1 definition by perpetual optimist
Today, they are still mostly hunted in the wild, although geek farms have been on the rise for the past few years. Organ harvesting is their most important use and only real contribution to the economy and society in general; their genes are similar enough to human beings that the risk of rejection is no higher than normal.
Their hides make for poor sources of clothing. They can be used for paper and certain other thin, lightweight fabrics, owing to the naturally pale, dry, yet flexible composition of the dermal layers. Due to to expensive treating processes, though, this is only cost-effective in areas where all of the other biomass has already been consumed.
Cattle slaughterhouses can easily be used to render geeks for their flesh. Little or no conversion is necessary. Although normally poor in nutrient value, and difficult to locate besides, the muscle fiber of the geek often contains high concentrations of stimulants, especially processed caffeine and complex sugars. Since geeks are not allowed access to human society or products under normal conditions, it is assumed that these materials are the result of pollution in the environment. Distilling these chemicals from the useless flesh they are embedded in can be expensive, but the sometimes dangerously (to humans) high concentrations mean that the essential components of over a hundred barrels of coffee or carbonated soft drinks can be harvested from a single geek.
(Geek bone harvesting is not recommended. Their skeletons on average are far less dense than that of humans, and as such do more harm than good in recuperative therapy.)
Finally, experimental drugs and surgical procedures, especially genetic manipulation, are prime candidates for geek testing. The physiology is similar enough that the results from such tests are often more accurate than identical testing on primates. There are also no legal or ethical dilemmas, since no government has ever recognized the geek as having any rights beyond that of any ordinary animal; additionally, all religions agree that they have no souls.
Their hides make for poor sources of clothing. They can be used for paper and certain other thin, lightweight fabrics, owing to the naturally pale, dry, yet flexible composition of the dermal layers. Due to to expensive treating processes, though, this is only cost-effective in areas where all of the other biomass has already been consumed.
Cattle slaughterhouses can easily be used to render geeks for their flesh. Little or no conversion is necessary. Although normally poor in nutrient value, and difficult to locate besides, the muscle fiber of the geek often contains high concentrations of stimulants, especially processed caffeine and complex sugars. Since geeks are not allowed access to human society or products under normal conditions, it is assumed that these materials are the result of pollution in the environment. Distilling these chemicals from the useless flesh they are embedded in can be expensive, but the sometimes dangerously (to humans) high concentrations mean that the essential components of over a hundred barrels of coffee or carbonated soft drinks can be harvested from a single geek.
(Geek bone harvesting is not recommended. Their skeletons on average are far less dense than that of humans, and as such do more harm than good in recuperative therapy.)
Finally, experimental drugs and surgical procedures, especially genetic manipulation, are prime candidates for geek testing. The physiology is similar enough that the results from such tests are often more accurate than identical testing on primates. There are also no legal or ethical dilemmas, since no government has ever recognized the geek as having any rights beyond that of any ordinary animal; additionally, all religions agree that they have no souls.
Geeksteak! The new astronaut food!
Thank goodness they exist only to serve us, or little Timmy not have gotten his new heart, liver, kidneys, lungs, and two spare pancreases! And each came from a different donor, can you believe that? What a wonderful time to be alive.
HP's new geekpaper gives you both brilliant white negative space and the satisfaction of knowing nothing so important as a plant was disturbed to give you the medium you need to get the message across.
Thank goodness they exist only to serve us, or little Timmy not have gotten his new heart, liver, kidneys, lungs, and two spare pancreases! And each came from a different donor, can you believe that? What a wonderful time to be alive.
HP's new geekpaper gives you both brilliant white negative space and the satisfaction of knowing nothing so important as a plant was disturbed to give you the medium you need to get the message across.
by perpetual optimist March 3, 2007