By Daniel Johnson

 

Born a millionaire 

 

So yesterday I found out I’m a millionaire. Multi-Millionaire in fact. I’m talking 45 million, airs. 

 

My life hasn’t changed much though. 

 

I still can’t afford a computer, still have that spare tyre around my waist, still have a shitty commute to school, still looking for a 3rd job to get to school…

 

Why?

 

Well, I can’t cash out on my multi-million-pound asset because I am the asset. 

 

My body, chopped up, sold and distributed via the health care system (or black market if I’m feeling risky). 

 

So yeah, much of my value necessitates my death, which sucks. But there’s no problem too mighty for google.

 

“What organs can I live without and how much are they worth”

 

Apparently, my corneas are worth $24k.

 

I wonder if I could sell one. Id get to keep my vision but make a bunch of cash. 

 

Then I’d get myself a little hut on a remote beach and a gold plated eye patch. 

 

And theeeen when people ask me how I make money, I can start helping others sell their own organs, for a fee of course. Everyone deserves to be rich right. 😉

 

Perhaps there are some philosophical or moral considerations to be had before I sell my marrow over eBay though.

 

I mean, while a platinum robot leg sounds awesome, what about that whole body is a temple malarkey. 

 

I think generally people feel their bodies are private places to be respected. To be valued for intrinsic reasons. 

 

Some of us even feel that our bodies are sacred, an expression of our identity and carriers of our soul.

 

But look at how fast that moral high guarding is swept under the bed when illness or extreme desperation befalls us. 

 

How fast would you be open to taking a limb, if your life was on the line? It makes me wonder if values are just another privilege? 

 

You see, every body has a monetary value. Insurance shows us that a grown adult is more important than a child.

 

Apparently, the soul couldn’t stand up to economics. 

 

However you identify with your body, I personally feel uncomfortable knowing I’m worth more dead than alive. 

 

It just feels, off.