Slashdot Mirror
Surgeon Says Face Transplants a Reality
Aspherical Cow writes "A New York Times Magazine article about how a London surgeon is planning on performing an experimental full-face transplant. The face would be harvested like any other donor organ and used on a disfigured person. Lots of issues of identity come up with something like this, but they say that this won't turn Nicholas Cage into John Travolta."
FP! oh, and the link is broken. nytimes is suposed to be followed by '.com'.
"A language that doesn't affect the way you think about programming, is not worth knowing" - Alan Perlis
those who had their faces burned would be better off. Am I right?
my first fp, someone pinch me!
"Good god people, we would have accepted 'bow-wow' or 'ruff'...Ah! Rough, just the way your mother likes it Trebek."
This really is good news! I want one!
:(
This face has a few holes in
Maybe now people like Jacqueline Saburido can have their lives restored to them.
Oh, FP?
Face it, it's just another body part.
Maybe $$$exyGal can get a face transplant to make him look like a girl!
HERE
Check out Chad's News
you know, fuck this website. i don't even know why i came here in the first place. i'm not even a 'nerd'. why does this website even exist? no one really gives a flying fuck about this site except its creators. i'll just stick to reading the CNN tech section, which is where most of these articles come from anyways. Fuck slashdot, fuck all you nerds, i'm out.
Brings a whole new meaning to the phrase "Your face, your ass - what's the difference?"
Actually, I can't see how there would be any identity issues...I haven't read the article, but I can't imagine that anything would be transplanted besides the skin (and maybe some cartilage). The recipiants original bone structure would remain the same...
Imagine this...
You owe people a great deal of money and they send the "heavies" round, but you've already died in an acident.
Someone else has got your face now & the heavies recognise you. Not likely to happen to anyone here, but it could happen in the real world.
And another thing, how would you pass facial biometrics at US airports if the previous face was from a criminal?
Comment removed based on user account deletion
I wonder if I can get someone else's really nice face....I wouldn't mind being a Brad Pitt. Or for that matter, Jennifer Anison (heheh). But seriously, I wonder what the availability of donor faces will be like, should this become a more mainstream reconstructive surgery practice. I'm sure there will be some kind-hearted, altruistic donors out there, but enough to meet the likely demand? I want to look nice for my funeral.....with a face.
[este]
... transplants that are going to make a lot of money.
It's the scalp transplants that will make bazillions. Just think, you can get a whole new type of hair or just have your scalp cloned and slice out the male pattern baldness.
I would pay for that.
A lot of study has been put into what beauty really is. If you look at it from an evolutionary point of view, it's to show us which mates would best carry our genes.
When you change someone's face, you can't help but wonder if you're throwing a wrench into a system thats evolved over so many thousands of years. This argument would apply not only to this, but plastic surgery and what not.
It seams every day, medical technology is weakening the race more and more by causing people to depend on a large infrastructure to survive. At what point do you draw the line between leaving people out in the cold for the greater good or helping them?
Cthulhu Saves.
I always thought Michael Jackson pioneered this technique years ago.
IAAL
to give to hemos and cowboyneal to post so that we'll think they accepted the submission. what next michael? some sheep farmer in parrawattadingdong is thinking of driving into munglebungleflimflam for new batteries for his casio calculator? 'slashdot: news for nerds. stuff that matters. oh yeah, and a lot of shit about a mods homeland which nobody gives a fuck about...'
Apparently everyone who has ever posted a story on this topic, hasn't seen John Woo's: Faceoff..
In the movie, they not only switched skin, they also put "bone structure mimicking" masks on to the characters, so that they would look like each other. That's the miracle, not the switching of the skin. Skin, is skin, is skin.
If you get a skin transplant from your ass, to replace burn or scar tissue, it doesn't look like an ass...
0110100100100000011000010110110100100000011000100
Until the New U becomes possible?
Do have to commit carousel for reminding everyone of that movie?
If you could be told what you can see or read, then it follows that you could be told what to say or think - BoC
Quietly assinate Bill Gates
Pop over to the nearest face transplanting clinic
Shock the world when Bill Gates announces MS are giving up software development and releasing the source to the public
Do not try to read the dupe, thats impossible. Instead, only try to realize the truth
What truth?
There is no dupe
Giving a burn victim a face isn't throwing a wrench into evolution.
Too lazy to login. Damn making new profiles for nightly builds of Phoenix.
Face transplant YOU!
Never! How can you possibly suggest a lack of objectivity? Why, those seven stories in a row about Taco's brother's cool new car stereo were fascinating!
Seriously dude, it's nice for some of us non-Americans to see news from someplace other than Hometown USA for a change.
