Frankenfish

Coming from Hawaii, I obviously like seafood. Because of that, I try to keep up with all of the trendy seafood news more than I would keep up with other not so important things, like politics or what drug test(s) Lindsay Lohan is failing now. So you can imagine what I was thinking (hint: it was “huh?”) when I read this story.

Now genetically modified organisms have been a subject of debate for awhile. On one hand, you could get more out of the animals and feed everybody in the world. On the other hand, you could start sprouting tentacles from your back.

Now as a person who was asleep for a large portion (99%) of the only genetics-related class I ever took, I’m a little foggy as to how this whole genetically-modified stuff actually works. I mean when you read the story it sounds like they just put three different species of fish in the water, turned on some Marvin Gaye, lit some candles, turned out the lights and waited for things to get freaky. A friend told me they use DNA splicing or something, but that doesn’t sound nearly as fun. Unless maybe the scientists are listening to Marvin Gaye and saying “Oh yeeaah” in really deep voices while they are splicing.

Regardless of how it happens, we do know what we end up with. The “frankenfish” is twice as big as a normal salmon but takes half as long to mature. Personally, salmon is my least favorite fish, but if this whole experiment means that when I order a salmon filet I get a huge chunk of meat the size of Snooki’s poof then I’m all for it.

In fact, I say they start making other genetic changes to animals. Like they should make fish that have legs and can walk around on land so that the darn state of Colorado can actually have fresh seafood. Not chunks of tuna that have been frozen so long that you could use them as dry ice. And don’t try to tell me that Colorado has fresh fish. Catfish and tilapia are not fish. They eat dirt or something because that is the texture that they have when you eat them. I don’t trust fish that swim in rivers. People pee in rivers and throw rocks in there. I much prefer the ocean, which is much cleaner, at least when BP isn’t dumping oil into it.

They should also breed fish without bones. I mean, I’ve watched fish in aquariums and I still don’t see what they need bones for. Jellyfish live in the ocean don’t need bones, and frankly if all I had to do all day was float around in the ocean (which actually describes me on my breaks in Hawaii) I think even I wouldn’t need them. This way, I would not have to work around bones when I try to eat fish. As an official lazy person, I don’t like food that requires more calories to eat than you get from actually eating it. This is why I rarely eat crabs or pistachios.

While genetically modifying animals opens up a world of genius possibilities such as the ones I have proposed, it also opens up a can of worms. (Haha get it? Worms? Because you catch fish with worms? Oh never mind. You people have no sense of humor). Every sci-fi killer animal movie I have ever watched has begun with scientists experimenting on some sort of animal, and trust me, I have watched a ton of these movies. It’s normally all I do on weekends.

Because of these movies I have a natural distrust of scientists. For one thing they never experiment on cute, cuddly, non-threatening animals like koalas. No, they experiment on sharks and crocodiles and generally things with large teeth. The next thing you know, large killer animals are eating women running around in bikinis that are somehow bulletproof (the animals, not the bikinis). I always yell at the screen “You idiots of course the killer animal is going to escape its small cage! Now it’s going to go and terrorize a group of students on spring break and eat the minorities first but somehow make the two main characters fall in love!”

These scientists are saying that all this genetics mumbo jumbo is safe, since these fish are apparently engineered to be sterile. I guess this should mean that the possibility of large killer salmon terrorizing the South is low (and praise the Lord, there is already a movie about that very scenario). But I don’t care if they are supposedly sterile. Marvin Gaye can get anyone in the mood…

Space Oddity

So apparently yesterday was the 40^th anniversary of the U.S. landing on the moon. I know this because for some reason everybody thinks it’s big deal, which honestly surprised me; I mean brave souls risk their lives everyday going to places like North Dakota and we don’t make a big deal about that now do we? It’s not that I don’t think landing on the moon was important, but I mean Led Zeppelin debuted that same year and I don’t remember a big celebration for that (and don’t tell me that landing on the moon was more historically relevant; I still listen to Led Zeppelin, while I have never been to the moon as far as I can remember).

