Whenever the image of Dolly, the genetically engineered sheep appears on the news, I can't help but feel sorry for her. I happen to be the kind of person that values all life on the same level of importance, so it's hard for me to say "she's just a sheep." But Dolly has made me rethink my life-valuing principles because not only have I been saying "she's just a sheep," but I've also found myself saying, "at least she's not human." Since the benefits of human cloning are immeasurable from the possibility of curing the incurable, to cloning organs for transplantation, to helping infertile couples conceive, why are we so fearful of its inevitability?

While there's a part of me that finds it utterly amazing, and exciting, that there are actually people intelligent enough to discover what many of us believed to be impossible, there is a stronger part of me that wishes Dolly's creator could have kept his secret to himself. I am one of the first to cry freedom when it comes to the integrity of creative exploration, but how can a society that still hasn't learned to accept people of other colors, religions, and body-types possibly be ready to accept clones? Wouldn't we find a way to ostracize them as well? Wouldn't we consider them carbon copies of an original? Secondary citizens? Reproductions? How can a society that can find a negative use for just about every scientific discovery, possibly survive with such a potentially dangerous weapon at its fingertips? As far as I can tell from human evolution to date, we are still a species of primitive minds.

If we were to hand a rifle to a caveman without explaining it functions and dangers, he would probably shoot his head off, or that of his child. However, there is still that dim hope that he might jump eons of intellectual evolution and discover the function of the weapon without hurting himself or someone else. As modern day "cave-people" this is where we stand today as we face the implications of science and technology that reach beyond our ability to understand.

In the same way that I cannot visualize what lies beyond the universe as we know it, my mind comes to a rapid halt when I try to think of all the implications involved in human cloning. I am not a scientist, so I can't begin to imagine how DNA can be extracted from a cell in the first place. Then to create a human being by by-passing almost all conventional methods of reproduction is beyond my comprehension. But to attempt to redefine the meaning of life from DNA extraction through that first breath is beyond all capacity of conceptualization. The idea of creating life through technology without sexual contact has been a discussion for many years and as a result we have in vitro fertilization and artificial insemination -- concepts that have become common medical practice. These discoveries were also feared at one time, but only because it brought us another step closer to non-sexual reproduction, or the redundancy of humanity. Now we've arrived at the place we've feared, and now we have to try to figure out where we go from here.

Our fears are not unfounded because in contemplating the implications of human cloning, we are being forced to define the meaning of life, family, religion, culture, and sex. Where can this new technology take us? Will it lead us to new heights of understanding ourselves, or will it lead us to our end? From media commentaries to senate hearings, the idea of creating human life through technology has been equated with the image of Frankenstein, but the connection has not been made in the way I would like to see it made. Mary Shelley addressed the issues of science versus nature when she wrote Frankenstein -- a horror story, not because it is about a monster that kills people, but because it is about the irresponsibility of technology without understanding.

"Cursed, cursed, creator! Why did I live? Why, in that instant, did I not extinguish the spark of existence which you had so wantonly bestowed?" So said the creature to his creator. For those who have never read the book, the story of Frankenstein is not about a monster that breaks away from his creator, but a creator that deserts his creation. Dr. Frankenstein unleashes the unknown upon an unsuspecting world hoping that it will either go away or take care of itself. It may be an important book to read now that we approach the 21st century because of its very simple theme: it is not enough to have the technology, and to use the technology, but we must also nurture the creation, take responsibility for it, and be prepared for the consequences.

The President of the United States banned government funding of human cloning, temporarily, to buy some time for everyone to digest this onslaught of ideas. Afterall we've only just begun to use DNA to identify criminals and not always successfully. How are we going to identify people if there are 50 clones of one individual, all with the same DNA? Will we replace identification through fingerprints and social security numbers by having our brain waves recorded at birth -- at least until they learn how to clone the human brain? Perhaps they'll find a way to magnetize the human aura like a credit card. Is reproduction through human contact going to disappear? Is the cloneless individual going to be the anomaly? Are women going to become paid incubators until the invention of the mechanical womb? Are men going to be obsolete because we no longer need sperm? We have a lot to digest.