That crack about "Parramattadingdong" was kinda funny though. Heh.
up above the clouds so high, like i'm sitting in a tree with a child. twinkle twinkle little knife, how i wonder who i are.
see what happens when you post when you're drunk and struck out at a club!
"You never want a serious crisis to go to waste." - Rahm Emanuel
Its a condition called "torsonic polarity symdrome." It's a birth defect that I think we all know atleast one person who has it.
You can read more about TPS here.
True, death is not the worst that could happen to you. But I feel she needs more than just a face transplant.
At least it's a start.
*sigh*
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If this were done on Ms Rosen, what would we call her? Faceless minus one?
"Smoking helps you lose weight - one lung at a time" -- A. E. Neumann
when someone tells you "you've got a face like a chimpanzee", you may really have a chimpanzee's face?
I'm sure some joker will claim that a face has a soul or some crap... :P
That musta been where Bin Laden hid for so long. On the WhiteHouse security staff as a stiff looking blonde guy. You know, the one who kept complaining about his pay.
I wonder how the human brain and psyche deals with seeing a different face in the mirror after years of strengthening a connection between the natural face and the "I".
If you outlaw the law, only criminals will have laws
about Jacqueline.
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organ thieves wouldn't even bother
<B>note to self:</B> <I>post as html</I>
Why in the world does anyone think that identity depends upon someone's face? Are people really that simple-minded?
Also, from the article:
I'm no more reluctant to donate my face for organ harvesting as I am my liver or kidneys. That is to say, I'm not reluctant at all.To the people who've asked about how much the recipient would look like the donor:
However, later in the article it's mentioned that more complicated procedured could harvest some of the cartilage and bone as well as the skin and muscle. I imagine that eventually they could probably come very close to recreating someone's face on someone else, so the idea isn't completely far-fetched. Still, though, our ability to recognize a face is still somewhat of a mystery, although it's understood that our brains put together a great many different subtle clues. My point is that even though we see faces as near monolithic and emminently identifiable structures, the truth is that even a small differences in muscle or bone structure might make a large difference in the overall recognizability of the face. So, I suspect that a surgeon would probably have to be intending to duplicate someone's face via a transplant in order to achieve such an effect.I'm serious. Is John Holmes' still available?
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I can get my :-| turned into a ;-)!
[este]
'(Score:-1 Troll)' huh? Funny how these posts never get modded up to like '(Score:5 Insightful)'! Maybe Michael has given away /. subs to his entire family and every one he went to school with? ;)
Last year, I attented some autopsies at my university (neighter as the one lying on the board nor as an active medic). This has been a great opportunity to see how things are inside your body. The routine of an autopsy includes the opening of the skull and the inspection of the brain. The face remains intact (it is turned over - this can be imagined literally). When the procedure is over, you won't see from the front that the face has been moved.
Anyway, this cannot be copied over 1:1 but it gives you a hint that transplanting faces it not voodo science or (ony) hollywood. I guess the 'commercial' market for transplanting faces exceedes many other types of organs.
More stories about *New Zealand* sheep farmers, that's what I reckon! [Insert obligatory Kiwi+Sheep joke here] Ahhh, sweet, sweet alcohol...
Sixty years ago,I worked in what was once my Grandfather's Greenhouses. Gramps had died a year earlier and Grandma, now in her seventies had been forced to sell to the competition. I got a job with the new owners and mostly worked the range by myself. That summer, they hired a man to help me get the benches ready for the fall planting.
Ike always looked like he was three days from a shave and his whiskers were dirty white, shaded by the brim of his battered felt fedora.
He did not chew tobacco but the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that, at any moment, I expected a trickle of thin, brown juice to creep down his chin. His bushy, brown eyebrows shaded pale, gray eyes.
Old Ike, he extended his hand, lifted his leg like a dog about to mark a bush and let go the loudest fart I ever heard. The old man winked at me, "Ike Thomas is the name and playing pecker's my game."
I thought he said, "Checkers." I was nineteen, green as grass. I said, "I was never much good at that game."
"Now me," said Ike, "I just love jumping men . . ."
"I'll bet you do."
". . . and grabbing on to their peckers," said Ike.
"I though we were talking about . . ."
"You like jumping old men's peckers?"
I shook my head.
"I reckon we'll have to remedy that." Ike lifted his right leg and let go another tremendous fart. "He said, "We best be getting to work."
That summer of 1941 was a more innocent time. I learned most of the sex I knew from those little eight pager cartoon booklets of comic-page characters going at it. Young men read them in the privacy of an outside john, played with themselves, by themselves and didn't brag about it. Sometimes, we got off with a trusted friend and helped each other out.
