You know, just when I think biotech advocates can't get any stupider or more short-sighted than they naturally are, I read stuff like this. Hello, we've already figured out we don't want to be eternally happy. Don't any of these guys watch the original Star Trek series? This was like covered two or three times. Oh, right, he's probably all of twelve. (thumbing through appropriate cultural references) We covered this again in the Matrix.
Okay, so when we do develop this drug, and I am absolutely convinced someone with that much money will, can I be the one to administer it to Jon Sperling?
Poets are self-absorbed miserable human beings -- aren't we all, as long as Jon doesn't have his way -- but there's a new bio out on my man e.e. cummings. Or maybe not so new, if you believe the reviewer's last little gripe.
I turned down a new two book offer that came out of nowhere yesterday. Would have taken it, but the short deadlines could not be squeezed into the schedule. So that should suck a little green out of those who think I'm a selfish harpy who gobbles up all the available publishing contracts. I throw some back now and then.