Bat spit and rat pants - scientists are just big kids
By Burton W. Cole
Walking behind a generously stout woman, one of my cousins — who ought to remain nameless — anyway, Tom observed, “It looks like she’s smuggling two hogs wrestling in a gunny sack.”
I wish to let you know that I did NOT even snicker at his crude remark. I wish I could. Instead, I heard myself say, “I think one ham just snapped a headlock on the other.”
Fortunately, those crazy guys down at the science lab have been working on more wild experiments that will save future generations from inappropriate laughter — and from problematic posteriors.
A few years back, a few folks in white coats announced that they had isolated the gene that causes big-bottomed sheep. Cheering their discovery, the geneticists said this would help in their ongoing quest to fix the disorder that predestines some of us to waddle around life with an overly enthusiastic rear guard.
I’m telling you, whenever I’m down, I can always count on weird science to cheer me up.
I read about biochemistry researchers who injected cancerous mice with copperhead snake venom. This resulted in a 60 to 70 percent reduction in the growth rate of tumors and a 90 percent reduction in the spread of tumors to other parts of the body.
How’d they think of that? My guess is scientists are kids who never grew up.
“I’m bored, Dr. Aldrich.”
“Here’s a thought, Dr. Veeblehoffer, let’s catch a batch of deadly copperheads, milk their poison and inject it into those sick mice over there to see if it makes them feel better.”
“That makes absolutely no sense, Dr. Veeblehoffer! It’s insane. How soon can we start?”
In the 1990s, an Egyptian scientist spent a year dressing male rats in pants and letting them try their luck with the lady rats. The results: rats clad in cotton or wool had a much better chance to, uh, find favor with the femmes than those dressed in polyester or a poly-cotton blend.
I’m not sure what the human application is but I may have a clue about why I spent so much of the 1970s without a date.
Also, I can’t help but think how much trouble I would have been in as a kid had I rounded up a bunch of rats and dressed them in my sister’s doll clothes and sent them on dates. But it seems that if you’re a scientist, you can pull off any kooky stunt that you want, call it an experiment and get paid to do it.
At least I can understand the reasoning when another group of researchers came up with a plan of injecting stroke victims with vampire bat saliva. The bat spit includes a clot-dissolving substance that makes the victims’ blood flow easily.
Science already has proved that dog saliva contains healing agents, so we were right as kids to let our puppies lick our knees every time we scraped them.
I want to apply for a big, fat research grant to study tortoise spit.
Think about it. The Galapagos tortoise is slow moving to the point of looking lazy and carefree, it spends much of its day relaxing in the sun, it weighs in at about 600 pounds AND they live for 150 to 200 years.
What if tortoise spit would allow us to laze around all day, packing on the weight, yet live long, healthy lives? Is it possible that a tortoise literally could kiss treadmills and diets into extinction?
This doesn’t mean we should dismiss the idea of testing tortoise spit. Scientists have come up with crazier ideas.
In 1995, researchers at NASA — yep, the same group exploring outer space — experimented with spaced-out spiders. They jazzed up arachnids on trippy substances such as marijuana, amphetamines and caffeine.
The spideys on wacky weed lost interest about halfway through spinning their webs, the amped-up guys spun with enthusiasm and speed but without much rhyme or reason, and the caffeinated critters cooked up webs that looked like something a 3-year-old would draw after eating six bowls of Super Sugar Flakes — but they stayed awake while doing whatever it was.
It’s a weird world out there. But maybe, just maybe, by doing something nutty, you can save the world. Or get your jeans to fit.
Bring on the tortoises.
Suggest scientific experiments to Burt at burton.w.cole@gmail.com or on the Burton W. Cole page on Facebook.