My husband, Nate, is a behavioral researcher who collects fecal samples from baboons.
His boss is Hubert Murdash, emeritus professor of evolutionary biology at Stanford and senior author of a new report that suggests—contrary to what women assumed—men are not baboons.
The day before this important report was released—a report that would shake fundamental knowledge of biologists everywhere—I begged Nate. I pleaded with all my strength. I implored Nate to come clean and tell the authorities exactly how he had gathered evidence for the study.
See, I hope you can understand that I had just been so worried about my husband’s health. He had been acting so strangely since he started working as a researcher for Murdash. Who knows what inspired Nate to stray from the standard procedures of collecting fecal matter and studying that matter for stress hormones? Instead, my husband hacked into baboons’ cell phone voice messages, e-mail accounts, and facebook pages. My poor dear; he’s so conflicted. On one hand, he feels awful for invading the baboons’ privacy. On the other, he feels it necessary for the advancement of science. Scientific integrity is so much different from, say, journalistic integrity. When it comes to discovering something as important as—Men are not baboons—it is important to use whatever means necessary to prove the scientific truth. Besides, is hacking into phone messages really any less intrusive and humiliating than collecting and studying fecal matter (not to mention less fragrant)? That was Nate’s view on the matter, anyway. But I could tell that this corruption was torturing his poor soul.
Well, I’m sad to report that Nate went to work the day the report was released, and he hasn’t been home since. I suspect he's still out carousing with his cronies, the baboons. I just hope The Press doesn't catch wind of this hacking scandal. Old Murdash would get heat, and only Nate would be blamed for everything and lose his job. We need the income. So, let's just all nod and quietly agree Men are not Baboons.
Friday, July 15, 2011
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
Three Months to Live
Daniel Castro is a day trader who sells futures contracts in Light Sweet Crude.
Daniel enjoys life with his wife—he finally won her heart ten years ago when he’d made enough to buy her The Ring she’d wanted—and his two small children—they’d finally been able to create them, after big help from the fertility clinic.
Though he’s got a trophy wife and chess-champion kids, what Daniel is most proud of is his Tax Break.
He pays 2 percent on all his profits. Only two percent! One. Two.
Unfortunately, yesterday, Dan went to see Doctor Hugo Blackman for a routine checkup.
Daniel received bad news.
Daniel Montgomery Castro has three months to live. Stage 5 cancer. Spread everywhere!
Still, Daniel Castro can’t help but remain proud of the fact that he only pays a two percent tax on his profits.
It won’t be easy to face the truth of his mortality, but Dan likes to think he has a good sense of humor about all this. When his doctor predicted his death, Dan said to Doctor Blackman, “Watch out, Doc. Death is coming to get you, too. It’s just a question of who goes first.” Daniel’s comment made the doctor twitch and chuckle and feel a little odd. Mister Castro was right. Doctor Blackman had been so consumed with thinking of everybody else’s mortality that he’d started believing he was somehow deathless.
So, Doctor Blackman gave himself an exam; consequently, he has put himself on a strict diet of eating only Local and Organic Greens. Perhaps he’ll live forever, and if not—the good Doc tells himself—that’s okay too.
As a last request, Daniel tells his wife to write on the tombstone:
“Daniel Montgomery Castro, rest his soul, paid lower taxes than his doctor.”
Daniel enjoys life with his wife—he finally won her heart ten years ago when he’d made enough to buy her The Ring she’d wanted—and his two small children—they’d finally been able to create them, after big help from the fertility clinic.
Though he’s got a trophy wife and chess-champion kids, what Daniel is most proud of is his Tax Break.
He pays 2 percent on all his profits. Only two percent! One. Two.
Unfortunately, yesterday, Dan went to see Doctor Hugo Blackman for a routine checkup.
Daniel received bad news.
Daniel Montgomery Castro has three months to live. Stage 5 cancer. Spread everywhere!
Still, Daniel Castro can’t help but remain proud of the fact that he only pays a two percent tax on his profits.
It won’t be easy to face the truth of his mortality, but Dan likes to think he has a good sense of humor about all this. When his doctor predicted his death, Dan said to Doctor Blackman, “Watch out, Doc. Death is coming to get you, too. It’s just a question of who goes first.” Daniel’s comment made the doctor twitch and chuckle and feel a little odd. Mister Castro was right. Doctor Blackman had been so consumed with thinking of everybody else’s mortality that he’d started believing he was somehow deathless.
So, Doctor Blackman gave himself an exam; consequently, he has put himself on a strict diet of eating only Local and Organic Greens. Perhaps he’ll live forever, and if not—the good Doc tells himself—that’s okay too.
As a last request, Daniel tells his wife to write on the tombstone:
“Daniel Montgomery Castro, rest his soul, paid lower taxes than his doctor.”
Friday, July 08, 2011
Bernie Madoff Book Club
To become a member of the Bernard Madoff Book Club, all you need are deep pockets.
We are an elite group of readers who read all the novels that Bernie reads in prison. Our new book club promises to out-Oprah Oprah’s Book Club. Any novelist who knows what’s good for him will try to write the next big title that will win the readership of Bernard Madoff.
We manage your investments. We make your money work for you. So what if we breach fiduciary duties now and then, at least we read great literature.
The title we discuss at our next meeting will be Das Kapital by Karl Marx.
We’ll meet July 16 at 7 pm in the Ballroom at the Mel Weiss Library on Wall Street.
We ask for a $5 donation to cover the fee for renting the meeting space.
We are an elite group of readers who read all the novels that Bernie reads in prison. Our new book club promises to out-Oprah Oprah’s Book Club. Any novelist who knows what’s good for him will try to write the next big title that will win the readership of Bernard Madoff.
We manage your investments. We make your money work for you. So what if we breach fiduciary duties now and then, at least we read great literature.
The title we discuss at our next meeting will be Das Kapital by Karl Marx.
We’ll meet July 16 at 7 pm in the Ballroom at the Mel Weiss Library on Wall Street.
We ask for a $5 donation to cover the fee for renting the meeting space.
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