Under the greenhouse glass, the temperature some times climbed over the hundred degree mark. I had worked stripped to the waist since April and was as brown as a berry. On only his second day on the job and in the middle of August, Ike wore old fashioned overalls. Those and socks in his high-top work shoes was every stitch he wore. When he bent forward, the bib front billowed out and I could see the white curly hairs on his chest and belly.
"Me? I just love to eat pussy!" Ike licked his lips from corner to corner then sticking his tongue out far enough that the tip could touch the end of his nose. He said, A man's not a man till he knows first hand, the flavor of a lady's pussy."
"People do that?"
He winked. "Of course the taste of a hard cock ain't to be sneezed at neither. Now you answer me, yes or no. Does a man's cock taste salty or not?"
"I never . . ."
"Well, old Ike's willing to let you find out."
"No way."
"Just teasing," said Ike. "But don't give me no sass or I'll show you my ass." He winked. "Might show it to you anyway, if you was to ask."
"Why would I do that?"
"Curiosity, maybe. I'm guessing you never had a good piece of man ass."
"I'm no queer."
"Now don't be getting judgmental. Enjoying what's at hand ain't being queer. It's taking pleasure where you find it with anybody willing." Ike slipped a hand into the side slit of his overalls and I could tell he was fondling and straightening out his cock. "Now I admit I got me a hole that satisfied a few guys."
I swallowed, hard.
Ike winked. "Care to be asshole buddies?"
***
We worked steadily until noon. Ike drew a worn pocket watch from the bib pocket of his loose overalls and croaked, "Bean time. But first its time to reel out our limber hoses and make with the golden arches before lunch."
I followed Ike to the end of the greenhouse where he stopped at the outside wall of the potting shed. He opened his fly, fished inside, and finger-hooked a soft white penis with a pouting foreskin puckered half an inch past the hidden head.
"Yes sir," breathed Ike, "this old peter needs some draining." He exhaled a sigh as a strong, yellow stream splattered against the boards and ran down to soak into the earthen floor.
He caught me looking down at him. He winked. "Like what you're viewing, Boy?"
I looked away.
"You taking a serious interest in old Ike's pecker?"
I shook my head.
"Well you just haul out yourn and let old Ike return the compliment."
Feeling trapped and really having to go, I fumbled at my fly, turned away slightly, withdrew my penis and strained to start.
"Take your time boy. Let it all hang out. Old Ike's the first to admit that he likes looking at another man's pecker." He flicked away the last drop of urine and shook his limp penis vigorously.
I tried not to look interested.
"Yes sir, this old peepee feels so good out, I just might leave it out." He turned to give me a better view.
"What if somebody walks in?"
Ike shrugged. He looked at my strong yellow stream beating against the boards and moved a step closer. "You got a nice one,boy."
I glanced over at him. His cock was definitely larger and beginning to stick straight out. I nodded toward his crotch. "Don't you think you should put that away?"
"I got me strictly a parlor prick," said Ike. "Barely measures six inches." He grinned. "Of course it's big enough around to make a mouthful." He ran a thumb and forefinger along its length and drawing his foreskin back enough to expose the tip of the pink head. "Yersiree." He grinned, revealing nicotine stained teeth. "It sure feels good, letting the old boy breathe."
I knew I should button up and move away. I watched his fingers moving up and down the thickening column.
"You like checking out this old man's cock?"
I nodded. In spite of myself, my cock began to swell.
"Maybe we should have ourselves a little pecker pulling party." Ike slid his fingers back and forth on his expanding shaft and winked. "I may be old but I'm not against doing some little pud pulling with a friend."
I shook my head.
"Maybe I'll give my balls some air. Would you like a viewing of old Ike's hairy balls?"
I swallowed hard and moistened my dry lips.
He opened another button on his fly and pulled out his scrotum. "Good God, It feels good to set 'em free. Now let's see yours."
"Why?"
"Just to show you're neighborly," said Ike.
"I don't think so." I buttoned up and moved into the potting shed.
Ike followed, his cock and balls protruding from the front of his overalls. "Overlook my informality." Ike grinned. "As you can see I ain't bashful."
I nodded and took my sandwich from the brown paper bag.
"Yessir," said Ike. "I just might have to have myself an old fashioned peter pulling all by my lonesome. He unhooked a shoulder strap and let his overalls drop around his ankles.
I took a bite of my sandwich but my eyes remained on Ike.
"Yessiree," said Ike, "I got a good one if I do say so myself. Gets nearly as hard as when I was eighteen. You know why?"
I shook my head.
"Cause I keep exercising him. When I was younger I was pulling on it three time a day. Still like to do him every day I can."
