Okay, I lied, I clicked. But only after my wife looked over my shoulder and said, “you’ve simply got to look at that.”
“Nope,” said I, with a condescending smirk. “I know click-bait when I see it and I’m not interested.”
So here I am, she’s left the room and I’m reading all about the damn meatball because I see no end to this kind of drivel being promoted on social media, let alone publicized on The Guardian, a once renowned and reliable source of news. Who on earth would find a scrap of Wooly Mammoth DNA and find it either worthy or interesting to carry out the cloning, much less to create a meatball?
I have to know
Well, therein is the trap, the question that must be answered, lest one go to bed and stare endlessly at the ceiling, unable to let the unanswered question remain unanswered. Damned if there wasn’t an accompanying picture of a meatball. Not only that, but a cooked meatball. Was that the actual meatball or a stand-in, something conjured up by Jamie Oliver on an off night?
Did …