Helen Moorhouse: Dr Online's cure might be worse than disease
THEY say that in laboratories worldwide, terrifying new threats are being created. Genetic mutations that will bring mankind to its knees. Humans controlled by contagion, shuffling about, pale-skinned and rheumy-eyed.
Except you do not really need a lab and a super-villain to invent such crippling contamination. You just pick a child, any child. One who attends school or daycare or, indeed, merely brushes against other tiny germ-carriers in the course of their day, blending their personal microbes to create rashes and rasps and things that ooze. Things that make parents gasp and wonder: "What in the name of genetic mutation is that?"
You would think that in the face of weeping blisters or purple mucus a mum might go to a doctor, a pharmacist or their mother/friend/sister – at the very least, a crone who lives at the foot of a mountain and buries locks of hair and dances by the light of the silvery moon.