"Some say you'll go blind if you do that too much."
"Bull-loney!" Don't you believe that shit. I been pulling my pud for close to fifty years and I didn't start till I was fifteen."
I laughed.
"You laughing at my little peter, boy?"
"Your hat." I pointed to the soiled, brown fedora cocked on his head. That and his overalls draped about his ankles were his only items of apparel. In between was a chest full of gray curly hair, two hairy legs. Smack between them stood an erect, pale white cock with a tip of foreskin still hiding the head.
"I am one hairy S.O.B.," said Ike.
"I laughed at you wearing nothing but a hat."
"Covers up my bald spot," said Ike. "I got more hair on my ass than I got on my head. Want to see?"
"Your head?"
"No, Boy, my hairy ass and around my tight, brown asshole." He turned, reached back with both hands and parted his ass cheeks to reveal the small, puckered opening. "There it is, Boy, the entrance lots of good feelings. Tell me, Boy, how would you like to put it up old Ike's ass?"
"I don't think so."
"That'd be the best damned piece you ever got."
"We shouldn't be talking like this."
"C'mon now, confess, don't this make your cock perk up a little bit?"
"I reckon," I confessed.
"You ever seen an old man's hard cock before," asked Ike.
"My grandpa's when I was twelve or thirteen."
"How'd that come about?"
He was out in the barn and didn't know I was around. He dropped his pants. It was real big he did things to it. He saw me and he turned around real fast but I saw it."
"What did your grandpa do?"
"He said I shouldn't be watching him doing that. He said something like grandma wouldn't give him some,' that morning and that I should get out of there and leave a poor man in peace to do what he had to do."
"Did you want to join him."
"I might have if he'd asked. He didn't."
"I like showing off my cock," said Ike. "A hard-on is something I always been proud of. A hard-on proves a man's a man. Makes me feel like a man that can do things." He looked up at me and winked. "You getting a hard-on from all this talk, son?"
I nodded and looked away.
"Then maybe you should pull it out and show old Ike what you got."
"We shouldn't."
"Hey. A man's not a man till he jacked off with a buddy."
I wanted to but I was as nervous as hell.
Ike grinned and fingered his pecker. "C'mon, Boy, between friends, a little cock showing is perfectly fine. Lets see what you got in the cock and balls department."
In spite of my reluctance, I felt the stirring in my crotch. I had curiosity that needed satisfying. It had been a long, long time since I had walked in on my grandfather .
"C'mon let's see it all."
I shook my head.
"You can join the party anytime, said Ike. "Just drop your pants and pump away."
I had the urge. There was a tingling in my crotch. My cock was definitely willing and I had a terrible need to adjust myself down there. But my timidity and the strangeness of it all held me back.
Hope you don't mind if I play out this hand." Ike grinned. "It feels like I got a winner."
I stared at his gnarled hand sliding up and down that pale, white column and I could not look away. I wet my lips and shook my head.
Old Ike's about to spout a geyser." Ike breathed harder as he winked. "Now if I just had a long finger up my ass. You interested, boy?"
I shook my head.
The first, translucent, white glob crested the top of his cock and and arced to the dirt floor. Ike held his cock at the base with thumb and forefinger and tightened noticeably with each throb of ejaculation until he was finished.
I could not believe any man could do what he had done in front of another human being.
Ike sighed with pleasure and licked his fingers. "A man ain't a man till he's tasted his own juices."
He squatted, turned on the faucet and picked up the connected hose. He directed the water between his legs and on to his still dripping prick and milked the few remaining drops of white, sticky stuff into the puddle forming at his feet. "Cool water sure feels good on a cock that just shot its wad," said Ike.
***
"Cock-tale telling time," said Old Ike. It was the next day and he rubbed the front of his dirty,worn overalls where his bulge made the fly expand as his fingers smoothed the denim around the outline of his expanding cock.
I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew it wasn't something my straight-laced Grandma would approve of.
"Don't you like taking your cock out and jacking it?" Ike licked his lips.
I shook my head in denial.
"Sure you do. A young man in his prime has got to be pulling his pud."
I stared at his calloused hand moving over the growing bulge at his crotch.
"Like I said," continued Ike, "I got me barely six inches when he's standing up." He winked at me. "How much you got, son?"
"Almost seven inches . . ." I stuttered. "Last
time I measured."
"And I'm betting it feels real good with your fist wrapped around it."
"I don't do . . ."
"Everybody does it." He scratched his balls and said,"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Then, looking me in the eye, he lifted his leg like a dog at a tree and let out a long, noisy fart.
Denying that I jacked off, I said, "I saw yours yesterday."
