Friday, November 17, 2006

Technology - Clonosexual

My friend Anastazio has some wierd ideas. Over coffee the other day, he was rifling through the paper and came across an article about the world’s second racehorse to be cloned. He snapped the paper loudly with his fingers and tossed it onto the next table.

“Let me ask you something. Do you masturbate?”

“Of course not,” I assured him.

“Well, I do. A lot. Let me tell you.”

“No thanks. What’s that got to do with a cloned racehorse?”

“It has everything to do with it, my friend. I’ll ask you something else: Why does a dog lick his balls?”

“I don’t know. To get the shit taste out of his mouth?”

“Maybe that, too. But the other reason: Because he can.”

“What the fuck are you going on about?”

This began a long conversation in which I –under protest—became educated to a variety of Anastazio’s masturbation fantasies. However, the apropo scenario began as no fantasy at all before quickly transforming itself into an ominous dilemma. Anastazio had been trying to perform acts on himself that only a lithe gymnast could even comprehend when it suddenly dawned on him that if he could somehow duplicate himself, he would accomplish all that he desired … and more.

After that, his doppleganger became a frequent and familiar actor in his private sock hops. He wondered if perhaps he was discovering a latent homosexuality, so he switched to other fantasies which he once tried out of curiosity –all fizzling out with the same, uninspiring results. No, he was certain: It had to be himself.

“Do you think it’s just vanity?”

"Probably."

“That would make me homosexual in it’s most literal sense, wouldn’t it? ‘Sex with the same,’ right? You can't get anymore same than that.”

“I guess. But there’s a long tradition holding rights to the term. Probably you’d have to come up with a whole new word. Like, ‘Clonosexual.’”

It was with a blend of excitement and shame that he ended these ethereal trysts with the overwhelming recognition that he was an anteclonal deviant, and he wondered if he was not more of a pathetic lecher than a sexual prophet and vanguard.

“You know, it could really be very awkward. I mean, imagine if I made a clone of myself for other reasons, like I needed a kidney or something. Sure, it would enter my head. But imagine if, when face to face, I realized it wasn’t what I wanted, that it was just too weird. You know? Still, he would know what I was thinking. So we’d be standing there, in the hospital or whatever, looking at each other. He’d probably say, right there in front of the doctor and everything, ‘I know what you’re thinking.’" He gulped. "What am I supposed to do with that?”

“More than likely, your clone would be a baby at first. And it would have to grow up, like a normal human.”

“Great. So now we’re talking statutory rape. I guess incest, too. Maybe. Do clones even have rights?”

“Well, technically, there are no human clones. So, for the moment …”

Anastazio leaned back and lost himself in thought. After a few minutes, he wagged a finger at me. “You won’t tell anybody about this conversation.”

“Of course not,” I assured him.

1 comment:

alto said...

Hey Matt, I like what you write.
I'm sure that very soon you will be one of those who earns a lot of $$ with your prose.

Keep on!

Try to make shorter posts and more often.