Do You Believe in Mutation Magic?

An [unmetered] parody of "Do You Believe in Magic."

Do you believe in magic in a young cell’s heart?
Phyletic gradualism or punctuated equilibrium, whichever it starts,
And it's magic, if the mutation is groovy,
It makes you feel happy like a PBS documentary,
I'll tell you about the magic, and it'll free your soul,
Just know that spontaneous balanced polymorphism is the goal.

If you believe in magic, no need to research,
Just go and read 200 year old books from the experts,
No need for evidence, we’ll find it eventually,
All the missing links, mutations, and random anomalies,
Don’t bother looking, you’ll never pragmatically find,
How we got here, it’ll just hurt your mind.

If you believe in magic, come along with me,
We'll write lots of unsubstantiated hypothesis,
And maybe, if lazy be our foes,
We will sneak in some lies about embryos,
Just get some guy with a really long name,
To pen some long papers, no one will think he’s insane,
To think the magic's in the mutation’s and the mutation’s in me.

Yeah, do you believe in magic,
Yeah, believe in the magic of a young cell's soul,
Believe in the magic of divergent, convergent, parallel and coevolution,
Believe in the magic that can set you free,
Ohh, talking 'bout magic,

Do you believe like I believe Do you believe in magic
Do you believe like I believe Do you believe, believer
Do you believe like I believe Do you believe in magic
[Fade]

Life Tip #87

Do not attempt to smuggle turtles into the United States.

If you must smuggle turtles into the United States, do not work for the US Border Patrol.

If you must smuggle turtles into the United States while working for the Border Patrol, do not label the box "scorpions."

The sticky spot on the library keyboard

I just arrived at the library. There's a crazy new rule that we have to slide our identification cards to get in the door, so I had to pull out my wallet at the entrance. That was a hassle. What is even more of a hassle is trying to replace the wallet comfortably in my back pocket before I sit down. I don't like sitting on an obliquely situated wallet; it's so uncomfortable and I worry about the long term health implications such laziness could have on my my back. My pants don't help the situation. They are four-pocket Levis—the perfect pants for proper wallet fitting, right?—except this pair is one of those loose-fit styles with a slightly lowered crotch for easier movement. It's comfy, but the wallet housing situation is suspect because the pockets are so large that the seams don't fit snugly against the leather of the wallet. It's really awkward. I'd considered passing up the pair at the store because of this obvious deficiency, but they were on sale and I was poor and my date the night before hadn't gone well. So I bought the pair and now I was struggling with my wallet as I entered the library.

I was still reflecting on my sub-par date and considering what I could have done differently, if there were other reasons she never called me back, and whether she was waiting for me to call when I arrived at the computer concourse in the center of the library.

They say you don't select your library computer; your computer chooses you. I tried to choose my own computer once: I marched confidently to a terminal and sat down to start working, but the system started beeping at me like a smoke detector with a low battery. I fussed with it for a few minutes, pushed on the power button several times, fiddled with the wiring and was just removing the motherboard for an amateur evaluation and no-charge repair attempt when the librarian came up behind me and asked me to leave.

I don't think that computer chose anyone ever again.

Today, I kept my eyes open as I scanned the concourse. Heads moved up and down in front of computer screens recalling the first time I ever bobbed for apples.

90% of the computers were logged into Facebook. Students perused each other's profiles with the same intensity they ought to have devoted to their course materials. One girl had an intense expression as she stared at a photo of a guy and girl positioned in a way that provoked romantic thoughts. She wasn't happy, so I wagered it was an ex-lover with his current flame and she was suffering through a bout of post break-up jealousy. I thought about introducing myself, but noticed the librarian's wary eye and thought better of it. Five percent of the computers showed footage from Hulu. The remaining 5% of the terminals were unused.

I marched directly toward terminal L117, on which someone had installed Flash in order to play music from Pandora. I turned on the monitor and set my fingers on the keyboard to enter my key-pass. That's when I felt something sticky between the F and the G keys. I didn't look, but tapped the spot a few times to determine its texture. It was gooey. Then I looked and immediately regretted having tapped it.