"A man has got to take out his pecker every once in a while." He winked and his fingers played with a button on his fly. Care to join me today?"
"I don't think so."
"What's the matter, boy? You ashamed of what's hanging 'tween your skinny legs?"
"It's not for showing off."
"That would be so with a crowd of strangers but with a friend, in a friendly showdown, where's the harm?
"It shouldn't be shown to other people. My Grandma said that a long time ago when I went to the bathroom against a tree when I was seven.
"There's nothing like a joint pulling among friends to seal a friendship," said Ike.
I don't think so." I felt very much, ill at ease.
"Then what the fuck is it for," demanded the old man. "A good man shares his cock with his friends. How old are you boy?"
"Nineteen almost twenty."
You ever fucked a woman?"
"No."
"Ever fucked a man?"
"Of course not.
"Son, you ain't never lived till you've fired your load up a man's tight ass."
"I didn't know men did that to each other."
"Men shove it up men's asses men all the time. They just don't talk about it like they do pussy."
"You've done that?"
"I admit this old pecker's been up a few manholes. More than a few hard cocks have shagged this old ass over the years." He shook his head, wistfully, "I still have a hankering for a hard one up the old dirt chute."
"I think that would hurt."
"First time, it usually does," agreed Ike. He took a bite from his sandwich.
I looked at my watch. Ten minutes of our lunch hour had already passed.
"We got time for a quickie," said Ike. "There's no one around to say, stop, if were enjoying ourselves."
He unhooked the slide off the button of one shoulder-strap, pushed the bib of his overalls down to let them fall to his feet.
"Showtime," said Ike. Between his legs, white and hairy, his semi-hard cock emerged from a tangled mass of brown and gray pubic hair. The foreskin, still puckered beyond the head of the cock, extended downward forty-five degrees from the horizontal but was definitely on the rise.
I could only stare at the man. Until the day before, I had never seen an older man with an erection besides my grandpa.
Ike moved his fingers along the stalk of his manhood until the head partially emerged, purplish and broad. He removed his hand for a moment and it bobbled obscenely in the subdued light of the potting shed. Ike leaned back against a bin of clay pots like a model on display. "Like I said, boy, it gets the job done."
I found it difficult not to watch. "You shouldn't . . ."
"C'mon, boy. Show Ike your pecker. I'm betting it's nice and hard."
I grasped my belt and tugged on the open end. I slipped the waistband button and two more before pushing down my blue jeans and shorts down in one move. My cock bounced and slapped my belly as I straightened."
"That's a beaut." Ike stroked his pale, white cock with the purplish-pink head shining. "I'm betting it'll grow some more if you stroke it."
"We really shouldn't . . ."
"Now don't tell me you never stroked your hard peter with a buddy."
"I've done that," I finally admitted,. "But he was the same age as me and it was a long time ago." I though back to the last time Chuck and me jerked each other off in the loft of our old barn. Chuck wanted more as a going away present and we had sucked each other's dicks a little bit.
"Jackin's always better when you do it with somebody," said Ike. "Then you can lend each other a helping hand."
"I don't know about that," I said.
Ike's hand continued moving on his old cock as he leaned over to inspect mine. "God Damn! Boy. That cock looks good enough to eat." Ike licked his lips. "You ever had that baby sucked?"
I shook my head as I watched the old man stroke his hard, pale cock.
"Well boy, I'd say you're packing a real mouthful for some lucky gal or guy." He grinned. "Well c'mon. Let's see you get down to some serious jacking. Old Ike's way ahead of you."
I wrapped my fist around my stiff cock and moved the foreskin up and over the head on the up stroke. On the down stroke the expanded corona of the angry, purple head stared obscenely at the naked old man.
Ike toyed with his modest six inches. "What do you think of this old man's cock?" His fist rode down to his balls and a cockhead smaller than the barrel stared back at mine.
"I guess I'm thinking this is like doing it with my grandpa."
"You ever wish you could a done this with your grandpa?"
"I thought about it a lot."
"Ever see him with a hard-on."
"I told you about that!"
"Ever think about him doing your grandma?"
"I can't imagine her ever doing anything with a man.
"Take my word for it, sonny, we know she did it or you wouldn't be here." Begrudgingly I nodded in agreement.
"Everybody fucks," said old Ike. "They fuck or they jack off."
"If you say so."
"Say sonny, your cocks getting real juicy with slickum. Want old Ike to lick some of it away?"
"You wouldn't."
Ike licked his lips as he kept his hand pistoning up and down his hard cock. "You might be surprised what old Ike might do if he was in the mood for a taste of what comes out of a hard cock."
And that is what he proceeded to do. He sucked me dry.
