to wander about the set and make small chit chat with the crew. Scientist have now observed the substance and have named it Keanium, in honor of its creator.

Cars: What the hell? No subtitles? You mean it's not called "Cars: Shadow Demon Osaka Nitro"? It's NOT just a bad storyline with shiny CGI designed to entertain retarded babies for 5 minutes and making adults vomit in anger?* This... is a movie handed down by the Gods themselves. A breath of fresh air in an endless field surrounded by cows doing their business. Man... I'm in rare form today. Behold my authorial prowess!
But back to the issue at hand. Pixar. I think I love you. I have watched your films and have been impressed with every one. Granted this movie has it's flaws... like never explaining how a world filled with cars and no humans could exist. Just the thought of cars evolving sentience is weird.

Nacho Libre: Yes. I know. I'm bad. I think I'm going to watch this movie. I accept your hate and ridicule. I am indeed what is wrong with this country. But in my defence, ummm... "sometimes a man wears stretchy pants... just for fun".

*"Vomiting in Anger" brought to you by the genius writers of Futurama. I steal because I love.

END COMMUNICATION!

Thanka Yu So Naise

It's really weird that I was sure I'd never play Nintendo DS. I should have known that sooner or later Nintendo was going to release something for the system that I would not be able to resist. In fact, that happened a few months ago when they put out Tetris DS. I love that game in a way... that is possibly unhealthy. And now, the bastards have gone and done it again. Now they've released New Super Mario Brothers.

I didn't even know how much I had missed that damn mustachioed plumber and his 2d platforming adventures until I started that first level and all of a sudden I was 10 years old again. I swear that first level HAS to be an homage to the first SMB. The navigation system (where you move mario and decide what level you want to enter) is clearly from SMB 3. They've even included multiple exit points and a hell of a lot of short cuts to other levels as in Super Mario World (my personal favorite).

But of course... things weren't exactly as I remembered them. I'm pretty sure Mario didn't use to eat a large mushroom that could make him the size of the entire screen and allow you to smash through brick walls. Or if you prefer a more subtle approach to your gaming, they've included a mini-mushroom. This does, essentially, the opposite of the giant mushroom. It makes you smaller than regular Mario and your regular jumps become useless against normal sized enemies. As in SMB 3 the designers have included a suit. This time it's that of a turtle. Get a running start and Mario becomes the same kind of destructive turtle shell as any other.

Oh ... how I love New Super Mario Brothers. And yet... there are some things that bug me.
First, what the hell is going on at Nintendo? Did the person that used to name their products quit or die or something? Not only do we have to deal with the worst console name of all time (Nintendo Wii), but now THIS. NEW Super Mario Brothers? Couldn't someone be bothered to come up with a better name than that? "So what's the name of the new super mario brothers game you guys are working on? Oh... New Super Mario Brothers?" At least pretend you care, guys!
Second, where's my damn Yoshi?! I know most people don't like Yoshi because he's the SMB equivalent of Jar-Jar, but c'mon! Enslaving lizard creatures for my transportational uses was one of my favorite things in Mario World. I need that back. Especially in the more annoying levels where I could just grab a blue turtle shell and fly the hell out of there. Whooo!
Third, where's my jaunty yellow cape?! Or at least my Racoon Tail? There is no flying at all in this game. Yeah, there are a few ramps that spin you and cause you to float slowly downward and mini-mario does float gently... but that's not the same! I need to fly!

Reguardless, New SMB is a damn good game. Feels a bit short, though. If you ignore all the warps and shortcuts you could probably finish the whole game in about 10 hours. If you take all the shortcuts you could probably be done in 1 hour. This is assuming you've not played this specific game before. I bought the game on a Friday evening and was done before the end of the weekend. That was a bit surprising.

Oh. In case your wondering, the title of this post refers to what Mario says when he gets to the end of every level. I honestly have no idea what he's trying to say but it sounds like "Thank You. So Nice." I don't know why. Crazy Italians.

Some stuff I wrote

Here's something I wrote that I hope I can turn into a longer narrative.

