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[metalchris25]

Discover Magazine Issues jul-06 departments Blinded by Science: The Way of All Flesh
Blinded by Science: The Way of All Flesh
Bringing home the bacon may become a thing of the past when we can grow our own.
By Bruno Maddox
DISCOVER Vol. 27 No. 07 | July 2006 | Technology


"It would look," says Dr. Vladimir Mironov, a cell biologist at the Medical University of South Carolina in Charleston, "like a coffee machine. This is my dream."

Yet here is the thing. The object of Dr. Mironov's dreams may well look like a coffee machine, possibly even down to the satisfyingly hinged compartments and the Krups logo, but it will produce meat. The good doctor, who has made a career in the field of artificial-tissue generation, says that in the future we'll be sprinkling a few "starter cells" into our meat machine before we go to bed and adding a cup or two of "growth medium." The next morning we'll awake to an appetizing, fully formed lump of pork or beef or poultry, ready to be fried up with breakfast, or braised in time for lunch, or hurled raw across the room at an unreasonable spouse whose wrongheaded notions about pretty much everything the hours of darkness have somehow failed to dispel.

If you missed this news, that may be because it received less play in the science sections of the world's newspapers than in those slender nether pages of items about burglars getting stuck in chimneys and drunken Russian men waking up with spikes in their heads. I can only imagine that in the minds of certain editors the mention of artificial meat triggered associations with tempeh, seitan, Quorn, and other substances vegetarians have been turning up with at barbecues over the last few decades. Meat-that-isn't-really-meat, they must have thought. That's a big deal?

The big deal they missed is that this is meat that really is meat, and the implications are nothing short of thunderous.

For one thing, consider space travel. It may sound pathetic, but one of the commonly voiced obstacles to long-range space exploration is the problem of feeding astronauts in a sufficiently nutritious and entertaining way so that they don't go completely insane and instigate homicidal power contests with the onboard computer. Little squeezable sachets full of supposedly roast-chicken-flavored soy might, in a pinch, sustain a person as far as Mars, but to reach Pluto, let alone Alpha Centauri, an astronaut is going to require something resembling a cheeseburger.

When synthetic-meat technology matures, we thus are likely to pillage and plunder the universe to an extent that we cannot yet conceive. The yawning chasms of space are but trivialities to a man with a capon leg to munch on and a fax machine that doubles as a prosciutto slicer. We will probe the edges of our universe with a gusto that only a satisfied carnivore can muster. And then when we actually land on another Earth-like planet and stare up at two suns, synthetic meat will let us put down roots. I'm envisioning some sort of central dome for work and play and then an archipelago of automated meat-farm domes. Young lovers who have never known Earth shall slip away from their senior prom and yield to each other's fumbling in the moon-dappled hollow of a turkey orchard. On Saturday they shall meet discreetly in the beef dome. He will pluck a blood vessel and tuck it gently behind her ear. She will kiss him, and they will wander shyly among the tenderloins.

And we shall be thin again. The steaks and chops we use to fill our faces will have the fat content of mere salmon. Nor shall we submit any longer to disease. Salmonella, mad cow, E. coli . . . these will be consigned to the dustbin of meat history and the name pool of heavy-metal bands.

Back here on Earth, this once-gorgeous planet, now plodded and trammeled by doomed and flatulent cattle, shall see its scenery restored when billions of acres are replanted with swards of lush, sky-thickening rain forest.

Do not for a moment wonder, Will we be happy, we people? Born again into our fake-meat Eden, the answer can only be yes.

Except for some of us.

[RMadd]

Queensrÿche

[bilal]

http://mars.jpl.nasa.gov/allabout/ni...ightsky04.html

[bilal]

http://www.betterphoto.com/uploads/p...ower_003_t.jpg

[Sincirr]

Quote:

http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B...lance&n=229816

hmmmm...oh i think thats a link to a muse album advertisedment from memory...

[metalchris25]

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[Dogstar]

Trampling resolve
Wringing out the red
Feed the green disease
Drink until you’re dead

[bilal]

Aliens after all. Gods and prophets. Ancient astronauts. What a revelation. Conjectured extraterrestrial visitors to Earth in its distant past. Human beings are either the descendants or creations of aliens who landed on Earth millennia ago, and much of our culture was given to us by extraterrestrial visitors in the time of pre-history.

What a revelation, thought Mukhtar of Sector 687. What would the ancient religionists think. Or would have thought. This moment had it come five hundred years ago, the vanishing of religion would not have required the Philosopher Kings. The Kings under which all sectors of the world lived.

Mukhtar was taught about the end of religion at the communal school he was sent to by his test-tube parents in Sector 969. It was a one thousand-fifty-year process. But the philosopher kings finally rid the world of religion. However, even they didn’t know a lot about how to exactly react to the revelation. At least that’s what Mukhtar thought. And hoped.

But he was still interested in the meaning of his name. And its historical context. It meant nothing, he was always told. Just an ancient name. But why did he always felt like an anachronism? An artifact which appeared out of place archaeologically or geologically.

Did he not belong to this day and age? Was he lifted from a past and put here by aliens? And if so, why would the aliens do that?

Police State. Yes, Police State, he thought. He had read this expression somewhere. Where? And why was he usually cautioned by his parents about its usage? He asked, but was never told. Just to be be careful. The Philosopher Kings don’t appreciate such old-hat, worn out nonsense.

Thus Mukhrar did wonder: Was a Police State something bad. Bad enough to make the Philosopher Kings think that their ways embodied this badness? Or at least a part of it?

