Isn't it strange?
Feels like I'm lookin' in the mirror
What would people say?
If only they knew that I was
Part of some geneticist's plan (plan-plan-plan)
Born to be a carbon copy man (man-man-man)
There in a petri dish late one night
They took a donor's body cell and fertilized a human egg and so I say
I think I'm a clone now
There's always two of me just a-hangin' around
I think I'm a clone now
'Cause every pair of genes is a hand-me-down
Yeah, I resulted to be a clone of myself from an alternative-future-imaginary-world or something like that. Listen, is this going to affect my welfare check?
Tears... tears. Why am I crying? What... did this mean to me?
If I die, I can be replaced.
So what's it like being a clone? Carib:
About as you'd expect. It's the sort of secret that gets heavier with time and age. Han Solo:
Yeah. I can imagine. Carib:
Excuse me, Solo, but you can't possibly imagine it. Every time one of us leaves this valley it's with the knowledge that every outside contact puts our lives and those of our families at risk. The knowledge that all it will take will be one person suddenly looking at us with new eyes, and the whole carefully created soap bubble of the ever-so-close Devist family will collapse into the fire of hatred and rage and murder.
"If we outlaw cloning, then only outlaws will have clones."
As long as you're around, I'll be nothing more than a mere shadow!
"These people you're copying are already superfluous. You're trafficking in excess."
"The issue is not excess but access
. Others take away reproductive rights, I grant
Oh well, even if we all died tomorrow, there's still another batch of clones to take our place. C'est la vie...
Everything I know is what I need to know,
everything I do has been done before.
Every sentence in my head
You look in the mirror, but someone else looks back. You remember a life you never had, one that cannot be yours. You are the piece that does not fit, you don't belong in this game. The board has been knocked over, you shall be swept away...
and, um... Kevyn, do you have any suggestions for how I handle paying you? I mean, there are two of you now.
: No. There is one of me, and one of him.
There's lots of him. Who'd miss this one?
My name is Jennifer Lucas. I'm not a factory part. I had toast for my breakfast. I wrote a letter to my mum. [...] I am Jennifer Lucas! I remember everything that happened in her entire life! Every birthday, every childhood illness. I feel everything she has ever felt, and more! I'm not a monster. I am me! Me! Me! Me! ME!
Dani: Stop fighting. I know you're too weak to beat me!
Danny: I'm not going to fight you! Every time I fight a clone they turn to goo!
(Dani looks down and sees she's starting to melt)
Danny: But you're not mindless, like the other clones. I don't want to fight you!
Dani: Then let my father have your morph DNA! So he can save me!
Danny: He's not going to save you! He's using you! You're nothing but a mess he's not gonna clean up!
: You're LYING! (blasts him
While the loss of material is extremely taxing, as well as the many navy crews who have lost their lives. Lyrax Pentigure:
Not to mention our clone troops. Nasdra Magrody:
As I said, material, yes.
Golly: But... Molly and I are of like flesh. If this is the world that molded her... I do not wish to become her.
Molly: Who-wha? But that's dumb! Nobody wants you to be me! I'm already me! And you're you! An' it's like totally mete that you should remain you! I pinky-swear that everybody here'd treat the integrity of your self-identity as superdy-duper, profoundly inviolable and stuff and junk! Word!! Do you savvy?
Yes, exactly! I'm afraid that if I stay here, I'll start talking like that!
Today I slew my twin brothers seven times and nearly died four times at the hands of my twins. What kind of war is this that we replicate ourselves time and again, only to waste our own lives on axe blades dulled by endless internecine fighting? Which one of us represents the hopes and dreams of our shared parents? Is it truly death if I am reborn time and again?
Am I more worthy of living or is my twin? Might we not ally ourselves—the Spawned—against the Firsts who recline on golden thrones, stirring themselves only to order us into fratricide?
Perhaps we are no longer even dwarves. When a work of art is copied, and that copy is copied again and again, the results become gross parodies of the original.
I fear that I am but a pale imitation
of the First I once was, willingly killing myself in an absurd parody of narcissism.
We shall take only the greatest minds, the finest soldiers, the most faithful servants. We shall multiply them a thousandfold and release them to usher in a new era of glory.
We're clones, Sir. We're meant
to be expendable.
Look at you! What makes you so damned special? Why you and not me?!