Megan

In the blackness of her room, Megan clasped her hands desperately around her legs; keeping them tight against her chest. Around her, over the once clean white bed sheets and pillow, the blood congealed.
The terror that filled her now was unlike any she had ever experienced. It wasn’t just the strange emptiness she now felt inside of her, but rather the horror of realizing she didn’t mind it. When she had woken an hour ago to find her bed thick with a damp and sticky substance she had panicked.
She had gone through all the possibilities in her mind: the roof is leaking, I spilled the water jug beside the bed, someone’s playing a trick on me, someone’s in the apartment… The idea that a stranger was invading her privacy caused the little hairs on her body to rise in fear. She had spent the next 5 minutes trying to talk herself into turning on the light beside the bed. In a way she couldn’t verbalize she was more afraid of seeing an invader in the room with her than to have the same danger without the knowledge of it.
When she finally mustered the bravery to flick the light on she was only slightly disturbed by the sight of her bed covered in what appeared to be blood.

An hour after finding the source of all the blood, Megan found herself unable to get herself out of a fetal position. Her mind insisted that despite the evidence, what she had discovered could not be true. So long as she remained here, hiding away from the world, she wouldn’t have to face what she had seen.
She had also turned the light off again. An act she had begun to regret now as she desperately sought for something to distract her mind. The shadows created by the light streaming from the window seemed so dark and deep that she felt she was falling into them. At times she could almost see them flickering and straining almost as if alive.
Megan at last allowed herself the sob that had been forming within her for almost an hour. But though she wanted to cry and feel the tears falling down her face, they would not come. All she could muster were the dry heaving of raw emotion.

Megan had fallen in and out of sleep all day. The phone had rung 7 times and someone had come and knocked on the door for 15 minutes before finally giving up. She was aware of these things somewhere in the back of her mind but paid no real attention to them. Megan was beginning to think she could see through the walls and into the other apartments.
Sometime in the afternoon she had turned around and been able to see into her neighbor’s living room. She knew it was his living room because she had met him in the halls a few times. She had watched him work at his desk for twenty minutes, fully expecting him to turn and see her just as easily as she saw him. But he never showed any indication of knowing she was there before the wall returned and Megan was left to fight her terror once again.
In the evening, the floor beneath her bed had disappeared and revealed the teenage boy downstairs talking on the phone and watching television. The boy had looked up at the ceiling a couple of times but seemed to do so more out of boredom than realization that Megan was watching him.

At midnight the voices began talking to Megan.
“Why do you hide yourself, Megan?”
“Stand up, Megan. Reveal what you have become.”
Megan sobbed at this and asked “What have I become?”
“A God.”
She wasn’t quite sure why, but this terrified her. Her screams lashed out in the night, waking her neighbors. She tried to close her eyes to shut out the world but somehow could still see everything around her. The walls disappeared again, this time revealing every apartment in her building. She could see her next door neighbor walking out of his apartment and desperately knocking at her door. She watched the teenager downstairs get out of bed, bleary-eyed and wondering what the screaming was about. She watched various other couples in the apartment as they woke and cursed at her for waking them.
“Stand up, Megan. Become what you are meant to be.”
Without meaning to, Megan’s hands unclasped from around her legs for the first time in more than 24 hours. As she rose from the bed, the walls became crystalline and reflected her own image back at her.
Megan continued to scream as she watched black shadow tendrils wrap themselves around her legs and begin pulling her down into the darkness. Her terror increased as she watched the tendrils reaching higher and higher until they reached her chest. Megan tried to cover herself with her arms and close her eyes but the shadow tendrils had wrapped themselves around her arms and kept them away and her eyelids no longer kept the world out.
She could no longer deny the truth and this caused her to scream louder and harder than ever. Something had pulled out Megan’s heart. Not merely removed it, but left a large gaping hole in her chest. When the shadows swallowed Megan at last, all that remained were a blood soaked bed and the eerie hush left behind by Megan’s silence.

My Thoughts and Other Unusual Phenomenon

I like to think of myself as a pretty smart guy. But I wonder if I could be using my brain power in more constructive ways. As I am too close to the subject in question, I will post the evidence here and let the Internet community be the judge.

