I love reading Sci Fi, but it’s a genre I haven’t had much luck writing in. Mainly because I find it too hard to come up with the kind of plots I think are creative enough. Turns out, I should have worried about it, real life is weird enough.
Yesterday I was reading this Guardian article about a new round of drugs with the potential to manipulate morality, and I found myself checking the date. But no, April 1st really is well and gone. In my mind, this is a terrifying concept, and conjures up snatches of all the dystopian literature I’ve ever read.
To be honest, I don’t want to enhance human capacities with chemicals – even if it could make the world a better place. What I’d really like if for people to try harder to be decent. To that end, I like the thought that art is a gateway to making that effort. Screw your morality pills, I’d rather sit down with an iPod, some gorgeous prints and a few good books.
Pass me the soma.
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