So I’m thinking about creating a new high-tech start-up and already I’m faced with debilitating roadblocks. First, there’s the fact that when it comes to things science, I’m dumber than a leaking paper sack of Kamala Harrises mixed with chunks of broken drywall. And lint. And upside-down hammers.  I was just reading about this new company, Heliospect Geonomics. They’re geared for wealthy people or those with great health insurance. For $50,000, to start, they’ll do DNA testing in the womb to see, and, possibly influence, your baby’s IQ, bench press and personality.  I’m guessing Heliospect Geonomics must be a Republican company because they call those wiggly little things inside a mommy’s tummy, “a baby,” instead of “a lousy good-for-nothing buzzkill lifeless clump of cells with cooties that needs to be run out of town on a rail, albeit a tiny one,” which is the Democrats’ favored terminology.  Anywho. Heliospect is an English company, which I find strange. You’d think with all their lab know-how, they’d be able to first repair England’s notoriously crooked, cracked and yellowed teeth. Still. Heliospct claims that, after the $50,000 check clears, they can screen a couple’s embryos for desirable or undesirable traits. Like, slouching. Or, perhaps, in the later teen years, put-upon heavy sighing. Heliospect can supposedly prescreen a pre-pre-pre-pre nursery-school-aged soul for both good qualities and bad, which, I’m just guessing here, would be an attraction to youth soccer.  Dear Mr. Boston:  I cannot, in the strongest of terms, protest my disagreement with your opinions on AYSO soccer because, alas, the ability to protest was bleached out of me in the womb by Monty Python-esque scientists in Great Britain. I’d also like to write that I wish all youth soccer games ended in a more DEI model of a 0-0 tie, but, then, in a Gavin Newsom liberal dream world like that, why get out of bed?  The latter query was not rhetorical. WHY get out of bed?  Yours truly,  Hunter Biden  President, Divorced Or In Spirit SCV Soccer Moms Alone At Home All Day. Or Not.  Thank you, Huntie.  Michael Christenson is the CEO of Heliospect. In an interview with “The Guardian,” Mike noted that creating, “…lab-grown eggs would allow couples to create embryos on an industrial scale — a thousand, or even a million — from which an elite selection could be handpicked.”  Hmm. There’s a word for that. I can’t seem to recall. Oh, yes. Now I remember. In a World War II-era Tarzan movie, Johnny Weissmuller is hiding behind a tree, trying to lure some hapless German soldiers to their jungle demise. Tarzan calls out, “Ohhhhhh, Naaaa-ziiiis…?!?!?!?!” Just what we need. Another master race of lockstep Democrat-voting millionaires with $500 haircuts. To be fair, Heliospect is working on screening out the “Dark Triad” of personality traits — Machiavellianism, narcissism and psychopathy. I’ve a question. Again, involving Democrats. If babies are born naturally liberal, and the Dark Triad gene pool was eliminated, wouldn’t they explode at birth?  That’s why I’m thinking about starting my own genetic engineering company in which can insert positive — CONSERVATIVE — psychological and personality traits into this nation’s future youth. I’d start with the easy stuff, like injecting a gene that makes an 8-year-old jump up from the kitchen table and yell, “NO! MOMMY!! Put that trash down! You work so hard already. I’LL take the trash out!” Who knows though. Perhaps this tweaked gene might have side effects. Like severe eye twitching or a violent reaction where the 8-year-old tries to tear off his or her face while lugging a 4-pound bag of garbage 20 yards to the trash cans.  I’m sure with the right tinkering, we could cause our offspring to have debilitating dizzy fits when they don’t do their homework, eat their or other people’s broccoli or go online to make a date with a 32-year-old in the Coast Guard when they’re but 13.  Would that be beautiful? At least for we parents? To rob our children of dumbbell childhood mistakes, replacing them with a response of, “Daddy. I’ll be home a couple minutes before 10 tonight from my date with Raoul. And, because you asked, I’ll use my genetically enhanced convincing skills to get him to change his name from Raoul to Timmy and have his tattoo and wimpy moustache surgically removed. Can I bring you home anything from the store or something hot from a fast food outlet?”  It would be a subtle mixture. You don’t want to create a mini Stepford Wife. Or Husband. However. Wouldn’t it be nice to hear a contrite thank you for the sacrifices made as a parent? Or, a sentence never uttered in 100,00 generations, “Geez, Dad. I never looked at it that way. Let me think about it and would you mind if the two of us could take a couple hours and discuss it further?” Jagged inhalation of air by the father. Clutch chest. Keel over.  Or how about a DNA shot where the teenage heartthrob daughter looks at her outfit in the mirror, winces and says, “I think I’ll change into something not-so Leave Nothing To The Imagination/Vegas crack whore …”  I think I’d call my new company, “Punk-Away Solutions.” Or, something softer sounding, like, “Mood Anew.” Or, maybe, “Brat-Begone Technologies.” With a name like the latter, I’d have to invent an aerosol spray. When our beloved prodigies are throwing a hissy, just pull out a smartphone earbud, spritz into their acoustic auditory meatus and, voila, they become, ahem — pleasant — in an instant.  Sigh. “Brat-Begone?” Heavens. I’d take a few million Democrats, especially the ones in positions of authority, sit on their chests, pry the top off the 55-gallon Economy Spray Bottle and waterboard them with enough gooey liquid until they blink and gratefully cry out, “I’VE SEEN THE LIGHT!!!!!”  Next week, Halloween at 12:01 a.m., John Boston launches his comedy, history, commentary, satire, patriotic and online shopping boffo enterprise, johnlovesamerica.com. Do visit! The post John Boston | My New Inc.: Take Out the Trash-O-Genics appeared first on Santa Clarita Valley Signal.