Hat Shrapnel

Science Bully

 

John Keefner - When it comes to science, I am angry. Really angry. This is how I cope.

The first rule of Science Club is you don’t talk about Science Club.

When I was in fourth grade, the school bully and has squad of goons cornered me against the wall before class. He grabbed my jacket and slammed me up against the brick wall and started yelling at me for something. I don’t remember what he wanted, but I do remember my instinctual gut reaction. The world slowed while I swung my violin case up from my side and hit him on the side of the head, knocking him, his goons, and me down, giving me the time to kick some dirt in his face and run off to class. You might think that a violin case wouldn’t be the best weapon, but it was about three feet long, armored with rough plastic and pokey hinges and latches, it weighed about fifteen pounds, and I had it right there in my hand. Later that day I was called to the principal’s office. The bully was suspended for a week and I was asked to consider, in the future, avoiding beating people with my orchestra equipment.

 

The second rule of Science Club is you don’t talk about Science Club.

Ever since then I have lived with the confidence of knowing that I could deter any physical conflict by merely picking up the closest item and swinging it as hard as possible and also screaming at the top of my voice. Keyboards have plenty of sharp edges and a decent amount of heft. Computer mice are equivalent to a half a nunchuck or some kind of aboriginal squirrel-hunting device. A laptop is undoubtably lethal if struck upon the neck or temple. A blackberry or iphone can be hurled at great speed to crush the larynx or the groin to knock a man down. I do not envy the fate of anyone who comes after me when my trusty swingline stapler is within reach.

 

The third rule of Science Club is when someone says stop, or goes limp, even if he’s just faking it, the Science is over.

I remember the first time I met Mark. It was in the parking lot of a bar, we were playing chess. He looked me in the eye with the desperate look of a man who had lost it all. “I want you to hit me as hard as you can” he said. It isn’t that Mark has a death wish, indeed he craves living life to its fullest.

 

The fourth rule of Science Club is only two guys to a Science.

The fifth rule of Science Club is one Science at a time.

The fourth and fifth rules of Science Club are probably the most commonly ignored. There are a lot of science opportunists out there, and also a lot of lone wolves. I have done both and neither are pretty. I have probably whittled away my entire scientific career on the idea of studying Mars and asteroids. There are only five people in the whole world who actually do this full time and one of them must die of old age or mysteriously disappear before someone can take their place, and even then the competition is tremendous. Once a person does become a popular scientist, then they have to juggle the raging hoards of lackey graduate students, jealous peers, and the unrelenting public, all while maybe doing a little work on the side. The other end of the spectrum is the scientist that works, eats, sleeps, and dies in the basement closet of some underfunded university. Sure, this has worked a few times, look at Einstien, but mostly these guys are lucky to be included as co-author in a publication they wrote and end up with a terminal illness because the other side of their closet-office wall houses the constantly-on Hard X-ray Source for the physics experiment that is vaporizing mice in the second sub-basement in the floor above. Two scientists, working together on one project at a time. That is how it is done right.

 

The sixth rule of Science Club is they Science without shirts or shoes.

I have hairy knuckles and am not afraid to use them.

The seventh rule of Science Club is the Science goes on as long as they have to.

I used to work at a lab at an unnamed university that rhymes with the Buniversity of Blinneysota in Blinneapolis.  There I prepared samples and ran a piece of equipment that heated up rocks and then compressed them. No big deal, except this piece of equipment was called a bomb, for very good reason. This particular setup heated up samples to molten orange temperatures and squeezed the rocks so hard that they deformed with the consistency of putty. If the vessel holding the rock happened to crack and decompress, the 3 inch thick-walled steel tube could explode with the force of a jammed canon. That is why I, the intern, got to sit outside the steel blast shield and monitor the readings for up to 36 hours at a time. Whatever it takes, that’s what I say. And you won’t find the results in any peer reviewed publication to date.

 

The eighth rule of Science club is If this is your first night at science club, you have to do Science.