Whatever, the news about the revelation kept pouring in through the sonic receptors inbred in the population’s inner ears. There was talk, discussion, Q&A sessions about an alien called Merlin by the ancients experiencing time backwards and helping build the Star Blocks of Sector 996 in West Timberlands. Star Blocks were once called Stonehenge by the ancients. Then there was also talk, discussion, Q&A sessions about how aliens helped ancient prophets like one called Muhammad to ascent to giant sky stations which were thought be and curiously called “heaven,” returning before a glass knocked over had spilt its contents.

The philosopher kings had gotten rid of religion because it was inherently evil and violent. This was what Mukhrar was always taught. And that any assertions, and the beliefs arising thereof, must be justified without faith. He believed it. The people believed it. But why, he thought, so many ancients still insisted on having a theistic belief?

And would the aliens return? Or were the Philosopher Kings put there by the same aliens? If so, then did the aliens believe they were wrong to help the ancients in ways they did and that to rectify the mistakes, put the Philosopher Kings? And more so, maybe the Philosopher Kings were aliens as well!

Because usually people were like Mukhar. Quietly doubting what they were taught in logic, science, philosophy and the arts and instead having a silent but strong yearning for a belief in something they could not understand or comprehend but believe in nonetheless.

If only he could use one of those few micro-wormholes the grand science masters were perfecting in the bent-gravitational labs around Sector 51 in Plot-Dust. He would like to go back at least two thousand years from now. To live in a world where there was belief in Gods and prophets.

But Mukhar’s father thought this to be a naïve yearning. You wont survive there for more than an hour, he used to tell him. There was always great bloodshed, death, irrationalism and silly behavior among the believers, he told him. And anyway, if the Philosopher Kings ever knew about certain people’s yearnings in this regard, they would not be happy. They’ll have them frozen in the dreaded Cold Logic Areas.

Worried about his son’s yearnings and troublesome questions, Mukhtar’s father had requested one of his own teachers, Mater Ching-Fu, at the Grandfather Paradox University of Rational Time Travel Theories & Possibilities, to spend some time talking to his son. The University was one of the oldest, built soon after the last Post-Clergy-Turmoil some five hundred years ago. Its faculty and students weren’t always on the Philosopher Kings’ invitation and special audience lists. So he was safe to assume Master Ching-Fu wouldn’t write a Caution Thesis on Mukhtar for the Sector Philosophy Vanguards.

Master Ching-Fu began his specially designated lecture to young, troubled Mukhtar …

“No objects have an intrinsic characteristic of truth. Therefore everything that we perceive to be true can only be mere individual or social constructions, or the meanings that we attach to them. Therefore the world is a social construct with no objective truth.”

Mukhtar was awestruck. Master Ching-Fu was not using the thousand-year-old Philosopher Kings’ reasoning about rationalism to curb Mukhtar’s yearnings for an unseen, unexplicable God who trancedents both space and time. And neither, like most of the university’s teachers and students, was he indulging in forbidden thoughts of recreating such a God. He was saying something totally new. Master Ching-Fu carried on:

"There is no truth. This statement at the very first glance is self-contradictory. It propounds that there is no truth. But for this to be true, the doctrine itself would have to be false. Therefore the doctrine is claiming simultaneously that there is no truth, while at the same time that it, itself, is true. How’s this for a belief?”

But Mukhtar was suspecious. Is this the Sector Philosophy Vanguards new way to tackle Ancient Cognitive Allergies? And was Master Ching-Fu actually a Sector Philosophy Vanguard? And worse, was his father too?
“Tell me,” said Master Ching-Fu, if given a choice, what religion would you like to choose for yourself if managing to travel back two
thousand years in one of those micro-wormholes?”

“I’m not sure. Of whatever little I know or have been taught of them, they all sound the same. I just want to experience the …err…the silly beliefs and rituals that were associated with them.” Said Mukhtar.

“So you think ancient astronauts were silly?” Asked Master Ching-Fu.

“The religionists were silly.” Said Mukhtar. “You know that. The Philosopher Kings have always said how violent and silly they were.”
Master Ching-Fu smiled: “Two thousand years down many would be saying the same about the great Philosopher Kings.”

“But I’m not, I’m not!” Said Mukhtar, almost panicking.
“I know you’re not saying this,” said Master Cing-Fu. “I am!”
He told Mukhtar how excited he was to hear about the revelation.
“So,” Mukhtar wondered. “Maybe Master Ching-Fu is an alie

[StappsSaviour]

[bilal]

not very good.....

[StappsSaviour]

whats not very good?

[bilal]

Quote: (Originally Posted by StappsSaviour)

whats not very good?

hehe....that was what it came from Ctrl+V (paste function).....wasnt directed to any one.....

[metalchris25]

Despite having once vowed that they would never release greatest hits album, Oasis are releasing a double disc, the 18 track album "Stop The Clocks" on November 20, according to GIGWise.

Unlike many "best of" albums, the collection will draw on their better known B-sides as well as the hit singles. All tracks on the album have been hand-picked by the band themselves from their twelve year history.

The band said in a statement: “Unlike most albums of this nature, Oasis have sat down and undertaken the almost impossible job of picking what they consider to be their finest moments ever.

“So 'Stop The Clocks' is imbued with the sort of wilfulness that has helped make Oasis the favourite band of millions of people worldwide and its running order will no doubt provoke equal parts adulation and bar discussions from the millions of Oasis fans worldwide. Could it ever be any other way?”

[metalchris25]

http://cleanstream.net/mirrors/bunny_suicide/

[metalchris25]

http://www.wwe.com/inside/news/hardyboyzreunion