* * *

(REPRINTED FROM ISSUE ONE, APRIL 11th, 2005)

- FROM THE ARCHIVE -

Mondo-Genetic-Services is proud to announce its latest venture, “The Bestest, Most Kick Ass, Human Genome Project.” Hot on the tails of the International Human Genome Sequencing Consortium and Celera Genomics, we present to you a novel approach in the elucidation of mankind’s blueprint of life. Rather than using the frequently studied yet boring human cell lines, or samples from a small group of ethnically diverse, anonymous, and likely dull individuals, we propose a completely different strategy – that is, we plan to use the genomes of individuals handpicked by the editorial staff of People magazine, a move we feel will cater to the desires of you and your friends. Currently our impressive roster of prospective subjects include the following:

People’s Choice Favourite Motion Picture Actor – Harrison Ford
How can any human genome project not have samples from the man revered as Han Solo and Indiana Jones? The man who has uttered such immortal words as “Punch it Chewie,” and “Nazi’s – I hate these guys.” In related news, Mondo-Genetic-Services has also tried to recruit his girlfriend Calista Flockhart into the project, but has recently learnt that she simply did not have enough tissue.

People’s Choice Favourite Motion Picture Actress – Sandra Bullock
Mondo-Genetic-Services feels that the inclusion of Ms. Bullock, the purveyor of such classics as Speed 2 and Miss Congeniality, into the Bestest, Most Kick Ass, Human Genome Project is practically self explanatory. Besides, the editorial staff of People magazine all agree that she “is really hot, but in a nice way.”

People’s Choice’s Favourite Performer in a Children’s Television Program – Goofy
Is he a man? Is he a dog? Is he a man-dog? Be one of the first to find out, here at the Bestest, Most Kick Ass, Human Genome Project.

People’s Choice Most Interesting Person of African Descent – Olusegun Obasanjo
Through email correspondence, the editorial staff of People Magazine have finalized an agreement to sequence the DNA of President Obasanjo, of Nigeria. In return and given their capacity to act as an overseas partner in a balance account transfer from the Central Bank of Nigeria, he will place 20% of US$21,320,000.00 (TWENTY ONE MILLION, THREE HUNDRED AND TWENTY THOUSAND U.S DOLLARS) into their corporate accounts.

People’s Choice Most Interesting Person of Asian Descent – Michelle Kwan
Yes, the folks at People magazine are certified KWAN FANS. Michelle has agreed to participate in this project and in return, we will help start up an official Michelle Kwan fan club. More to the point, inclusion of DNA from this outstanding athlete will allow us to finally answer one of life’s most troubling questions – that is, how exactly does figure skating get judged?

People’s Choice Favourite Television Icon – Arthur Fonzarelli
“The Fonz” was a cultural icon of the 1950’s and is certainly deserving of a place in the Bestest, Most Kick Ass, Human Genome Project. Not only did he seem to have telekinetic powers, but this is one guy who must have seen a lot of sex! Since the lubricated condom wasn’t introduced until 1957, and the oral contraceptive wasn’t even invented until the 60s, Mondo-Genetic-Services wouldn’t be surprised if Mr. Fonzarelli himself sired half of Middle America.

People’s Choice Favourite Television Comedy Series – Cast of “Who’s the Boss”
In an attempt to secure DNA sequences that espouse the best of American family virtues, the Bestest, Most Kick Ass, Human Genome Project will obtain tissue samples from the entire cast of “Who’s the Boss.” This will include cells taken from Tony Danza, Judith Light, Katherine Helmond, Alyssa Milano, and even the little boy whose name no one can remember.

People’s Choice Favourite Diety – Jesus:
In a coup d’etat for this project, Mondo-Genetic-Services has secured the sole rights to sequence and publish the Prince of Peace’s very own DNA. Furthermore, our scientists have also discovered that due to the principle of the Holy Trinity, this agreement also effectively grants us sole rights to the genetic code of the Holy Spirit and of God himself

People’s Choice Reader’s Pick – George W. Bush
Because apparently America, like the rest of the world, is wondering “what the hell is up with that?”

- FROM THE ARCHIVES -

January 17, 2005
I received the syllabus for my Humanities course. A humanities course should not be required for my B.Sc degree in Physics. To add insult to injury, we are supposed to do an analysis of Well’s The Time Machine. We are to focus on the historical context when the topic is time travel?
Who reads a book on a time machine for social insights? I would do anything to get out of this essay.
At dinner, my friends complained about this assignment. I tell them a way out: I will build a time machine.
They mocked me, but they will see.

