Summary

The author of the article expresses a desire for more imaginative and practical genetic modifications, such as seedless mangoes, non-flowering basil, and cantaloupes that change color when ripe.

Abstract

The article "GMOs We’d Like to See" by an unnamed author humorously laments the slow pace of biological innovation, contrasting current genetic modifications with the fantastical expectations set by science fiction. The author longs for genetically modified organisms (GMOs) that would cater to everyday inconveniences, like the hassle of dealing with mango seeds, the constant pinching of basil flowers to maintain leaf growth, and the difficulty in determining the ripeness of cantaloupes. The piece draws a parallel between these desired GMOs and the ease of consuming seedless fruits like bananas and watermelons, suggesting that science should prioritize such practical advancements.

Opinions

The author is dissatisfied with the current state of GMOs, finding them unimaginative and not aligned with their personal desires or the promises of science fiction.
There is a preference for GMOs that simplify everyday tasks, such as eating mangoes without the struggle of seeds, rather than those that are currently available.
The author views the reproductive aspects of basil plants as a nuisance, wishing for a genetically modified version that would not flower and thus require less maintenance.
The article suggests that science should focus on creating GMOs with visible indicators of ripeness, like a cantaloupe that changes color, to accommodate those with sensory limitations, such as individuals with constant allergies affecting their sense of smell.
The author playfully criticizes the reliance on smell to determine the ripeness of cantaloupes, highlighting the inadequacy of this method for people with allergies or other sensory impairments.
There is a humorous tone throughout the article, with the author poking fun at their own inability to understand how to eat a mango and their reluctance to perform the task of pinching basil flowers.

GMOs We’d like to See

Summertime, and the writing is easy. If you write listicles, that is. Listicles are to blogging what hot dogs and hamburgers are to cooking. You can get away with them during July. Come August, people start to complain. It is still July. Eat your hot dog.

I recently came across a great article by Rachel Klein that she called:

Twilight Zone Episodes Based on My Existential Suburban Anxieties

Who’s a Good Girl?: Two women stand in a park with their backs to the camera, their dogs playing in the distance. We…

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Which I would have called, “Twilight Zone Episodes We’d Like to See.”

I often use the “…we’d like to see” construction as a homage to Mad Magazine. I’ve written:

Dog Breeds We’d Like to See

We hear a lot of talk about innovation. Medium is filled with stories about technological, biomedical, and financial…

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Apps We’d Like to See

A while ago, Ellie Guzman wrote “Future Movies” speculating on movies that she would like to see made:

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VR Worlds We’d Like to See

The recent Consumer and Electronics Show might have been boring. I didn’t go, but looking at the “videos” page of the…

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And,

Nicknames We’d Like to See

Straightforward Generic Nicknames

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If you were smart, you would read one of those instead of going on, but I understand, you want the fresh dreck. I‘m not above pandering to the audience, which is why I have written:

Genetically Modified Organisims We’d Like to See

As with most of the scientific progress in my lifetime, I am disappointed by the pace of things. Sure, I never thought that I would have a phone that could tell me that I just ate at the Clam Shack based on my GPS location or that I would be wearing a band on my wrist that would scold me for sloth, but those aren’t the things I anticipated or, frankly, was promised.

We were told, via stories like The Island of Doctor Moreau, that there would be far-ranging biological innovation. Sure, we can grow human skin, clone sheep, propogate sterile mosquitos, and develop plants filled with systemic insecticides, but NONE OF THOSE ARE THINGS I WANTED.

What do I want? Well, I’m so glad you asked.

Mango Without Seeds

I don’t know how to eat a mango. I’m not sure how to cut them. Don’t tell me it is easy. Don’t give me a link to a youtube video of someone peeling and cutting up a mango. Do you need a Youtube video to figure out how to eat a banana? Is there any point to showing people how to cut a pear? No, there is not. Why can’t mangoes be like them?

We bred the seeds out of bananas and watermelons. Why can’t we do that with mangoes? Where are the sterile mangoes? I have an idea for the scientists among you. Take the genes of a mule and mix them with those of a mango. Doesn’t sound hard to me.

I don’t buy mangoes because I can’t figure them out. One time I was contemplating buying one at an outdoor market. I picked up a mango and a guy from the Carribbean enthusiastically said, “gonna suck on a fat mango.” It didn’t seem obscene at the time. He was just being nice, but I wondered, “Is that what I’m supposed to do? I’m supposed to suck on this fucking thing? I’ll just buy a peach.”

Basil That Doesn’t Flower

Maybe it’s just that since I have gone through man-o-pause I’m against all reproduction. You know, you lose enough testosterone and you just start fantasizing about a world without any sex at all. Don’t worry, it’s not that depressing. I know you think so. You’re young. Trust me. I get more pleasure out of watching a Yankee game than you can imagine.

I grow Basil every year. I grow a good amount of it. To keep it growing right, you have to pinch off the flowers. Guess what? Basil wants to flower. It is a horny plant. It just can’t wait to open its ovaries to those bad girl bees and other pollinators.

I, like some nun out of a Magdalene House laundry, have to work to keep the basil chaste. It’s traditional for me to perform frequent floral circumcision to protect the basil from itself. I want it to grow up right.

I wish I didn’t have to do it. I’m not growing plants so I can mutilate them. Why can’t science develop an abberation for me? I need some godless, floral monster that does what I want it to do. Don’t worry, when we bend the natural world to our will through science it always turns out fine.

Cantaloupe That Changes Color When It is Ripe

Kelly Conaboy is onto something when she asks:

Are Melons Good?

The answer may surprise you.

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But the answer is simple. We just need a melon that turns blue when it is ripe. Avacados change color when they are ripe. Lobsters change color when they are cooked. Why can’t cantaloupes broadcast an external manifestation of their inner goodness?

People in the know will tell you that you have to smell the cantaloupe to see if it is ripe. Thanks, olfacto-normie. Have you ever considered the fact that some of us can’t smell at all because of our constant allergies? Yea, nothing. I smell nothing. Don’t cry for me, the one or two times a year that I can smell convinces me that I have the better end of the bargain. The world is full of dog shit, garbage, and guys eating radishes on the subway. I don’t need to smell, but there are shortcomings. I figure out that fish is bad when it hits my stomach. My first indication that the toast is ruined is when I see smoke. Opening cataloupes is a constant source of disappointment. It never works.

Why can’t someone “science the shit” out of these things?