Dave Barry Is from Mars and Venus (18 page)

Here is another troubling thought: Bees are not the only smart insects. I have here an item from the November 1995 issue of
Popular Science
, alertly sent in by Frank Schropfer, which states that cockroaches can display intelligent behavior
even when their heads have been removed
. I don’t know about you, but I didn’t even know cockroaches
had
heads. I thought that, as members of what biologists call the “Family of Animals That It Is Morally Okay to Drop an Unabridged Dictionary On,” cockroaches were just icky little brown bodies with legs and feelers sticking out. But it turns out that they do have heads, and according to
Popular Science
, they “can live for several days” without them. But here’s the amazing thing: Researchers have found that cockroaches, when their heads are removed, immediately start performing country-style line dances.

No, seriously,
Popular Science
states that headless cockroaches can, when prompted by electrical shocks,
learn to run a maze
. Without heads! They can learn a maze
in thirty minutes
. I seriously doubt that headless humans could beat that time, although just to be sure we should definitely run some experiments using volunteer Tobacco Institute scientists.

I also think we should find out what, exactly, the researchers do with the cockroach heads. You would definitely want heavy security for those babies. You would NOT want them to fall into the wrong hands.

In conclusion, we see that the issue of insect intelligence is not as simple as we thought it was before we started to think about it. So the next time a mosquito lands on our arm, and we are tempted to whack it, we should pause and remind ourselves that the mosquito is a thinking being just like us; and that, with proper training and encouragement, it might be able not only to count and run mazes, but perhaps also to laugh, to sing, to philosophize, even to write poetry.

And then we should whack it. Because we hate poetry.

T
oday I wish to present further evidence that the scientific community has completely lost its mind.

Exhibit A is an article that appeared recently on the front page of the
New York Times
(motto: “Even We Don’t Read the Whole Thing”). The article concerns a scientist named Dr. Raul J. Cano, who got hold of a bee that died 30 million years ago and was preserved in amber.

Now here is the difference between a scientist and a sane layperson such as yourself: If YOU came across a bee that had been dead for 30 million years, your natural, common-sense reaction would be to stomp on it just in case, then maybe use it as part of a prank involving a salad bar. But that was not Dr. Cano’s scientific reaction. His reaction—and remember, this story comes from the
New York Times
, which never makes anything up—was to extract some really old dead germs from the bee’s stomach AND BRING THEM BACK TO LIFE.

Yes. Does this make ANY sense to you? I mean, don’t we already have ENOUGH live germs in this world, causing disease, B.O., and really implausible movies starring Dustin
Hoffman? Do we laypersons not spend billions of dollars per year on antibiotics, Listerine, Right Guard, and Ty-D-Bol for the specific purpose of KILLING germs?

According to the
Times
, the scientific community is all excited about Dr. Cano’s revived bee-stomach germs. Apparently the scientific community has never seen
The Mummy, Frankenstein, Night of the Living Dead, Bacteria
, or any of the numerous other reputable motion pictures depicting the bad things that inevitably happen when some fool brings a dead organism back to life. You wait: One of these nights, Dr. Cano’s germs are going to escape from their petri dishes and start creeping forward, zombie-like, with their little bacterial arms sticking straight out in front of them, and heaven help the laboratory security guard who stands in their way. (“What’s wrong, Bob?” “I don’t know! I have the weirdest feeling something’s trying to eat my toe!”)

At this point you are saying, “Okay, so this one scientist is perhaps a few ice cubes short of a tray. But he’s probably just an isolated example.”

You wish. I have here another
New York Times
story, sent in by many alert readers, concerning scientists who have figured out how to—get ready—GROW EXTRA EYES ON FLIES. Yes. The story states that, by messing around with genes, the scientists have produced flies with “as many as fourteen eyes apiece” in various locations—”on their wings, on their legs, on the tips of their antennae.”

On behalf of normal humans everywhere, let me just say: Great! Just what we need! Flies that can see EVEN BETTER! As I write these words, I am unwillingly sharing my lunch with a regular, nonimproved fly, which is having no trouble whatsoever seeing well enough to keep an eye on me while it walks around on my peanut-butter sandwich. Whenever
I try to whap it, the fly instantly zooms out of reach, buzzing its wings to communicate, in fly language, the concept of “neener neener.”

Not that it would do me any good to kill it; Dr. Raul J. Cano would probably just bring it back to life.

Speaking of insects, I have here a column from the spring 1995 issue of
American Entomologist
magazine, sent in by alert reader Jackie Simons and written by May Berenbaum, who discusses a University of Illinois entomology professor who has—you are not going to believe this, but I’m going to tell you anyway—”pioneered the design and use of artificial limbs for cockroaches.”

Naturally I had to call this professor, whose name is Fred Delcomyn. He freely admitted to me that he has, indeed, fitted cockroaches with tiny artificial limbs made from toothpicks. He’s trying to figure out exactly how cockroaches move—in stark contrast to us normal, nonscientist, sane people, who would like to figure out exactly how to make cockroaches STOP moving, so we could hit them with hammers.