I’m sorry; you’ll have to forgive me. I’m just not one of those guys who just lie down and look at the stars and wonder about far-off galaxies and the meaning of life and all that other retarded mumbo jumbo emotional stuff. If you ever see me lying down at night and looking up at the stars, please call 911, because I definitely did not get there willingly (or knowingly). But I must admit I am the exception to the rule, because from the beginning of time, man has looked up into the sky and wondered about the vast mysteries of space. For an example, we once again call upon cavemen Oog and Wog:

Wog: What do you think those lights up in the sky are?

Oog: I would say it looks like a thousand light bulbs. Or maybe a thousand fires.

Wog: We haven’t invented light bulbs yet you idiot. In fact, I don’t know if we’ve even discovered fire yet.

Oog: Well we better, or else I’ll have to watch my TV in the dark.

Unfortunately, future civilizations didn’t know much more about how space worked than Wog and Oog. Space is one of the few things that even we humans may never fully understand (along with curling, AIDS, and women). I had an astronomy class last year, and the one thing that my professor kept emphasizing is that we find out new things about space every day, and even what we think is fact today may be proven wrong tomorrow. Of course this didn’t stop them from giving me tests on these so called “facts” and informing me that I had the “wrong” answer. I politely informed them that maybe if they waited until tomorrow new evidence would prove me right, but they never went for that. They constantly ridicule the Church for being close minded to new theories on space and exiling Galileo and yet here are these professors failing me for daring to think as no man has thunk before (see, my spell-check is being close-minded and telling me that thunk is not a word; but as a pioneer of thinking I am ignoring the squiggly red line).

The other thing they emphasized in my astronomy class is that space is very big. Every astronomy book will then insert a “space” and “spacious” joke, because humor is essential in textbooks. Of course it doesn’t help that textbooks get all of their jokes from people who aren’t very good at being funny, like scientists, professors, funeral undertakers, and everyone involved with “Late Night with Jimmy Fallon.” Anyways, if you want to feel like your life is small and insignificant and for some reason “Keeping up with the Kardashian’s” isn’t on TV, go to an astronomy lecture. Think about it: you are one small speck on a planet that is one small speck in a solar system that is one small speck in our galaxy that is one small speck in our universe. But of course instead of just saying that, scientists always for some reason decide they have to explain it to you with fruits and marbles as if you were some kind of chimp.

So I guess the fact that things in space are so far apart is one reason why going to the moon was such a big deal. But we all know the main thing is that we beat the Russians. Anytime we beat Russia at something they are supposed to be good at we should celebrate, which may be the only reason anyone in the U.S watched gymnastics in the 80’s (we still watch today so we can root against the Chinese). Russia is like that kid in the class that talks funny and has a unibrow but the teacher has to be nice to because he’s sort of smart and carries a shotgun everywhere. So to me, landing on the moon is no bigger an event than the Miracle on Ice, and if you are being compared to a hockey game that’s never a good thing.

Still, I guess landing on the moon is pretty impressive. It must have been neat to be a kid watching Neil Armstrong finally land on the moon. On a side note, we are kind of lucky that the first man to walk on the moon was Armstrong. For one thing he has a cool name; you know you’re a badass with a last name like Armstrong. I mean the letters in “Neil Armstrong” can be rearranged to spell “manlier strong” (of course they can also be rearranged to spell “girl ornaments”). Plus, he had the presence of mind to realize that his first words on the moon would be remembered forever and say something really cool and inspiring. Whereas if I had been the first man on the moon, my first words would have been something like this:

“Holy s**t dude, I’m walking on f**king moon. Hi mom!” (I would have then proceeded to sing “Walking On the Moon” by the Police even though technically the song debuted ten years later).