January 18, 2005
9:20 A.M. Building a time machine is harder than I thought. There are all kinds of technical challenges I didn’t anticipate. Frustrated, I decide to make a mix tape with songs like Cher’s If I could Turn Back Time.
Noon. Finished my time machine. The book report is due in a couple of weeks, so I need to get down to business.

January 19, 2005
Watched Groundhog Day. What a great movie.

January 20, 2005
After lunch I get in my time machine and press the lever forward. I don’t know what to expect and am somewhat surprised by the sound emitted which is that of a very large blender. Stranger yet is the smell emitted by my contraption—which is that of cinnamon vanilla.

August 14, 1996
I have successfully transgressed the boundaries of time. I have moved backward in time.
I create an internet company called eToys. If I am rich, I don’t need to stay in school.

February 12, 1997
I’m rich. I have no need to go to school. Returning to the present with no worries about stupid papers on stupid books.

January 20, 2005
I return to the present. My company has flopped. I’m in debt. Must figure out a way to finish book report. Less than a month until it is due!

March 08, 1920
I go to Harvard, to see Professor Santayana, guru of arts and culture and stuff. I tell him my situation, the whole thing.
I ask him if he’ll help me.
He says to me, “Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.”

January 20, 2005
I believe Santayana was trying to give me a suggestion about the significance of Wells. I come up with a couple of ideas. After a good night’s rest I’ll return to Professor Santayana and see what he says.

March 08, 1920
I take my ideas to Santayana.
He says to me, “Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.”
I can see where this is going. I make my way back to the future.

December 16, 2004
Today is the day I signed up for the humanities course.
I try to intercept my past self from taking the humanities course. The lines for registration are painfully long. Unwilling to wait, I decide to not bother.

July 13, 1880
I meet H.G. Wells and try to persuade him he shouldn’t be a writer. H.G. claims he isn’t that interested in writing.
He asks me where I am from and why I am dressed the way I am.
I tell him that I have come from the future.
H.G.: “The future? Say, that is an interesting idea. Someone who can move through time. Speaking of writing,that would make for an interesting book. Don’t you think?”

I return to the present, depressed.

January 21, 2005
I realize I’m doing this all wrong. I should go to the future. Get the book report, I have already written, and than take it back to the past! The present! You know before the due date.

October 26, 2056
Overshot by a bit much.
I am so sick of my mix tape. I was sick of it the first time. But after fifty years? You can understand, if I am a bit on edge.
I assumed that the future would be infinitely more complex. Really is much simpler and I suppose it makes just as much sense to imagine that human society would work to make everything simpler rather than more complex.
The fundamental unit of currency is the ‘Ice Cube.’ I load my pockets with these, as proof of my adventure when I return to 2005, but also because I find them very helpful in cooling off room temperature drinks.

February 28, 2005
I meet my future self, who has already had his book report returned to him. He got a C-, the slacker. That’s good enough for me, though. So, I take my future self’s essay and run.

February 18, 2005
I submit my paper on The Time Machine.

February 28, 2005
My paper is returned to me with a C-. I feel like this doesn’t reflect the amount of effort I have put in. I tell the teacher so.
On the way out of my professor’s office, a young man (handsome, introspective and yet obviously ambitious) steals my book report. It doesn’t really matter since I’ve already received my grade. But it was still a painful reminder of how tough you have to be in this world.

October 3, 802, 701
I call a meeting. I persuade the Eloi and Morlock to live peaceably together. I warn them not to go back to their old ways.
I look at them and say “Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.”

SARAH: Daddy, were you in the shower?

DAD: Yes, I was in the shower.

SARAH: Why?

DAD: I was dirty. The shower gets me clean.

SARAH: Why?

DAD: Why does the shower get me clean?

SARAH: Yes.

DAD: Because the water washes the dirt away when I use soap.

SARAH: Why?

DAD: Why do I use soap?

SARAH: Yes.

DAD: Because the soap grabs the dirt and lets the water wash it off.

SARAH: Why?

DAD: Why does the soap grab the dirt?

SARAH: Yes.

DAD: Because soap is a surfactant.

SARAH: Why?

DAD: Why is soap a surfactant?

SARAH: Yes.

