You can all but kill a flower, then stick it into an iron lung of sorts on your patio or breakfast bar, cramping its roots into a pot of limited size, watering and trimming it, and keeping it zombie-alive for a very long time to appreciate its, err, colors; shape; smell...?
That's old news. But how long will it be before a hunter can all but kill a moose, cut its head off, and mount it on a nutrient platform that keeps the head "alive" for a very long time to appreciate its colors, shape, smell, noises, etc.?
All of these little flowers, tugged out of the ground and brought into tiny flower-terrariums in people's apartments, looking so terribly pretty, so longingly beautiful, as they imitate what it means to actually be a flower. Alive, but not alive; free to grow, but not actually free to grow. As soon as we can upgrade our technology from "flower pot" to "moose pot," when I visit hunters, there will be this severed moose head attached beautifully to the wall, grunting and horking and making moose sounds, attached to neurons that plug into the house's electrical power system to keep its mind and fur fresh, so that everyone can appreciate exactly how beautiful moose truly are.
"Oh, is that an eastern Canadian?" "Yeah, I got it at the Trader Joe's. Fresh caught." "Oh, those last a long time if you charge them every week." "Yeah, I know. We had one a few years back that used to make the neatest little sounds...remember, honey?" "Can't we just get some squirrels? Moose are so expensive."