There are no holidays in the pursuit of knowledge. The true Man of Science knows that he can never rest, never take his ease, never let the pursuit wane, for knowledge is like the elusive ivory-billed woodpecker, or the shy lynx, or the sorority girl with only half-a-beer in her system—one must be relentless in the chase or one’s prey will slip through one’s fingers like summer sweat.
Little do the unwashed millions of non-scientists know that as they sit with rolls of fat poking through the weave gaps in their lawn-chairs, and as they stumble to the port-a-potty to relieve their beer distended bladders, and as they “ooh” and “aah” and ogle monkey-like the fireworks exploding above them; little do the mealy-minded masses know that as they unpack coolers and argue the rules of badminton, the dedicated Man of Science works tirelessly for the improvement of their lives.
For who else will stand before the great night, his razor-like mind keeping the darkness at bay? Who else will shine the light of reason into the superstition befouled minds of America, curing the terrors of sloppy thinking? Who but the Man of Science will spend his 4th of July taking pictures of the developing gill arches of Catostomus commersoni—the white suckerfish?
He does this for knowledge. He does this for truth. He does this for YOU my fellow Americans.
He does this because his advisor will kick his ass if he hasn’t made progress in collecting his data when she returns from vacation tomorrow.