DAD: That is an EXCELLENT question. Soap is a surfactant because it forms water-soluble micelles that trap the otherwise insoluble dirt and oil particles.

SARAH: Why?

DAD: Why does soap form micelles?

SARAH: Yes.

DAD: Soap molecules are long chains with a polar, hydrophilic head and a non-polar, hydrophobic tail. Can you say ‘hydrophilic’?

SARAH: Aidrofawwic

DAD: And can you say ‘hydrophobic’?

SARAH: Aidrofawwic

DAD: Excellent! The word ‘hydrophobic’ means that it avoids water.

SARAH: Why?

DAD: Why does it mean that?

SARAH: Yes.

DAD: It’s Greek! ‘Hydro’ means water and ‘phobic’ means ‘fear of’. ‘Phobos’ is fear. So ‘hydrophobic’ means ‘afraid of water’.

SARAH: Like a monster?

DAD: You mean, like being afraid of a monster?

SARAH: Yes.

DAD: A scary monster, sure. If you were afraid of a monster, a Greek person would say you were gorgophobic.

(pause)

SARAH: (rolls her eyes) I thought we were talking about soap.

DAD: We are talking about soap.

(longish pause)

SARAH: Why?

DAD: Why do the molecules have a hydrophilic head and a hydrophobic tail?

SARAH: Yes.

DAD: Because the C-O bonds in the head are highly polar, and the C-H bonds in the tail are effectively non-polar.

SARAH: Why?

DAD: Because while carbon and hydrogen have almost the same electronegativity, oxygen is far more electronegative, thereby polarizing the C-O bonds.

SARAH: Why?

DAD: Why is oxygen more electronegative than carbon and hydrogen?

SARAH: Yes.

DAD: That’s complicated. There are different answers to that question, depending on whether you’re talking about the Pauling or Mulliken electronegativity scales. The Pauling scale is based on homo- versus heteronuclear bond strength differences, while the Mulliken scale is based on the atomic properties of electron affinity and ionization energy. But it really all comes down to effective nuclear charge. The valence electrons in an oxygen atom have a lower energy than those of a carbon atom, and electrons shared between them are held more tightly to the oxygen, because electrons in an oxygen atom experience a greater nuclear charge and therefore a stronger attraction to the atomic nucleus! Cool, huh?

(pause)

SARAH: I don’t get it.

DAD: That’s OK. Neither do most of my students.

* * *

(REPRINTED FROM ISSUE ONE, APRIL 11th, 2005)

Wut up, tortoise? You think you’re all that ’cause you can swim really well and stuff? Well, sorry to disappoint you, son, but I can swim really well, too. Sucka. I need to wear water wings, on account I’m scared of deep water, but that’s still swimming. So bite me, fool.

Ooo, shark, what big sharp teeth you have! Too bad four out of five dentists think you’re a doophis. Boo-ya!

“Arf! Arf! Look at me: I’m a big fat sea lion! I can wave hello with my big fat flipper and spin a beach ball on my big fat nose. Arf! Arf!” Shoot, you ain’t nothin’—nothing but a seal that needs to lose mad weight. That’s right: you need to go on a diet, boy. I’m on Weight Watchers, chump. I got, like, eleven points left for today, too. Gonna get me a yogurt pop. Jealous? Ha-ha. Loser.

Hold up, octopus: you did not just call me “your bitch” because no way in hell I’m your bitch. I ain’t no invertebrate’s bitch. You’re my bitch, octobitch. That’s right, wut you gonna do about it? Huh? Wut? Wut? I didn’t think so. Pussy.

Hey, catfish, Sylvia Plath called: she wants her depression back. Snap out of it, sad sack. I didn’t pay seventeen bucks to watch some half fish/half cat have a nervous breakdown. Been there, done that, fish.

Yo, hottie cleaning the seal tank: me likes what me see. What you say after you finish scrubbing seal feces off that rock we kick this joint and go dutch on some daiquiris? No? Okay, whatever then. I was just jokin. Shoot, no way I’d go out with you. Think I might be gay, anyway. So later for you!

Penguins suck!

Well, what do we have here? Looks like a lazy-ass starfish. Is it hard work sitting on your lazy ass eating crud off that rock all day long? Shoot, that I ain’t hard. I used to do that all the time back when I was living with my mom. Got my own place now, though. Still get lonely at times, but all in all I’m a lot happier. [Sigh].