Stickiness is the most disgusting of all the tensile sensations. It is more eerie than pressure or wind and has more staying power than heat or cold. Whenever you feel something sticky, you know that you will keep on feeling it for a while. That's why I hate cleaning the sink; all it takes is one three-day old piece of pasta to ruin an afternoon.

The spot between F and G looked like a partially masticated piece of cereal that had been settling in for a week. It had just enough form that I could tell its origin and was covered in a light green powder and oozed after my touch. It smelled, too, a little.

Ew! I thought.

I hesitated, pondering whether to be embarrassed because I'd been had by a piece of cereal or altruistic and try to remove it for the next person. Then I made up my mind. I picked up my backpack and marched to another terminal, leaving L117 for another unsuspecting soul.

As I logged in at L108, I wondered how many other people had made that same decision.

Etiquette Monday: How to Avoid Paying for a Date

Let's face it: your association with this blog doesn't speak well to your ability to be the life of the party. Do people tend to look at you weird? Do you often wish you could smooth-talk someone into doing what you wanted? Are you often making embarrassing mistakes?

If you answered yes to any of those questions (and even if you didn't), you stand to benefit from the next few week's worth of Mondays. That's right, kids. Today, we begin Etiquette Monday. Let's start with one of the most important topics known to man: How to Avoid Paying for a Date.

If You're a Girl

Bat your eyelashes at your date and compliment him on being such a gentleman.

If You're a Boy

Well then. Things get complicated. Let's dig in.

Choosing a Restaurant

Restaurants that are well prepared to deal with dine-and-dashers are poor choices for a date. How do you spot these bistros? If they have security guards, a maitre d' with a tie, or any of the cooks have tattoos. Also, Denny's is a terrible choice.

Fast food restaurants don't serve you until you've paid. Never ever try a stunt there. You'll end up looking stupid at best.

Your best bet is to find a middle-of-the-road joint (somewhere between Baker's Square and Applebee's) that trusts its customers but won't go bankrupt if you can't shoulder the bill. Most such places smell classy enough that your date will be at least somewhat impressed.

Parking

Park away from the restaurant, but not too far away. Do not park in a position easily visible from within. Best case: park it around back where the employees park (provided they have a rear exit to the parking lot). If you have no other options, park on a side street. Visualize an escape route as you walk to the restaurant.

Finding a Table

The two things to stay away from are the restrooms and exits. If the restaurant has multiple exits, sit further away from the rear ones (which are more tactically useful). Try to find a table with a blocked line of sight; one which makes it impossible to clearly see anything. At the very least, claim the table with the best view of the doors so your date will have her back to them. Best case: dining on a rear patio, a casino buffet, or in a basement.

If you're being seated and you know where you want to sit, tell the maitre d' that such and such table has special meaning to you and you'd like to sit there again. They will usually accommodate.

The Old School Dine and Dash

Many people attempt the big double D but not many can pull it off correctly, often because they don't have the patience. It requires coordination and teamwork and is pretty risky, but it can be a great bonding experience with your date as opposed to most of the other tactics here which force her to pay.

Here's how it's done:

1) Establish to the waiter that you two are madly in love. Ideas: Order things to split, never stop staring at/touching each other, giggle at what the other person says. This will make you seem absent-minded and endearing while still slightly annoying the waiter so he won't miss you much.
2) Be nice to the waiter. This will prevent him from getting really really mad when you're gone and going after you.
3) Order big. You want to be able to eat your fill while still leaving lots of food on the table.
4) Wait for the waiter to check up on your table. This usually happens about 5-10 minutes after your food is served. When it is, give him a nearly full cup to refill, all the while staring into your date's eyes. This will establish that you don't need any help from him for awhile. Be sure you still have at least 50% of your food still on your plate.
5) Immediately after the waiter leaves, look at your cell phone as if you're getting a call on vibrate. Stand slowly, looking apologetically at your date, then put the phone to your ear and begin a conversation in very quiet tones as you walk quickly outside (to take the call). Take your date's purse with you. If you walk quickly enough people will assume there is a reason for it.
6) Go to your car and start the engine.
7) One hundred seconds later, your date should open her own cell phone as if to check the time. Then she should roll her eyes and walk quickly out of the restaurant. Because she is without her purse, it will occur to no one that she is leaving for good.
8) Skedaddle.

