A genetically modified grape is being developed in South Africa. A 'Mengele' style super race of grapes to guarantee near perfect outcomes from every crop.

Playing God and fiddling with genes is a dangerous game. It only takes a peckish migrating bird, with a bad case of constipation, to eat a plump, rather smug GM grape. By the time its bowels have finally emptied, the excrement could have ended up continents away, spreading the GM contaminated seed to a cosy vineyard in Bordeaux.

I suppose you might argue that the putrid parcel could just as easily land on someone's head, a small insignificant rock out at sea, or a newly painted car. Thankfully in that case the GM cargo in the guano would be as likely to germinate as the effluent from a passenger brushing their teeth on a passing plane.

The excitement of the unknown due to little imperfections is a very valuable part of life.

Nature (with the help of much vine bed swapping) has done a pretty good job so far with grapes (apart from that Tesco Valpolicella I had the other week).

Still coming down from my trip to California I wondered what it would be like to live out there. The perfect bright white teeth and constant sunshine seem very appealing, but I imagine the homogeneity would not sit well over time.

A similar feeling to 'The Unbearable Lightness of Being' (Kundera).

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