Thoughts that keep me awake at night:
There is something seriously wrong with this country. No, I'm not talking about the way the government is trying to strip us of our civil rights or of the asinine Intelligent Design issue. I'm talking about the way, sometime in the last 5 to 10 years, that the "small" size items have dissapeared as options in theaters and fast food restaurants. Has no one else noticed this? There is no way I can get a small size drink at the theater any more. My options are: medium, large, and xl. What the hell? What happened to small? And before you start getting any ideas that this might be a relevant social comment, I don't care about "fattening of America" or the "nutritionally devoid American diet" B.S. I just think this shows a flaw in logic.

See if you can follow this. All items may be categorized as Small, Medium, or Large. However, these things may only be called such IF they are viewed in relation to each other. One cannot say "This grain of sand is LARGE" unless one has a point of reference. In other words, while a grain of sand may infact be large, it may only be large in comparison to other grains of sand or to other items that are not large.

Keeping this in mind, THERE CAN BE NO MEDIUM WHERE THERE IS NO SMALL. Medium, by definition, is a middle ground between small and large. If there is no small, there can be no medium. So, in point of fact, the medium IS the small. The large IS the medium. The xl IS the large.

To all you fast food people: I'm not stupid! I understand that sometime in the recent past you guys probably thought "Hey, if we take away the small people will have to buy the medium and we'll make more money". Fine. I get it. You're jerks. But you're not fooling anyone. Just raise the price of the small and let the customers decide if they want one size or another.

On a related note: Changing the names of the sizes of your cups of coffee to a different language does NOT totally blow my mind. It does NOT confuse me and make me buy a larger cup than I thought I needed. For my part, I do not order a Venti. I always make sure to look the clerk straight in the eye and say "Give me a LARGE!". (Note that the exclamation point is only there to add emphasis. I do not actually yell out my request. These people live shallow, meaningless lives as it is. They don't need some guy yelling at them to add to their problems.)

Thoughts that keep me from working:
I would like to have pizza for lunch. But, you know, I don't think I want to pay for the whole pizza. And my co-workers aren't in the mood for pizza today. So I think there should be a way to order a half a pizza. Not just a smaller pizza, that's silly. NO. I want to order HALF a pizza. I can't eat a whole medium pizza. It's too much. I want HALF a pizza.

Now I can see the pizza people pondering the potential of partial product procedures. And I'm here to help. Think of it: Pre-ordered, Pre-paid pizza! I should be able to order pizza in what is termed "make and hold". In other words, I want to place an order for a pizza now that shall be delivered at a predetermined point in the future. And, yes. I know PizzaHut.com already does this, but do they give me the option to get half my order now and half later? Perhaps I only want 3 slices today. But I'll be hungry next week, no doubt. Send me the rest then.
Also, I would like to suggest a new topping. Pizza. I would like to have "pizza" be a topping for my pizza. And I don't want any skimping on that topping, either. I don't just mean you take pieces of pizza dough and crumble it over my pizza. I mean go all out: Create mini pizzas with mini pepperoni and mini mushrooms all made as one would a regular pizza but 1/10th the size. Then take those mini pizzas and use them as toppings for my pizza. Why? I don't know... does everything have to have a reason? I just like the idea of some guy making pizzas with a magnifying glass in front of his face the way jewelers do.

On a related note: Some pizza places now deliver Buffalo-flavored boneless wings". I'm not sure I understand this. How the hell am I supposed to know what Buffalo tastes like? What am I gonna do? Try them at the door and shout "AHA! I have you. These clearly do NOT taste like Buffalo! I had Buffalo last night and it tasted nothing like this!" I'm sure someone out there would know what that tastes like, but all the places I buy my meat don't offer that as an option.

Why do we have an exclamation point (!) and a question mark (?)? Why do we not have an exclamation mark and a question point? And you would think that if anything would be called a "point" it would be a period. So we should also have a period point... and yet we don't. Why is that?

Thoughts that keep me from winning the Nobel Peace Prize:
I think we've waited long enough to build Battle Mechs. We have the technology to start building battle armor. Where are all the experiments to bring us full scale Mechwarrior style battle tanks? I want to see some Friggin' MECHA!

