Clones are in the news these days. Korean clones.
But they've never been news to me.
I was trained to kill clones, you see. For years, the scientists would clone me and make me fight myself.
It was always messy.
I was ordered to have no mercy. I had to eat my clone's head after every fight. They told me it would make me smarter. Thousands of fights and thousands of brains later, all I know is that... I taste pretty damn good.
[This post is dedicated to Lorianne Schaub of Hoarded Ordinaries: Zen teacher, writer, naturalist, doctoral student, and of course, blogger. Go visit Lorianne's blog here, or rifle through her manifold profundities here. Lorianne's the one who suggested I do something on clones, but I noticed that everyone else had gotten to the subject first. So instead of Photoshopping you an Al Gore sporting multiple schlongs ("I invented the dick bouquet!"), I offer you this exercise in gratuitous violence, which of course all Buddhists naturally aspire to. Lorianne's already killed several Zen students as an example to the others in her sangha. "Battleaxe satori in the spirit of Nan Chuan," I think she calls it. Her neighborhood is also strangely cat-free.]
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