April 2, 1997
Talk
Clone ranger
Jello Biafra barks at a nation of sheep.
JELLO BIAFRA
is alternative culture's answer to the Energizer Bunny: Once he starts he keeps going and going and going. In San Francisco, he has been going for some 20 years -- first fronting that irascible, ruckus-loving band, the Dead Kennedys, then founding the Alternative Tentacles label in 1979 as a means of taking sonic subversion to a global level, and spearheading a campaign against censorship in the arts. Currently Biafra divides his time between his work as a spoken-word activist and his latest musical project, a new album from Lard (featuring members of Ministry, with Biafra on vocals), titled Pure Chewing Satisfaction, due out in May.
Bay Guardian: What's the significance of cloning a sheep? On a metaphorical level, does it bode ill for the future?
Jello Biafra: I don't see why people are so upset about cloning sheep. American television networks have been doing that to their audiences for years. I'm hoping that the cloning apparatus will be taken away from scientists and corporations and handed over to the darker side of the art world. Imagine the gene splicing that could be done by Survival Research Labs. And anything a sheep farmer could do with cloning, Gwar could do far better. I also think it might be the next step for rebellious teenagers. Maybe the way to shock Mom with her tummy tuck and breast implants and Dad with his pectoral implants is to sneak down to the doctor and have devil horns implanted in your head. Maybe a long Clockwork Orange nose, too. Now that even Republican secretaries have piercings, it's the next step. After that comes creative gene splicing. Imagine people getting inspired by old movies and deciding to graft Rosie Grier's head onto their own shoulders.
BG: With Ray Milland on the other shoulder [as in the 1972 sci fi flick, The Thing with Two Heads].
JB: Exactly. Well, actually, Ray Milland might be a better thing to have right about crotch level.
BG: Who would you like to clone, ideally? Whose clones would you like to disseminate across the planet?
JB: Well, the first person who comes to mind is Judi Bari because she was so radiant and charismatic, had such a great sense of humor, and died far too young. I miss her. I'd also be tempted to clone my sister and her husband, Clive, because they died last fall too, in a rock-climbing accident. They were both really smart, caring, brilliant, dynamic people.
BG: And your worst-case clone scenario?
JB: I would say the most terrifying thought that comes to mind is an invasion of Dianne Feinstein clones with large lizard tails crawling out of the sea one day, devouring people right and left. The more Feinstein's jowls grow, the more terrifying she becomes. She's finally looking like what she is: take off the makeup and the wig and it's a Chicago ward boss staring back at you, asking for a bribe. The only thing missing is the big cigar. And what if you mixed these different cloning genes together -- what would you come up with?
BG: What?
JB: I don't know, but it wouldn't surprise me if that military disease-research center in Maryland that let the Ebola monkeys escape were already playing around with this stuff. What scares me the most is that at the corporate government level what they probably want is an entire nation of clones of Barry McCaffrey, the no-nonsense drug czar. And one goal of Pentagon cloning, I'm sure, would be to wipe out all humor in the world. If you see these people for how ridiculous they are, you're one step closer to not turning into the same thing, and that would defeat the purpose of cloning. It would give new meaning to the term "It takes a village to raise a child" -- that's r-a-z-e -- because the underside of that is you'd better clone all of them or it'll take one child to raze the village. Either way, it's far more beneficial than an entire generation of Hillary Clinton clones. The trouble is that Bill and Hillary are such nicey-nice people, they think that maybe if we were all clones of them and wore our uniforms to school and work, all the problems of homelessness and gang violence would go away.
BG: OK, imagine the Alternative Tentacles staff slipped you a Mickey, extracted your DNA, and cloned you. Does the prospect of another Biafra fill you with fear, awe, or ennui?
JB: All I can say is that I wouldn't want to be that kid's father. He'd be hell to raise. And he'd have a hard time surviving among the Feinstein lizards and McCaffrey clones.
|