I discovered today that I need more scientists in my life. I would think they would make interesting drunks, and when I groped them, they could explain why my behavior is inappropriate from a scientific standpoint. Better living through science, I would say, and I'm not sure, but I bet that scientists do not roll their eyes.
I engage in imaginary dialogues, as is evident from all the ducks. But my imaginary talkalogues with all the chemists and physicists and biologists and biophysicists and biochemists and ornithologists that wander the vast and endless sea of my mindscape in their lab coats and form-fitting sweaters are sadly incomplete. For while I can make up dialogue for ordinary people, like doctors and lawyers and gunnery sergeants, I am not nearly smart enough to speak for a scientist.
/cue the ducks
Me: So, can my response to her be defined as a chemical reaction?
Scientist:
Me: Can objects in motion defy the laws of gravity if alcohol is introduced?
Scientist:
Me: Okay, here's one. There are some one million species in the world.
Scientist: Uh, a little more than that.
Me: So, my question is, why aren’t we seeing new species pop up every day? All I seem to hear about is animals going extinct, which makes no sense since based on history, species should be constantly expanding. Does this mean that we’ve topped out and will eventually return to one single organism?
Scientist: There's an easy explanation for that.
Me: Really? What is it?
Scientist:
Me: Why do I keep falling down?
Scientist:
Me: What is poetry?
Scientist: It's the rearrangement of words for their aesthetic qualities.
Me: Does it get easier?
Scientist: I'm afraid it doesn't. It's always hard. I still carry a calculator, if you catch my meaning.
Me: I don't think we're talking about the same thing.
Scientist: I think we are.
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