Beauty and Genetic Enhancement :: Creative Writing Essays

Beauty and Genetic Enhancement      Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚   Nausea.   To describe the whole situation in one word I would have to choose nausea.   The Expo center was packed with societies elite,   eagerly waiting the announcement of what the rumor mill had told them to be the most important invention of the decade.   The air was cold and damp, like that of a hospital.   Barley audible was the most annoying Michael Bolton song that I could imagine.   As I got entranced by the dullness of the situation I noticed that the lights were slowly getting dimmer.   As Michael Bolton's voice became silent, Dr. Zimmerman spherical body came waddling out.      Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚   Dr. Zimmerman was a very large, gluttonous man.   I had worked with him many times, and I had lost more than one of my ideas to his fat hands.   He was ruthless, unemotional, and conscienceless; the perfect scientist.   He painstakingly climbed onto the two foot platform in front of the podium, making a little grunt that accidentally found its way into the microphone.   "Hello? Can you guys hear me in the back?"   He gurgled in his natural grotesque voice. With the acknowledgment of the audience, he sipped the glass of ice water which stood on the podium and cleared his throat.   "Ladies and Gentlemen, I am here to inform you of a discovery that my team of genetic scientist and I have discovered."   The more he said the more I wanted to hear. I wanted to shout to make him blurt it out, but it was impossible to speed him up, attention was the reason why he became a scientist.   He didn't care about the effects of his discoveries, as long as he packed the expo center the next weekend.  Ã‚   "The quest toward perfection is finally over.   Your unborn children now have the opportunity to be everything you ever wanted them to be!"   A large blue vein slowly became visible through his cherry red forehead. "Birth defects are a thing of the past."   Suddenly the severity of the situation slammed into me like a subway train.  Ã‚   "There will be no such thing as an imperfect child!"   The sound of flapping mucus in his throat was almost unbearable.  Ã‚   The applause began, I knew it wouldn't stop for at least ten minutes because Dr. Zimmerman wouldn't let it.   I ran to the bathroom to think about what had just happened.      Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚   Dr. Zimmerman was referring to the G.A.M.   project, Genetic Alterations for Mankind.   The team of four was lead by him.   The goal was to alter DNA of freshly fertilized embryos, to control every one of their physical and mental