Wednesday, December 01, 2004

MASTODON-TEERS

It's good to be back. Sure Ohio has normal people, beautiful landscapes, run down warehouses, cows, pretty girls with rotund bottoms lacking father issues, and the cutest little 19-month old boy a proud uncle could ever want, but hell. This is Los Angeles, folks. Everywhere I turn I see the manifestation of man's potential - hastily constructed and bland architecture, women wearing ridiculous outfits and men in Hawaiian shirts, the sorry effects of plastic surgery, the endless proliferation of black BMW's, and not a single pedestrian walking more than three city blocks. Heaven? Nah, baby - it's just Century City. It's just home.

So, enough of that. I'm glad to be back rappin' at ya. Sit back and get your fingers out of that window - I'm taking you fools to school.

Now, as most you know, I am in possession of a scientific and rational mind of the highest order. This is just fact. This just is. Nowhere has this been more evident than in my ninth grade "Biology Sciences" class at Mastodon High. Still, brighter days are to come and, indeed, last eve my brilliance once again shone like a beacon into the dark and shadowy recesses of ignorance and downright ridiculousness.

I shall expand.

On the flight into LAX I sat next to a young and buxome lass who, as it so fortuitously turned out, was reading a book entitled "Darwin's God: Evolution and the Problem of Evil". Neti (my neighbor) explained to me, after endless flirting and sparkling bright conversation, that the book sought to present the idea that Evolution as a theory owes its credibility less to the fossil record (which has holes larger than my oversized phallus) and flawed reasoning (we're still waiting for those macro-evolutionary theories) than to the fact that creationism is such a stupid idea. In other words, Evolution is how we came to be simply because no God would be unintelligent enough to litter the geologic landscape of earth's history with millions of failed species.

I cannot begin to tell you how stupid I think this idea is, or how ridiculous that book must be.

Knowing now that this is the kind of material that passes as scientific literature, I have begun work on a book that will be entitled, "Galileo's Munchies: the Caramel Covered Planet and the Notion of Perception", in which I describe how it has come to be accepted as fact that since we have only identified nine planets in our solar system, it is therefore an impossibility that there is, lurking somewhere in the periphery of our vision, a tenth planet in the sun's orbit that is made entirely of chocolate, and covered in a hardened, but no less delicious, caramel shell. I would consult with scientists and speak to the head of the Yale department of Astronomy. I would draw diagrams, and describe through numerous proofs that, by calibrating the energy and force pulling on various planets at particular points in their orbit, that there just cannot possibly be another planet in our solar system, and that planet can therefore not be comprised of chocolate and caramel.

Here's an idea for you, Mr. Scientist who wants to write a Book about Science - don't talk about what God would or would not have done. Because unless you're God (and since you are not me I'm assuming that you are not Him), it seems to me awfully difficult to argue what He would or would not have done. I mean, I get your point. You're trying to discount creationsim as many fundamentalist Christians see it - you are trying to say that the world has been around longer than six thousand years, that women were not formed from the rib of man, and that it would be kind of silly to think that an all-knowing God would need so long to correctly form his shining jewels: us. Well, thanks, but we didn't need a book telling us that. Just like we don't need a book posing as medical research telling us that it doesn't feel good to get reamed up the ass with a garden rake, or an astronomy text telling us there's not a tenth planet made of caramel and chocolate.

Note to the editors of Scientific American: no, you cannot purchase this essay for your next publication. Knowledge this insanely prescient shall forever be in the public domain.


This image of a trilobite is proof that if you write a book about any subject and talk about God, people will buy it, because they're saps.

8 comments:

Danny Fisher said...

So what happened with Neti? Digits?

Mathis said...

Bitch lives in San Jose. Fuck that.

Mathis said...

But, actually, yeah, I got digits. Straight up business card action. You know how we do down in Accounts Receivables.

King Koopa said...

Hey Masty, if her number starts with '555-' there's a pretty good chance she works in TV or movies...

Mathis said...

Koopa: Are you putting us on, or are you really that dense?

King Koopa said...

I thought it was funny. You should too, genius.

Anonymous said...

You, sir, could charm the pants off a trilobyte.

Mathis said...

I actually have charmed the pants off a trilobite, and believe me: I was not impressed.