A splice of life

I saw Splice last night. Dark, creepy, occasionally funny, full of slippery moral slopes, abysmal parenting, folk getting drunk on their godlike powers of scientific creation and giving in to base urges. The word love was twisted and abused, and constantly wielded as a get-out-of-jail card for inexcusable behaviour.

Given that the neighbours are indulging their love of bogan bass tonight, after lulling me into a false sense of security with months of peace and quiet, I feel a few dark impulses of my own rising. I’m tempted to pop next door and engage in a little DIY chromosomal upgrading. The introduction of sound-sensitive DNA into their genetic makeup, as well as a better taste in music, would be a definite improvement.