* * *

(REPRINTED FROM ISSUE ONE, JUNE 6th, 2005)

- FROM THE ARCHIVE -

Papa Lion (Carl)

First off, that tree we were lying around in the shade by, that wasn’t even our tree. The producers literally brought in that tree and told us it was going to be our new tree. They said our tree—the tree we’ve lay under for years—“didn’t have a river view” and was “a little smaller than what we were looking for.” This was all said to me in front of my kids, I might add. Real class act that Discovery Channel!

Just like any family we like to have our place look clean, so we moved all the twigs and tried to flatten out some nice spots. We worked hard for over three hours, but did any of that stuff make the final cut? No way, José. They just showed me lying by the trunk of the tree resting my back and cleaning myself. We were cleaning and my damn sciatica starting acting up. I can’t be on my feet as much as I used to. Betty knows that. The kids know that. But I come off as some lazy bum who just lies there and yawns all the time. You know, they were telling me to yawn! Do you really think lions yawn that much? Think again, Bub.

Goddamn Hollywood. I didn’t even want to do this from the get go. I knew it would end up like this. Filmmakers and their agendas. I’d rather leave the kids with a poacher than a documentary filmmaker.

Mama Lion (Betty)

Carl is really all bent up about this. He was on us for weeks prior, showing us how to behave and whatnot. I must say, the kids were really good about it—I think they were excited, you know, being on TV and all. Halfway through the shooting Carl knew something was up. The director kept having the kids “play fight,” and that got the kids going and pretty soon Carl was yelling at us all. “We’re a family!” he kept saying. “Now goddamn it, let’s act like one!”

I will say that when they had Carl mount me, like I was his play thing or something, that really got me upset—and I don’t anger easily. That director just kept on saying that they needed some good mating shots and the stuff they were getting was great stuff. That’s all the kept saying, “Oh yeah, great stuff. Really great stuff.” Carl is usually much more of a romancer. And it’s never in front of the kids like that.

Brother Lion (Tommy)

So like, I tell everyone by the grassy plains and everyone by the river that we’re going to be on TV and boy, was that ever a mistake. We all looked like chumps. It’s all in the editing. Sure, I guess I must have chased a couple zebras and gazelles before I caught one, but they just played my missed attempts all in a row—like two weeks worth of chasing—and talked about how sometimes we are unsuccessful. What the eff! Everybody by the river has been on me about that, calling me Wendy and telling me I hunt like girl. And when I did get one, they ran out of film and told me I had to do it again. So that last zebra that you see, they brought that guy in. He was old and slow and it was like, embarrassing chasing him down. I actually didn’t even want to do it. Mama said she actually knew that zebra, they took a ceramics class together or something—but they made me do it. I like it better when it’s just those old Land Rovers piled with wealthy people with hats and scarves on their heads taking pictures and clapping.

Sister Lion (Tiffany)

They took shots of me pooping! Can you believe that? Get a life! I was all the way over by the far shrubs, doing my business—my business!—and I turn and notice everybody right there behind me. One guy who was holding this huge mirror thing, reflecting light on my behind, was giggling. Getting his kicks. Becky and Vanessa say that that is an invasion of privacy and I can get all those guys fired. Becky said that her cousin’s best friend knows this crocodile and she got this guy fired for touching her where she didn’t give him permission to touch.

Those shots of me and Tommy cleaning each other! Fakes! We’re family, we don’t do that stuff. Gross! That was me and Todd Sherman. We were dating, but now Mama won’t let me see him and when I finally snuck off and found him he was all, “I don’t clean girls who poop on camera” and stuff. And those shots of me with like, my whole head in the zebra, they told me they stopped filming and I could dig in. I hadn’t eaten in days. The buffet they had set up was horrible—little sandwiches and salads—I was starving.

- FROM THE ARCHIVES -

1
Went to the mall today. Bought some boxer briefs and an Icee. Stopped into the arcade and lost to some punk kid at Street Fighter II. It’s hard for me to push the buttons at the right time. Shuttle Remote Manipulator Prostheses (SRMP) destroyed Street Fighter machine.

2
Saw a friend’s band play, alone. I wish someone else would have come with me. People don’t always want to talk to the guy with nine hundred pounds of space steel strapped to his body.

Broke the arm of the lead singer when I gave him a high-five.