As you can see, that would have been disastrous; it’s hard to inspire children about the joys of space exploration when you have to bleep the first words on the moon. Although to be fair, Armstrong had months to think of what he was going to say; I thought of my speech in less than ten minutes.

Of course, once the initial thrill of landing on the moon went away, we realized that the moon is a pretty boring place. It looks like the Midwest, just with fewer cows and more hookers. In fact, that’s my main argument against those people who think that they faked the moon landing. If they faked it, they probably would have made it look worth all the hype and tossed in a Rolling Stones concert and fireworks or something. Astronauts were getting so bored that one of them brought golf equipment (you know NASA is filled with old white guys when they look at the moon and their first thought is “I’d like to see my wife stop me from golfing up there.”)

So sadly NASA decided to stop wasting money on trips to the moon and decided to waste money on different projects, like failing to launch shuttles. But maybe one day, we will return to the moon. Who knows, maybe the Russians will finally get up there, and instead of golf, they’ll play hockey up there. Lord knows nobody is paying attention to it down here.

Back to the Future

The other day I accomplished a feat of epic proportions: I managed to stay awake through my entire philosophy of science class (okay, so I also got there thirty minutes late, but so what). Needless to say, I immediately wished I had fallen asleep. Philosophy of science is one of those things that seems harmlessly enough, but can get really confusing really fast (like women). I remember that a few classes ago, I vaguely remember somebody saying something about snakes moving at the speed of light before I drifted off into a troubled sleep. I’m pretty sure that if snakes could move at the speed of light, somebody (like the president of the United States) should be warned so we can take appropriate action (like sending some snakes on plane to Iran).

Now to be fair, I am not a big science guy. The extent of my scientific expertise is reading long words on nutrition labels (the biggest difference between skinny and fat people is that skinny people read the nutrition labels before they buy food, fat people read them while they are eating the food). I do not trust science or scientists for a very logical reason; it is all voodoo. Bill Nye is the only source I trust when it comes to science.

Anyway, the day’s philosophy topic was time travel. Now if you’re like me, you think that time travel was one of those things that only existed in the movies, like black presidents (note to self: replace with “smart dogs” if Obama wins). But apparently time travel is a very serious topic in philosophy of science cause there we were, discussing with straight faces what would happen if we traveled back in time and (I’m not making this up) date-raped, mugged, or flirted with our younger selves. One person also suggested we “punch our younger self in the sternum.” I don’t know why he chose the sternum. To be honest, I don’t know where on my body my sternum is. Bill Nye never mentioned anything about them.

But this got me thinking, what would I do if I could travel back in time to see my younger self? For starters, I would tell myself not to take philosophy and science. In fact, I would go to my high school self and tell him to not go to college in the first place. “The economy is going in the crapper anyway,” I would tell me. “Don’t bother with all the applications and essays. Just start selling crack right now. Oh, and ABC is going to come out with this new show called Lost, and you will want to watch it. Don’t! It’ll just fill your brain with unfinished plots, unanswered questions, and an unhealthy obsession with Evangeline Lily.”

Of course, I wouldn’t waste too much time talking to myself with so many other things to do (also I’m pretty sure it would be the most unintelligent conversation in the history of mankind). I would go to the midnight unveiling of the seventh Harry Potter book and scream at the top of my lungs, “Dumbledore is gay!” I would travel to a time when dinosaurs and Cloris Leachman roamed the Earth and swat the first mosquito. Then I would find the parents of Shakespeare and make sure they never meet, thus freeing millions of innocent children from the horrors of plays in English class. I would go back to the seventh day of Genesis to finally prove my theory that God created football on Sunday and intended for us to watch football on the weekend, not go to church.

But that’s just me. Maybe you might go back and do honorable and helpful things, like fix those damn levees or give the starving children of Africa winning lottery numbers. So what would you do? Feel free to leave your plans in a comment. That is, if computers still exist when I’m done. Because I’m gonna go back in time and convince Bill Gates and Steve Jobs forget their jobs to deal crack with me.