Then he erupted in half-a-dozen spurts shooting out and onto the dirt floor of the potting shed. He gave his cock a flip and shucked t back into his overalls. He unwrapped a sandwich from its wax paper and proceed to eat without washing his hands. He took a bite and chewed. "Nothing like it boy, a good jacking clears the cobwebs from your crotch and gives a man an appetite."
***
The following day, We skipped the preliminaries. We dropped our pants. Ike got down on his knees and sucked me until I was hard and good and wet before he stood and turned.
"C'mon boy, Shove that pretty cock up old Ike's tight, brown hole and massage old Ike's prostate.
Ike bent forward and gripped the edge of the potting bench. The lean, white cheeked buttocks parted slightly and exposed the dark brown, crinkly, puckered star of his asshole "Now you go slow and ease it along until you've got it all the way in," he cautioned. "This old ass craves your young cock but it don't want too much too soon. You've got to let this old hole stretch to accommodate you."
"Are you sure you want to do this?"
"Easy boy, easy," he cautioned. "You feel a lot bigger than you look. Put a little more spit in your cock."
"It's awfully tight. I don't know if it's going to go or not."
"It'll go," said Ike. "There's been bigger boys than you up the old shit chute."
I slipped in the the last few inches.. "It's all in."
"I can tell," said Ike. "Your cock hairs are tickling my ass."
"Are you ready," I asked.
"How are you liking old Ike's hairy asshole so far?"
"It's real tight."
"Tighter than your fist?"
"Might be."
"Ready to throw a fuck into a man that reminds you of your grandpa."
"I reckon."
"I want you should do old Ike one more favor."
"What?"
While you're pumpin' my ass, would you reach around and play with my dick like you would your own? Would you do that for an old man?"
I reached around and took hold of his hard cock sticking out straight in front of him. I pilled the skin back and then pulled it up and over the expanded glans. I felt my own cock expand inside him as I manipulated his staff in my fingers. I imagined that my cock extended through him and I was playing with what came out the other side of him.
"C'mon, boy, ram that big cock up the old shitter and make me know it. God Damn! tickle that old prostate and make old Ike come!"
I came. And I came. Ike's tightened up on my cock and I throbbed Roman Candle bursts into that brown hole as I pressed into him. His hairy, scrawny ass flattened against my crotch and we were joined as tightly as two humans can be.
"A man's not a man till he's cum in another man." said old Ike. "You made it, boy. But still, a man's not a man till he's had a hard cock poked up his ass at least once."
Every time I think of that scene, I get another hard-on. Then I remember the next day when old Ike returned the favor.
I never have managed to come that hard again. If only Ike were here.
Comment removed based on user account deletion
You've wasted all the steam.
Do a Google search for Michael and the censorware project. You will be shocked. Michael was an asshole long before Slashdot. It is hard to imagine Malda being able to find anyone more smarmy.
Perhaps the worst that could happen to him is what's happening now - that he is alive and facing the fact that he was responsible for destroying her life [mind you, she seems to me a very spirited woman. Makes me proud of humanity.]
Do you really think he'd commit the same mistake, assuming he's well-adjusted and has a functional conscience? I didn't think so either. Every moment of the rest of his life will be weighed down by chains of misery.
Also check out her official website.
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We ran this story yesterday over on Sci-Fi Today with lots of extra info links. You can get SciFi Today headlines added to your Slashdot homepage here.
Now all of the
<A HREF="http://www-dept.usm.edu/~engdept/lrrh/inven
versions of the tale</A> will end up bad
The underlying skeleton and musculature of a face is just as important as the skin. Someone with a square jaw will still have it, even if the translpanted face didn't... Someone who is perpetually angry will still look angry even if the donor was not...
From the article: 'But what we're proposing is taking the skin envelope with or without some muscle. So if I were to transplant my face onto you, it would look much more like you than me, because the skin envelope is elastic. It would redrape around your bone and cartilage structure.
The only way to truly get someone else's face on your body would be to transplant the entire head.
I'm sure that Michael Jackson has already bought his plane ticket to London for this one! Now, I wonder what (who'll?) he'll look like NEXT week?
What about the immune system? Won't the face get rejected?
Wacko should have waited, now he's all messed up.
Bearing in mind that a tissue match can sometimes go across ethnicities would people consider mixing and matching skin envelopes of different shades for cosmetic purposes?
On the other hand, the scarring would probably land the recipient ostracised from the conservitave community.
...Slashdot discussed this already here, and that was a dupe of an even earlier discussion. Of course, these are from three or four months ago, and they were based on a different article. So it's not really a dupe, just sorta.
