Science fiction has become science fact. Using the technology first developed in the 1996 film Multiplicity, in which a beleaguered and overworked father has himself cloned so he can balance the demands of work and play, the powers that be at Notre Dame have deemed it necessary to increase the scope of their recruiting. Though no one is talking publicly. On Oct. 4, a convenient two days prior to the Irish victory over UCLA, the body of George Gipp was exhumed from his grave in Laurium, Mich., to undergo DNA testing. The reasons are being kept secret by members of the Gipp family, who requested the removal of the body. Puzzling. Why would anyone be interested in verifying the identity of a former Irish football player who died from pneumonia and a strep infection in 1920? Evidently, it's time to dig one up for the Gipper. In the midst of the worst season in school history, the Golden Domers are looking for answers. How could a team with so much history, lines of top recruits and an Einstein-in- stretch-to-fit-Dockers head coach be so bad? The discontent has not yet reached a fever pitch, but those who fund the nation's 17th-largest educational endowment won't sit back and let their program dwindle. But at Notre Dame? Why, of all places, would a Catholic university delve into an area of study that critics proclaim is akin to playing God? Good question. The sad truth, however, is that the university has been working toward this goal for years. According to a 2005 study by Notre Dame faculty members Irene Kasumba, Faruck Morcos and Jeffrey Spies titled, Assembling a shotgun sequenced BAC clone from Anopheles funestus genome, the university has successfully produced a "Total of about 1,760 clones were sequenced from BAC clone." So deep is Notre Dame involved in the black art of cellular manipulation that it even reaches the newest students on campus. The Notre Dame course catalog boasts openly a freshman science class in which "the state of 'genetic engineering' research, the recombinant DNA controversy (including the implications of this kind of research on society and the individual) will be presented." The Gipp family has not commented on why they had the body exhumed, but an ESPN film crew was there to record it, this according to espn.com Why is a corporation that continually shuns all but the biggest markets suddenly interested in the happenings of a small northern Michigan village with a population of just over 2,000? The reason is disturbing. NBC's rights to televise Notre Dame football games ends in 2010 - just in time for the cloned Gipp's junior season Heisman Trophy campaign - which will be carried each week by, you guessed it, ESPN. Already the unseen puppet master behind Major League Baseball, the NCAA, the NFL and, as of last week, the first two days of The Masters, the former Entertainment and Sports Programing Network needs Notre Dame to finish its complete takeover of American sports. Notre Dame needs this unholy union with ESPN to retain its control of college football. Is Gipp the answer? It couldn't hurt. Then again they could use Hunk Anderson, Bob "Grandpappy" Dove, Red "Six Yard" Sitko or Tommy Yarr. So far the Irish have only crossed the goal line six times, or .06 percent of what Gipp, the talented runner, passer and kicker, accumulated in his 32-game Irish career. No question the school playing before a slightly embarrassed Touchdown Jesus, would benefit from Gipp's defensive prowess that resulted in no completed passes against him during his career. But his reported familiarity with notorious dance halls could bring unwanted attention, as could his gambling habits. Repulsive as Notre Dame's cloning of The Gipper may be, what is even more disturbing is that the Irish are not alone. Still hurting from their stunning loss to D-1AA Appalachian State, University of Michigan scientists have been hard at work trying to resurrect Fielding H. Yost, who during a five-year period outscored his opponents 2,821 to 42 and, most importantly, managed to beat Ohio State. Army, sick of getting whooped by Navy and in an effort to boost recruiting, has gotten the CIA to revive Doc Blanchard and Glenn Davis while the university that gave us the nuclear bomb but dropped football because it was academically immoral has stirred the pot by bringing back Jay Berwanter. Not to play football of course, but to hit up donors with tales of the very first Heisman Trophy winning season.