Am I Right?
And Yet, Here We Are
Have You Tried Cutting Out Starbucks? Maybe Cable?
Raises Hand
You Knew This Was Coming, Right?
"Fake News! Fake News!"
Isn't It?
I Ask Myself This Every Damn Day
Let's Hope History Repeats
Oh Snap!
Because It's True
"It's a Miracle!"
Nicki Finally Responds
The Ignorance of RWNJs is Just…I Have No Words
Because It's True
I Think This Map Can Be Extrapolated to the Entire U.S.
And Here We Are
Snap!
Remember…
The Hypocrisy of the Republican Party…
At Least It Would Be Honest
Now There's a Thought
This Cunt
I Know, Right?
Disgusting
"Host Bodies."
And so, the Axlotl Tanks were created…
The Axlotl tanks were living organisms within the original Dune series of novels.
Axlotl tanks were the means by which the Bene Tleilax reproduce a living human being from the cells of a cadaver, producing type of clone called a ghola. These tanks were also used in the creation of genetically engineered assassins known as Face Dancers. Later in the series, the Axlotl tanks are engineered to replicate the spice Melange, previously only available on the desert planet Arrakis where it is created naturally as part of the life cycle of giant Sandworms.
The Bene Gesserit suspected that the Axlotl tanks were what remained of female Tleilaxu, since no Tleilaxu females had ever been seen. Moreover, the Reverend Mother Darwi Odrade, during the time of the Honored Matres, had declared to Tleilaxu Master Tylwyth Waff that neither she nor any of her sisters would become an Axlotl Tank. This remark elicited shock from the Master, a reaction that indicated that the Bene Gesserit suspicion was true, especially since he did not deny it.
Genetic information could be coded into those bred in Axlotl Tanks. As a result, the resulting organisms could be bred for certain aptitudes, skills, and reflexes.
Despite the revulsion Axlotl Tanks caused in many groups and cultures, by the time the Honored Matres had conquered the planets of the Old Imperium, the Bene Gesserit had adopted them for the creation of gholas to further their own cause.
I have a feeling Frank Herbert is either rolling over in his grave or laughing uncontrollably at his own prescience.