The Myth of Human "Intelligence"
How many average people are ready to accept the reality that cloning is now common among cattle and
will soon be common among humans?
http://www.wired.com/medtech/health/magazine/15-11/ff_clonedmeat?currentPage=5
This has been more than just a ranch chore. Coover is looking for some old friends: his last surviving
descendants of Full Flush clones. Their bodies are huge, raised high off the ground to support
maximum meat yield. It's an obsolete body type — ranchers today want shorter, stockier cows that
require less feed. So Coover has repurposed the clone offspring into surrogate moms. He paid $12,000
for 60 embryos cloned from cattle around the country, shipped overnight from Cyagra. He implanted
them himself — it helps to be a vet — with the hope of slashing the sticker price of cow copies to about
$3,000 a pop. That's right: Coover has implanted clone embryos into the offspring of other clones. It's
hard to imagine what the animals' pedigree chart will look like.
- - - - - - -
Earnhart pulls on his galoshes to show me his clones at work. The day is hot and humid, and flies rise
like storm clouds over pens of manure. We plod over to a metal shed to meet a pig: a pregnant sow
panting on her side in a thick metal cage. She's a clone, one of 10 copies Earnhart received as
compensation from ViaGen in September 2005. Earnhart bows over the sow like an expectant father. He
is considering sending the piglets to market, though he might also breed them, just as he has bred the
piglets from his other cloned sows. "If we don't send them to market, there's nothing profitable to be
done with them."
Well, there's one thing. Earnhart and I head back to his house for an early supper: pork chops with
cheesy potatoes, biscuits, and lemonade. My fist-sized chop is glazed in a sugary, thick-as-molasses
marinade. It tastes better than anything I've had at a restaurant — moist, succulent, and wonderfully
tender.
"When we go out and pick a hog, we usually try to pick out the best one," Earnhart says. He points to
the plate. "This is the one we want to eat." Whether it's born of a clone, Earnhart won't say. "If you can
tell the difference, it's in your head."
Next
How many average people are ready to accept the reality that cloning is now common among cattle and
will soon be common among humans?
http://www.wired.com/medtech/health/magazine/15-11/ff_clonedmeat?currentPage=5
This has been more than just a ranch chore. Coover is looking for some old friends: his last surviving
descendants of Full Flush clones. Their bodies are huge, raised high off the ground to support
maximum meat yield. It's an obsolete body type — ranchers today want shorter, stockier cows that
require less feed. So Coover has repurposed the clone offspring into surrogate moms. He paid $12,000
for 60 embryos cloned from cattle around the country, shipped overnight from Cyagra. He implanted
them himself — it helps to be a vet — with the hope of slashing the sticker price of cow copies to about
$3,000 a pop. That's right: Coover has implanted clone embryos into the offspring of other clones. It's
hard to imagine what the animals' pedigree chart will look like.
- - - - - - -
Earnhart pulls on his galoshes to show me his clones at work. The day is hot and humid, and flies rise
like storm clouds over pens of manure. We plod over to a metal shed to meet a pig: a pregnant sow
panting on her side in a thick metal cage. She's a clone, one of 10 copies Earnhart received as
compensation from ViaGen in September 2005. Earnhart bows over the sow like an expectant father. He
is considering sending the piglets to market, though he might also breed them, just as he has bred the
piglets from his other cloned sows. "If we don't send them to market, there's nothing profitable to be
done with them."
Well, there's one thing. Earnhart and I head back to his house for an early supper: pork chops with
cheesy potatoes, biscuits, and lemonade. My fist-sized chop is glazed in a sugary, thick-as-molasses
marinade. It tastes better than anything I've had at a restaurant — moist, succulent, and wonderfully
tender.
"When we go out and pick a hog, we usually try to pick out the best one," Earnhart says. He points to
the plate. "This is the one we want to eat." Whether it's born of a clone, Earnhart won't say. "If you can
tell the difference, it's in your head."
Next
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