But here’s the truly alarming thing: Delcomyn, as part of his research, wants to BUILD A ROBOT COCKROACH. In fact, he has already built one that’s a foot and a half long (“not too big, compared to your Florida roaches,” he noted, correctly). But his plan is to build a bigger one, a robot cockroach that will be FOUR FEET LONG.

When will these scientists ever learn? We know what’s going to happen! We’ve seen this movie! Everything will be fine at first, with the robot roach doing exactly what the scientists want it to. But then one night, after the scientists have left the laboratory, there will be a lightning storm, and extra electricity will flow into the roach, and it will COME
TO LIFE ON ITS OWN—FrankenRoach!—and escape and terrorize the community, smashing its way into supermarkets, skittering past terrified screaming shoppers, seizing entire display racks of Hostess Twinkies.

Oh sure, eventually the Army will come up with a way to stop it, possibly by constructing a fifty-foot-tall can of Raid. But do we really want to put ourselves through this? Why must scientists continue to mess with the natural order of things? Why do we need to create giant cockroaches? We already have the O.J. Simpson defense team! If you are as concerned about these issues as I am, I urge you to take action TODAY in the form of doubling your medication dosage. Also, you are welcome to this sandwich.

O
nce again it’s summer vacation time—time to lock up the house, load the kids into the car, fill the tank with gas, then decide which one of the kids you should sell to pay for the gas, because it’s very expensive this year.

Now you’re all set! To guarantee that it’s the “vacation of a lifetime,” I’ve prepared a special itinerary just for you, featuring a set of unique attractions that I swear I am not making up.

You’ll start by driving to …

Marshall County, Indiana
—Here you’ll visit the historic town of Bremen. According to the Marshall County Convention and Tourism Commission brochure, sent to me by alert reader Chris Straight, Bremen’s claim to fame is that “the world’s heaviest man died here.” The brochure offers no details, except to say that while in Bremen, you can “ask about the casket preparation for the world’s heaviest man.” It doesn’t say whom, specifically, you should ask. Your best bet is to just drive into Bremen, honk at the first person you see, roll down your window, and shout: “WHAT ABOUT THE CASKET PREPARATION FOR THE
WORLD’S HEAVIEST MAN?” Then you should drum your fingers impatiently on the steering wheel to indicate you need a quick answer, because you’re in a hurry to get to your next vacation destination….

Macklin, Saskatchewan
—This is located in Canada, which is legally a foreign country, but it’s well worth the trip, because Macklin is the proud home of the world’s largest fiberglass replica of the ankle bone of a horse. This particular one stands 32 feet high, which makes it taller than any fiberglass horse ankle bone you’re going to see in your so-called sophisticated cities such as New York or Paris.

The giant ankle bone, which was brought to my attention by alert reader Marylu Walters, symbolizes a game called “bunnock” (“bones”), in which you try to knock over horse bones by throwing other horse bones at them. According to a brochure put out by the Macklin Bunnock Committee, the game was invented by Russian soldiers in Siberia who “discovered that the ankle bones of a horse could be set up on the frozen ground.” The brochure, speculating on what inspired this discovery, suggests “ingenuity,” “sheer luck,” and “boredom,” although I personally think that another strong candidate would be “vodka.”

Your family is sure to enjoy viewing the giant Macklin bunnock, which looks vaguely like an enormous naked woman with no arms or legs or head. If you’re lucky enough to be in Macklin in August, you might witness the World Championship Bunnock Tournament. But as much fun as it is to watch Canadians throw horse bones, you need to move on to …

Easton, Massachusetts
—This, according to a
Boston Globe
article alertly sent in by Tom Darisse, is the home of the nation’s only Shovel Museum. More than 800 shovels!
The kids will forget all about Disney World! But you’ll have to pry them away, because you’re off to…

Reno, Nevada
—It was here, at the Reno-Sparks sewage treatment plant, where, on February 4, according to a lengthy article in the
Reno Gazette-Journal
sent in by many alert readers, two courageous plant workers used pitchforks to apprehend a “monster grease ball.” The article states that the grease ball, which was clogging a channel leading to the plant, weighed 150 pounds and was “human-sized,” which leads to the obvious question: Was Robert Shapiro reported missing at around that time?

Tragically, the grease ball is not on public display, but you and your family will be able to enjoy a quick picnic near the historic sewage plant before hastening to your final vacation destination….

Fort Collins, Colorado
—Why Fort Collins? I’ll answer that question by quoting verbatim the first paragraph of a story from the February 22
Fort Collins Coloradoan
, written by Dan Haley and alertly sent in by Glenn Gilbert:

“About 200 human gonads are sitting in a freezer at Colorado State University as researchers wait for funding to test them for plutonium.”

I called Colorado State (“Home of the Frozen Gonads”) and spoke with Dr. Shawki Ibrahim, an associate professor in the Department of Radiological Health Sciences. He told me that the gonads were removed during hospital autopsies; researchers want to find out if their plutonium levels correlate with how close their former owners lived to the Rocky Flats nuclear weapons plant. (The researchers need money for this project, so if you’re a wealthy organization, please send them some.)