My Greasemonkey scripts for Digg &
To a certain degree, you're right, but differences in skin do exist, depending on body location.
Some skin is hair-bearing, some has different sweat glands, some is thicker, and some has more or fewer nerve endings. For instance, the skin on your elbows has far fewer nerve endings than the skin of the lip.
It sounds like the surgeon is simply doing a large, complex skin graft... that's something burn surgeons have been doing for years. Burn surgeons use a device called a dermatome... in essence a large electric shaver that you can set to shave off very precise depths of skin (to thousandths of an inch) to achieve a split-thickness graft. It's worth noting that skin grafts for burn victims are often meshed to cover a larger area (if you are burned >95% of your body, there isn't much to work with, so you have to make every bit count). The cosmetic results are nowhere near normal skin, but the primary purpose of a graft in a burn patient is to reestablish the protection that intact skin gives you. Absence of skin not only makes you extremlely vulnerable to death from infection, it also causes you to evaporate off enormous amounts of fluid, resulting in rapid dehydration. Cosmesis is often secondary to simply saving a person's life... it's not pretty, but it works. If you were burned, and your ass was spared, you can be damned sure the burn surgeon would harvest the bejeesus out of your ass to cover the rest of you...
I'd be interested to know how he's selecting his patients, and whether he'll do these transplants on smokers. There are some plastic surgeons that won't do skin grafts on a smoker, since the act of smoking can actually lower your capillary oxygen transport enough to endanger the survival of a skin graft.
I'd also be interested in knowing the surgical technique he's planning on using to harvest the skin. Clearly he'll have to do it by hand, use a bit of microsurgery to reconnect the vessels... I can see this being a looong procedure.
I'd probably donate my face, if someone else needed it and I didn't (I'd donate it, just like any other "organ"... and their different bone structure should destroy any resemblance).
Now whether someone would actually *want* my face... wow, I don't know... they'd have to be pretty desperate...
Even if a man chops off your hand with a sword, you still have two nice, sharp bones to stick in his eyes.
Mr Doctor might get a visit by the US gov't on account of the millions they just spent on facial recognition software in airports...
First of all, to even get a donor face, you'd have to take it from a dead donor (Doh, but it's not like with kidneys.. where you can give one and still live a normal.. or at least semi-normal life) And think of how reluctant the loved ones of said donor might be to transplant a face.. even though it wouldn't really be transforming him into the other guy... you can still see how a family might react..
Excuse me, I don't mean to impose, but I am the ocean
Hey,
A New York Times Magazine article about how a London surgeon is planning on performing an experimental full-face transplant.
You know, that this is possible was announced months ago.
I read it here first.
Michael
"Goodness me, how unlike the FBI to abuse the trust of the American public." -- The Onion
Does this take some of the sting out of the old insult "So, what ya gonna do for a face when the monkey wants his bum back?"
excuse me while i vomit all over my keyboard. this is just too revolting.
The good thing was that I looked better -- not like a kid.
The bad thing is that my personality don't fit with my face. I look quite tough now... you might not want to start a fight with me -- but I'm quite laid back and caring. I have problems like everyone else, but I'm a generic nice guy. (Except for religion, I'm a hard line atheist and feel physically sick after I tear som poor religious guy's arguments to bloody pieces.)
And this was personal enought that it will be posted as AC.
He has vitiligo.
This gives a whole new meaning to the term "saving face".
There may be hope for Bush (father & son) yet.
You aren't remembered for doing what is expected of you
For me a face transplant isn' enough. I want a total body transplant! I would like a body that is 10 years younger than the one I have now, and fully functional! It would also be interesting to try what it is like to be a woman for a change.
-- Cheers!
and to prove it, the picture accompanying the post is of Taco.
Jolly Hockey Sticks !
I Volunteer, What ?
I'll bring the strong rope, or at least some elasitated smalls and you can provide the plan, wot ?
eh, ok, I'll be Bill - Rather ! - Wot ! heehaaw...
A slashdotting - you get the stick first and then the carrot !
I think you ranted a bit too hard there - there was no reason to get so damn frantic about this.
People go through hell on a daily basis and live to tell the tale.
Stop being so f'in melodramatic.
Sure - theres' injustive in the world every-which-where you look, but moping about it solves f-all !
Just learn to help yourself and those around and you'll be ok.
A slashdotting - you get the stick first and then the carrot !
Holy beejeezus, they can transplant hearts, lungs, livers, reattach limbs and now transplant faces. When are they going to get the transplant that really matters - I want my 18" porno dick. I mean really, wouldn't it be a happier world if we just cloned a porn star a few million times and instead of having to be trying to right shareware so I can buy a status car, and a status house, I could just buy myself a porno dick transplant and be happy living in a shack!
