smallbanner.gif (1847 bytes)
September 10, 1998: The Year in Review

Mad scientists seek only acceptance, world domination

CAMBRIDGE — In a city renowned for higher education and intellectualism, residents here pride themselves on their liberalism, open-mindedness, and rationality. Yet, even in Cambridge, one group remains unjustly shunned and forced into hiding: mad scientists.

Signs of their existence are everywhere: an exhumed grave, strange noises in abandoned warehouses late at night, giant robots storming Harvard Square and wreaking destruction. Yet we choose to ignore them — look the other way — and go about our business.

Professor Theophrastus Malaise, president of the Cambridge Mad Science Organization (CMSO), met with the Weekly Week to discuss the challenges and opportunities of the modern mad scientist.

"We receive no scholarships, no grant money," said Malaise. "Our work goes unrecognized by the Nobel committee, while they reward people yearly for chemistry, biology, and even world peace. Bah! What good is peace when man has not yet conquered dimensional travel? But I digress …"

As he warms to his favorite subject, Malaise’s eyes glint with a feverish mania that only lends credence to his words.

"Mainstream science has managed to marginalize us for quite some time. The only trade journal we have is Genius!, a quarterly publication edited by Dr. Zoron and his vat-grown staff of shriveled beast-men. And, confidentially, Dr. Zoron is a fool and a fraud. He stole all his ideas from me, and for that I shall destroy him once my Antimatter Beam is perfected."

Prof. Malaise paused to laugh a deep, hearty, maniacal laugh, then continued.

"The irony is, much as mainstream science would like to forget us, mad science has made great strides in the past few years," said Malaise. "Just last May, Professor Omicron broke the previous matter-transference record by transporting his head across the room into a block of cement. Tragic, yes. But more importantly, brilliant! And the field of putting human brains in robot bodies has advanced by leaps and bounds.

"Cold fusion? Fried dough? Nickelodeon’s ‘Smell My Gak’? Sporks? All products of mad science," continued Malaise. "No normal person could have conceived of combining the spoon and fork."

Speaking by videophone from his secret underwater base off the Massachusetts coast, noted mad scientist Dr. Wolfing Kospelius agreed.

"Mad science is alive and well, even while the masses are spoon-fed ridiculous notions of a heliocentric universe, a solid earth, a single moon... Only one moon? Are they insane?"

Dr. Kospelius was then hit by a beam from the sky, which deliquesced him into a screaming puddle of protoplasm.

Despite mad scientists’ difficult past, Malaise is cheerful about the industry’s future. "We’ve been through a lot, but the worst is behind us, I think. I’m very optimistic." As he trails off into silence, gazing dementedly into the night, no doubt contemplating what new perversion of nature to unleash on an unsuspecting world, it is hard not to share his enthusiasm.

"They laughed at us in the Academy," he reflects. "They threw us out of the Institute. But eventually, one day, we will show them. I have invented a more portable form of wind; I was the first person to conceive of a car that claps. We will show them all who is mad and who can fly with the help of an electric table of flight!"

As the interview came to a close, Prof. Malaise proclaimed, "Earth will see our might!" He then screamed, "No! How did you escape from your cell? Dear God! Aiiiiiiieeeee!" as a shambling monstrosity entered the room and ate him.

lowernav.gif (10023 bytes)