The choreography of the Old School DD is so well rehearsed and familiar to us FCN boys that we could do it in our sleep. Unfortunately, it's becoming a bit too popular. With dining staff becoming increasingly wary and cynical, new techniques for exiting the restaurant as a couple are arising, most of them involving public/explained exits. A few popular ones:

The New School Dine and Dash

Suddenly grab your date's purse and run out of the building. Have your date chase you, laughing. Never come back.

The Hokie Pokie

Break up with your date, leaving her in tears. Walk out of the building and have her follow you, begging you not to leave her. Never come back.

The Dutch Slide

Have an asthma attack. Recall that you left your inhaler in the car. Lean on your date as she helps you out. Never come back.

The Mambo

Get into a fight with your date. Start shouting at each other; continue until a dining staff person asks you to take it outside. Do so. Never come back.

The Old Friend

Spot an old mutual friend outside. Run out together to greet him, calling his name. Never come back.

The Good Riddance

Find a hair in the food. Scream and yell in shock together as if you're about to make a huge scene, then run from the building. Never come back.

Of course, you will probably find in many cases that your date is unreceptive to ethically questionable behavior. That's perfectly okay. If she wants to pay for the meal, that's her privilege. Here's how to get away from her around check time:

The Star Trek

Go into the bathroom. Hide until you're sure she's given up and gone home.

The Bait and Switch

Go into the bathroom. Text her saying that there was a family emergency and you had to leave. This works best if you arrived at the restaurant in separate cars.

The Ol' Forgot My Wallet Trick

When the check comes, tell your date that you've got it covered. Reach into your back pocket and register surprise. Then check all your other pockets. Wait for your date to ask you what's wrong. Tell her you think you left your wallet in the car. Run out to get it. Never come back.

The Nemo

Get a call on vibrate. Tell her it's from your brother the submarine captain. Take the call outside. Never come back.

The Lost Hero

See an old lady getting mugged outside. Run out to assist her. Never come back.

The Dutch Stag

Get an asthma attack. Tell your date you left your inhaler in your car. Never come back.

The Bus Stop

Be deeply offended and angered by something your date says. Go outside to cool off. Never come back.

The Leprechaun

Find an earing on the ground (that means coming prepared and seeding the carpet when she's not looking). Say that you think it belongs to that old lady who just left. Run out to give it back to her. Never come back.

The Discriminateur

Notice that something is wrong with the food. Go to complain to the kitchen. Never come back.

The Surprise

Tell your date you have a surprise for her, and that she should close her eyes. Never come back.

This is of course an inexhaustive list, but hopefully it's enough to get you thinking along the right lines. Skipping the check means thinking fast, adapting to the situation, and acting totally sincere no matter what. Remember: if you look confident, people won't stop you. The moment a flash of guilt crosses your face you're finished.

Be fast, smooth, and confident, and you'll never have to pay for a date again.

School Colors

My school's colors are orange and black. My female friends tell me that those colors look good together and I think they were chosen because they call to mind our school's mascot, a vicious tiger.

Our school colors are pasted everywhere. Announcements at the registrar's office are posted in gaudy orange, napkins in the student union are dull orange with black paw prints and students regularly make signs out of orange construction paper. With all the orange, I'm sure our campus looks like a sunset or a sunspot from space.

Our bookstore is similarly a sitting advertisement for all things orange. It sells everything in orange (stamped, of course, with our school's logo): shirts, hats, pins, sweats, hoodies and undergarments. There is even a tattoo parlor a mile from campus that sells tiger tats at a discount to students.

I don't mind black - it's a color that any tough male can wear without a second thought - but the orange is not working for me. Actually, it's not working for the blonde girls on campus. They can't wear orange and look good - not really. It's been tried. Several times. It doesn't work.

Blonde girls who are considering my school after high school are put off by the colors. They know they can't wear the colors and give the edge to other colleges because of it. This leaves our campus with a dearth of cute blonde girls. It's terrible.

If you are blonde and are thinking about coming to my school, please note that the bookstore sells a lot of black and grey paraphernalia. You can have school pride and keep your aesthetic pride. You may have to be a little more picky, but you'll be fine.

And if you want me to show you around...email me here.