I understand that it's not as easy as anime makes it look, but C'mon! Mecha!

Clearly our generation are nothing but a bunch of slackers. I can't help feel that we've failed to live up to the expectations of 1950s America. Where are the hover cars? Where are the personal jet packs? We should have colonized mars by now and yet, here we are, wondering if MAYBE the moon has water-ice. And obviously, this is a job for America. After all, we own the moon (yes. Yes. we do. We put a little flag on it and everything. That means we own it.). So if anyone should be expanding into the rest of the solar system it should be us.

We are clearly unprepared for interstellar alien invasion. What if we're attacked tomorrow? Who will protect the women and children from the pod people?

I wonder how many guns is considered TOO many guns.

On a related note: How many guns would stop being a "personal collection" and start being "The Gun Museum"? I would think more than 365 guns is officially "The Gun Museum". Because then you can no longer claim you actually use them all. You could get away with claiming you use at least one every day of the year. On Independence day you use 3 or 4 of the special ones. And you keep one locked in a safe for leap year. So... ok. You can get away with 370 guns.

The wonders of Science... on my dinner plate.

I have come to the conclusion that we are overdue for genetically altered foods. While peeling the shell off my shrimp tonight, I realized how glorious the world would be if we could alter shrimp for easier consumption. Granted, the shell must have some use in the wild and all that... but I couldn't care less. Breed the little buggers in fish tanks and keep them clean and ready to serve up in an instant. In terms of energy gained in eating them vs energy used to gather, cook and peel these damn things, I can't help but think we're on the losing end.
But enough about shrimp. Though they may be the most enfuriating food item, I think it's about time the rest of the food groups got a good scrutinization. Think about how much time we could regain by genetically altering all forms of foods and animals to make them easier to consume!
Let's begin with everyone's favorite: fruits and vegetables. Let's be honest, bananas have been looking down at us since the beginning of time. "Look at me. I'm a banana. Concealing my deliciousness in this yellow peel. Watch how I taunt you, humans! Waste energy to access my fruity goodness!" it seems to say... if bananas had mouths, I mean... you know... and could talk... But no more! Science has progressed at last to the point where we can replace the banana peel by genetically replacing that gene with the cocoa plant. Thus making the worlds first natural chocolate covered banana! Onward, science. I salute you.
I love the orange... but Oh, how I curse it. As sweet and juicy as it may be, its secrets remain locked within that horrible orange fortress. With the advancements in science, we can do away with this evil creation of nature. At last, the orange and its nutritious contents can be ours with limited effort.
Walnuts rival the shrimp in the enjoyment/nutrition gain vs energy spent category. It just isn't worth it... But now comes science with its genetic might to do away with the walnut shell! At last, a bounty of walnuts can be mine with zero effort!
But the plant kingdom is not the only one that could use some genetically altered goodness. I've already mentioned the shrimp so I wont bring them up again... even though I hate them oh so much...
Spineless fish! Yes, I know you can get de-spined fish and all that... but it's the principle of the thing. I need some genetically altered fish as a part of my diet. Fish engineered to have no bones or support of any kind, while being hillarious to watch swim, would also be delicious. And at last I could enjoy a meal of fish without the fear of swallowing a sharp spine and choking to death.
I personally hate chicken. But if there were one place to make money by altering an animal to make it easier to eat, this would be your best bet. Somewhere out there, someone HAS to be working on a way to make chickens cook from the inside. Seriously... we need to genetically alter the chicken so that serious fright causes them to explode in just the right places (wings, breast, drumstick) and the explosion causes an even, delicious cooking. We can even cross some chickens with a jalapeno for a spicy flavor.
Cows... are the worlds most perfect food. But let's face it, they're as stupid as certain kinds of moss. And so, I propose we go the route of Douglas Adams' "The Restaurant at the End of the Universe". We must genetically alter these pathetically stupid animals to enjoy destroying themselves for our consumption. Not only would you totally freak out the vegetarians, but if the cow helps you to slaughter it... how much effort do you save?! It's genius.
Anyway, those are my thoughts tonight. Somebody get on this. I want my chocolate covered bananas in 10 years or less!