This is my sig.
Is this just a little bit creepy to anyone else? I mean, come on. A whole new face? That's just fucked up.
I suppose it would have it's uses though. Michael Jackson can finally stop having his nose done, ugly girls around the world will finally have hope of getting a date to the prom, President Bush can get himself a face that doesn't look like that of a simpleton, and good ol' Osama can use this as the ultimate way to hide from us.
Wait. Check that last statement. Honestly, how hard is it to find a 6' Arab attatched to a kidney dialysis (?sp) machine?
I can see it now. "Yes doctor, I was thinking of the Clarke Gable look, but then I broke down and decided that I'd like to have the face of Harvey Korman. Can I get his voice, too? I've always wanted to pull off a good Great Gazoo inpression at parties..."
Blog Prophyts - Right On, Man
I call dibs on Joe Millionaire's face....that way I can definitely get some women!!
Defender of Microsoft and Communism!!!
And as to the role of beauty in evolution, what it really illustrates is the evolutionary arms race between the cheaters and cheater-detectors (to steal the paradigm from Richard Dawkins, and from game theory in general.) There is a certain threshold where it would be more energetically economic to simply pretend your genes are good. So early in evolution, maybe there really was a 1:1 correspondence between a pretty face and good genes. Thereby, a mechanism would evolve for potential mates to use a pretty face as criteria. But when that energy threshold is reached where it costs less to just code for a pretty face than to actually ensure that one's genes are good (thereby destroying the connection between a pretty face and good genes) a new mechanism would likely evolve for potential mates to detect this mismatch. The cheaters would continue to find ways not only to pretend they have good genes but also to pretend that they are not faking it, and the cheater-detectors would continue to find ways to tell otherwise. The face might actually really evolved this way (in the same way that peacocks evolved ridiculously flamboyant plumage and humans evolved a purely hydrostatic, non-bony penis) and I think this is all discussed in The Selfish Gene by Richard Dawkins but I could be wrong.
It's called beer. Drink enough of it, the ugliest face will be transplanted with that of a supermodel.
Warning: may induce vomiting and only lasts 3 hours.
Ergonomica Auctorita Illico!
Lots of issues of identity come up with something like this...
No, lots of tissues of identity come up.
Want to talk? ashaver AT pdx DOT edu
This was reported earlier in This Is London: http://www.thisislondon.com/news/articles/3609267? source=Evening%20Standard. No reg required ;-).
This place is sicker than i thought. Yes, this is very very sad, and I won't forget this picture anytime soon either...
Listen kike, the fact is WHITE MEN are disproportionately represented on death row, NOT blacks or mestizos. The system is strongly biased against White males, just look at the selective enforcement of hate crime laws against White men. The reason why there are so many blacks and mestizos in jail is because they are violent and prone to criminality, it's not due to institutional racism or any other bullshit jew theories.
I would think that a huge problem regarding face transplants would be getting the family to go along with it.
There is a lot of importance attached to having an open casket funeral, and for a lot of people there is a significant need to see and identify the body in order to accept that that particular person is gone. An anonymous body, or an urn full of ashes just doesn't cut it for most people. Particularly when there has been a serious accident.
Removal of the face will make such things impossible. Mourners will not be able to come and see the face of the decased, this makes it more difficult to accept.
I had a friend of mine die in an airplane crash. I refused to believe that he was dead until I saw the body. Even then, I had trouble accepting it because although they rebuilt most of his face, it was pretty badly messed up, and they had to put sheer veils over the casket so you couldn't look too close.
A mortitian once told me a story about someone who had died when their head was crushed. Normally this would make an open casket funeral impossible, however since this person was into motorcycles, they placed his helment where his head should go, put some black paper behind the visor, and had the casket open.
If people are willing to go to these lengths, a facial transplant isn't going to go over too well with the next of kin all that often.
With other organs, there is little or no distinguishable difference. Even the eyes can be donated, and the difference fixed up so that you generally can't tell. The entire face however is going to cause problems for a lot of people, and psyhological need to see the deceased one last time.
There is a civil war coming in the United States. Remember which side has most of the guns
So there won't be any more really crappy movies coming out because of this? What are we going to do?
--"The perfect example of the man of action is the suicide." - William Carlos Williams
Has anyone seen Jermaine recently? (Didn't think so.)
Perhaps you are looking for this.
I think of it more like this... Do I have the right to go shoot the guy that runs the local gun store because I'm not well liked in the neighborhood and I think that he might sell a gun to someone that hates me?
It's not enough to bash in heads, you've got to bash in minds. - Captain Hammer