

Plastic surgery, as we know it, will be as old hat as the 'rotary dial telephone'. 'Face Shops' will pop up all over the world. The incredibly wealthy from Asia, Russia and America will flick through the fashion magazines of tomorrow and pick out their look for the new season. Impoverished people from the Third World with good genes and incredibly high cheekbones will sacrifice the faces of their children so that the International Jet Setters of tomorrow can look less like Mutton and a lot more like Spring Lamb.
I can already see the ads on Television, "No Visage, No Worry. Have we got a face for you, no wrinkles, one owner. Dial this number for a new dial. If you are not entirely satisfied then we will give you your own face back at no extra charge. All major Credit cards accepted. Why wait, call now - remember the look you want is just a clone away."
I am prepared to wager large sums of money that somewhere, someone is cloning Brad and Jennifer, Leo and Kate look-a-likes for the single purpose of selling their faces to the highest bidder. If they aren't doing it now, trust me they will be by the time the operation is perfected. Imagine a world full of Paris's.
Remember that old Urban Myth where the man wakes up in the ice bath missing a kidney, well the next time you wake up and think to yourself "gee I was off my face last night", check the mirror.

All in all the whole thing is pretty scary and ... maybe not so pretty either. I might just stick with my own scars and imperfections.
I can't wait until they start harvesting memory. You heard it here first. I give it no more than 30 years.
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