3
Laid around with my dog and read while it was raining. Flipped through an H.P. Lovecraft collection. He really isn’t so scary, but his characters have a certain lovable horror that makes them endearing. I like that.

Crushed dog with SRMP.

4
Jenny’s pool party was almost fun. Massive robotic prostheses scare most women and children. Accidentally pulled power lines into pool. Three dead.

5
Dropped my coffee mug at the coffee shop. Spilt coffee on SRMP, and short circuited it, starting a small twenty-four hour rampage. Destroyed a city block and beat up old ladies. Also, I set the local orphanage on fire.

6
Finally passed out at the bar watching VH1 around three in the afternoon. Woke-up with half of a burrito lodged between my robotic tendons, and a face full of dry beer. People were around. It was dark outside.

I reached over and put a quarter in the jukebox, forty-five feet away.

(Note that a semblance of this piece was first concieved by Gene over at Utterwonder)

- FROM THE ARCHIVES -

May 8th, 1988

I encounter science for the first time during recess. As my friends and I are busy using the magnifying lens that Billy Stewart had gotten for his eighth birthday to burn some sticks, she breaks off from the pack of girls she usually travels around the schoolyard with to tell me that she likes my shoes. I don’t understand how anyone could possibly dislike my shoes as they are brand new and have little zippered compartments where I have carefully secreted away the coins I will later use to buy myself some Gobstoppers, so I’m a little befuddled as I return to the sticks. Achieving only faint smoke from the wood we foolishly move on to try, using the same techniques, to freeze a small puddle.

September 10th, 1990

As I patiently explain to Todd Walters that his newest scheme to attain flight will probably end disastrously Science approaches. Relations have been cool since the shoe incident and I am surprised that she’s coming my way. Timidly, she asks if I’m going to the lunch hour dance taking place the following day. Rumours abound that Science has been dating an older boy so I am shocked that she seems to be asking me to a dance. I try desperately, and ultimately unsuccessfully, to maintain my cool as I explain that, since I suspect the only tapes that will be played at said dance are by The New Kids on the Block and M.C. Hammer, I will not be going anywhere near the gym. As Science retreats dejectedly I agree with Todd that invisibility on the other hand is totally doable. I learn later that Science and Billy Stewart were seen kissing in a corner of the gymnasium during “Groove is in the heart”. No doubt this is in retribution for my breaking his magnifying glass.

October 22nd, 1993

During Math class Science’s friend Sarah Jensen passes my friend Cam Sparks a note that says, after a lengthy digression paralleling the math teacher’s personal hygiene and his family name, that Science thinks I am cute. I hear about this note later in the library as I am perusing a pop-up book about the human circulatory system that I discovered while searching for a compendium of the 1001 worst sports injuries. I immediately pen a response that is both witty and sweet, asking if Science would like to go steady. After school I walk her home and during a brief pause in her explanation of why, contrary to a popular movie of the day, it would be impossible to clone dinosaurs from a mosquito, I slip my hand into hers.

December 3rd, 1998

I accidentally run into Science in the cafeteria. Ever since we broke up I have been practicing in my dorm room’s mirror what I would say in just such a chance encounter. In these sessions I kept my composure as I listed the reasons, sensible to the last, that I had, during the previous semester, decided to simultaneously transfer into theology and end our relationship of 4 years. Now, I am pathetically trying to mask my sobs with a sudden and illogical case of mid-winter hay-fever; in the face of Science’s composure my reasons sound contrived and immature. Eventually I break down into tears, call my foray into the arts ill-advised and proclaim my everlasting love. Embarrassed by my own overflow of emotion and disappointed by her cold façade I regrettably erupt, calling Science a “heartless bitch”. I apologize immediately blaming the outburst on her absence from my life. It takes months of cajoling but eventually Science, whether out of pity, nostalgia or something else, agrees to take me back on the condition that I transfer back into Chemistry.

May 31st, 2005

My mind wanders from Karl Popper’s The Logic of Scientific Discovery to my impending nuptials. Have I made a huge mistake? Can I really spend the rest of my life with Science? There is no question that I love her, that I’ve always loved her, but sometimes I catch myself gazing wistfully at other girls. Girls who read novels, play the guitar and don’t quantify the beauty of a sunset for ease of comparison. Of course, they don’t seem to care about string theory.

This piece is copyrighted (2004), Chris Ware, and reprinted with permission from McSweeney’s Quarterly Concern Issue 13