doctorturvy

Have you noticed how in films noir, the spinsters and lesbians don't fare so well? Too often they suicide in the end. Hanging is popular. Pills make for a less dramatic finish but whatever technique is applied, it's always successfully managed. Blanche remembered to sew rocks into her pockets before jumping into the river, and Thelma made sure to find a sufficiently dramatic canyon for the closing scene.

The gay boys don't fare much better. That loud but adorable character in Independence Day was offed in the first reel, but at least that film has a happier ending than Brokeback Mountain.

Of course this is unfair to all those wonderful fictitious characters. And of course this unfairness has everything to do with mad science.

I mean, think about it: starting with Doctor Frankenstein and ending with Doctor Horrible, we are even more strictly stereotyped and, what's worse, invariably subjected to an inconvenient fate. It's so unfair! No wonder we long for sharks with laser beams strapped to their heads.

Is the mad science worth it, you may ask? Consider the personal injury I feel whenever a political pundit criticizes the Fourier transform algorithms designed for the software used to calibrate the Reagan Memorial Death Ray; the deep sadness that comes over me whenever I see those television ads for the hospital in Louisiana that promises to cure mad scientists through divine consumerism; and worst of all, for me, are the movies that far too often celebrate the demise of one of our kind. Ernst Stavro Blofeld deserved better.

But I have no regrets about my nature. Truth be told, it doesn't matter whether it's worthwhile because, people, it's not a choice. It's in our DNA. Some of us are born with no desire greater than to see a stylish portrait of ourselves above a plaque reading "Mad Scientist." For others, it's the most natural thing in the world to just dink around with weird stuff until it does something interesting. You can't keep our hands off of it!

My personal passion, the thing that keeps mad science in my heart and soul, is the triumphant laugh that accompanies the product demo. That one shining moment makes it all worthwhile. People may not know what it takes to do mad science right... and they may not respect our place in society... but when we press that big red button or pull down the knife switch, no matter what you think of us, you know that you're about to see some impressive juju. And the triumphant laugh, well... deep down, you know you love it.

The product demo is just the beginning of the end of a long spiritual journey. Mostly it's trial and error, and hope for a spark of insight. I am weaned of alarm clocks because the most important part of my day occurs in that little window of meditation between waking up and getting out of bed. I get my best diabolical ideas then. This morning I used the time to reminisce on the various incarnations of my latest little device, and realized it's been well over a year since the first prototype. That was an unwieldy and scary looking thing, back then; I tried to make it look like an octopus for the sake of aesthetic appeal, but it wasn't working out so well. Plus, it had a pull-string instead of a respectable button or handle.

This morning, more than a year later, I continued to make adjustments to the current design. It's fairly streamlined now and has that other-worldly flair of a thing that looks like it does something really impressive, but doesn't look quite like anything you've ever seen before. It looks... almost... like some creature that straddles the wide gap between animal and vegetable.

Before I go on about this morning, I must explain something about mad science: of course, every time we pull that lever, we hold on to the hope that "this time it will work." But usually we just wind up learning the next lesson of which weak spot needs to be shored up, or which particular law of physics unexpectedly swerves into oncoming intentions. So while we remain optimistic, we don't really expect the kind of results you see in the movies. Not without a lot of trouble and suffering.

Today... after making coffee, after tailoring a new rubber part with an X-acto knife, after taking the whole dang thing apart -- yet again -- to try a slightly tighter o-ring, and later taking it apart one more time because I assembled things in the wrong order... I spent a minute just admiring the device because it looked so purposeful and well-designed. But I knew, deep inside, that when I pulled that lever it would likely fly apart yet again. It's like gambling in a casino that really sucks and is run by your x-wife's Uncle Vinny.

So, it's not easy to keep trying. Eventually though, after a minute of running through a mental checklist and finding a nice, philosophical attitude to frame the moment, I let out my breath and gave that lever a squeeze.

And it all just worked.

My evil laugh... it's quite good, actually. Maybe someday it will be in a movie.