In this grand experiment that we have been dragged into kicking and screaming by those who would attempt to devise the perfect human, the perfect animal, the perfect plant, by manipulating their basic genetic structure to suit a preconceived design, we are being led by babies in adult diapers who have no understanding of the very things that are crucial in revealing the perfection that is sought.
We are taught in school that practice makes perfect, and in a way, it does. Repetition and rote have their roles. We build muscle by repetition. We learn to write by repetition. But we each do these things differently no matter how much uniformity we attempt to maintain. We are taught to do the same thing each time in order to produce something that is within uniform parameters. But we will never reach the goal of complete uniformity. It is unattainable. Each repetition is different than the one before it and the one after it. True uniformity does not exist.
So why do we equate uniformity with perfection and just assume that when everything appears to be exactly the same it will then be perfect? Nothing is exactly the same, and uniformity can never attain perfection because it lacks the one thing that brings brilliance to an otherwise bland existence. And that is – the imperfection, the straying from the mold, the seeming randomness that makes up the uniqueness of each and every life form. Not one is the same. Not one. All are unique.
And we are setting ourselves up to lose it all to the limited constructs of a few geneticists’ awkward attempts at mimicking creation, who plug away at changing our genetic structure much like a baby taking his/her first steps and not anticipating the inevitable crash. That unique combination of genes and outward influences that make up each and every human, animal and plant on earth is becoming lost in a factory that spews out genetic mutations just as fast as it can rake in the profit.
There is a design to this life that we know nothing about. When we try and change that design, we are as children playing in a mud puddle. We can only guess at what our machinations will produce in the long run. Anyone who says differently is either very, very confused, or lying.
Instead of the genetic revolution that we are being told is the salvation of mankind, we just might very well be facing a genetic devolution of mammoth proportions if we don’t reign in this insane quest for a monocultured, uniform society devoid of the perceived imperfections that are so necessary for true perfection to flourish.
©2013 Barbara H. Peterson