If only to ensure that Face/Off does not become a standard teaching tool in our nation’s hospitals, I agree that we should tread carefully here:

Now we are confronting the imminent possibility that human faces will be transplanted. This month in The American Journal of Bioethics, a team of transplant surgeons at the University of Louisville announced their intention to pursue the transplantation of faces. Last year, a task force at the Royal College of Surgeons of England cautioned against them.

There’s also this:

How many people can we reasonably expect to give up one of their – or their loved one’s – most symbolic body parts? Many funerals call for open caskets, and people typically request that the undertaker preserve the face. Before we find face donors, we may first have to reform our death rituals to ease the discomfort that removing faces will generate.

We already keep donors’ names confidential in order to ensure that their families and the transplant recipients never actually cross paths. Can you imagine a world where you could see someone walking around with a loved one’s face, even after that person has died?

When deep space exploration ramps up, it’ll be the corporations that name everything, the IBM Stellar Sphere, the Microsoft Galaxy, Planet Starbucks. – Fight Club

From The New York Times comes this story about the marketing of space:

“If we can connect the desire of space with the desire of private companies to have their brand associated with heroes and speed and technology, everybody wins,” [Peter H. Diamandis, the founder of the X Prize Foundation,] said.

I’m not so sure he’s wrong. I think it’s vitally important that we go to the stars, and somebody has got to foot the bill.

On the other hand, I’d sort of hate for our first ambassadors to another planet to be McDonald’s.

Banner ads that automatically play video are bad enough, but this one continued playing (audio only) even after I’d closed all my web browsers.

I guess that’s another reason to avoid the Sci-Fi Channel website…

Having been unemployed for about three months now, I read stories like these with a kind of keen nostalgia. (Even if it is about the German workforce:

[Theologian and psychologist Thomas Holtbernd] added: “Humour relieves the pressure in all forms of life and especially so in the workplace. It doesn’t have to be clowns and a Monty Python sketch every five minutes, however.”

Although wouldn’t that be an interesting place to work?

Speaking of Monty Python — which I guess, really, I need no excuse to do — the Penn State Monty Python Society is apparently in the process of updating its constitution. (All my intel comes secondhand these days.) Anyway, in preparation for that revision, one of the Society’s members sent out the earlier version, last revised (coincidentally, if I recall) on September 11, 2001. My favorite part of that particular constitution (written, I believe, by then Minister of War Victor Colonna) has always been Article I, Clause E, which reads:

The Hindu Clause: Everyone is a member of the Monty Python Society, even if they don’t believe that they are a member of the Monty Python Society.

But really, how can you not like a constitution threatens to use Robert’s Rules of Order “as a weapon in gladiatorial combat”?

As I noted a couple of weeks ago, I haven’t actually read — nor do I feel any real compulsion to read — Anne Rice’s latest book, but I was struck by the following comments she made to The New York Times today:

“People who find fault and problems with my books tend to say, ‘She needs an editor,'” Ms. Rice said. “When a person writes with such care and goes over and over a manuscript and wants every word to be perfect, it’s very frustrating.”

She added: “When you take home a CD of Pavarotti or Marilyn Horne, you don’t want to hear another voice blended in. I feel the same way about Hemingway. If I read it, I don’t want to read a new edited version.”

What struck me was not the fact that I’d never in my life before heard of Marilyn Horne. (Ms. Rice and I must not share the same musical tastes.) It was the fact that, unless I’m very much mistaken, recording artists like Horne and Pavarotti have record producers and other collaborators who work on their albums. And Ernest Hemingway had an editor.

After all, it isn’t always enough to want every word to be perfect. As Aldous Huxley once said, “A bad book is as much of a labour to write as a good one; it comes as sincerely from the author’s soul.”