Brain Farts Brain Fart brain farts brain fart brain-fart brain-farts brainfart brainfarts LEO Louisville Eccentric Observer parody lampoon satire Louisville Kentucky Kevin Gibson kgramone@aol.com  kgramone humor

Brain Farts was a weekly humor column that ran in the Louisville Eccentric Observer (LEO) from mid-2000 until the summer of 2002. It was, well, eccentric. And occasionally satirical. And sardonic. Some liked it, some hated it; some just didn't get it, and that's OK. There were times when I didn't get it either. I've compiled here some of the archives from Brain Farts for the enjoyment of friends, family and anyone else who happens by. I also have written some new Brain Farts, and added some links and other trivialities that you shouldn't be too concerned with.

Unless you're as bored as I am.

My friend Greg recently gave me an article in Seed magazine about mice and asked me to note something very interesting: By doing clinical research on mice for years and years and years, scientists have cured the following diseases and ailments in mice:

• Damage caused by heart attack
• Cancer
• Baldness
• Sickle Cell Disease
• Type 1 Diabetes
• Blindness due to Diabetes
• Parkinson’s Disease
• Multiple Sclerosis
• Early-Stage Alzheimer’s
• Hemophilia Type B
• West Nile Virus
• SARS
• Blindness caused by Leber’s Congenital Amaurosis
• Creutzfeldt-Jakob Disease (not sure what that is, but it sounds terrible)

The articles stated that 85 to 95 percent of all laboratory animals are mice (rendering the generic term “lab rat” a bit misleading), and that more than 6,000 strains of mutant mice are now available from the National Institute of Health, with announcements of breakthroughs announced almost daily. Six thousand? That’s great. No, really.

Here’s my first question: Why are these little beady-eyed bastards still stealing our food and living in our walls? We cure cancer for them and they’re still mooching off us? We cure MS for them and they’re breeding in our crawl spaces? And why are these researchers perhaps a little too fond of mice?

Here’s my next question: Aren’t we creating a super race of mutant mice? Seriously, we’ve even regenerated and grown body parts on these little mini-rats. We’ve cured blindness, so what’s next? X-Ray vision? With all these diseases going by the wayside, is super-mouse strength next? Is this how Mighty Mouse came into existence? Why is Mickey Mouse still such a pussy?

I have other questions.

Will there be a mouse Olympics? Will it be corrupt and steroid-ridden?

If we can cure all these major diseases in mice, why can’t we cure stupidity in George W. Bush?

What will happen to the cheese industry?

Will Warner Bros. and Hannah-Barbera make cartoons about clever, not-bald mutant mice who not only outsmart the cat but also take over the world and bring down the human race like so many bugs in a hotel bathroom?

How big a broom will you need to kill a mutant super-mouse?

What will mousetraps look like? Will they feature armed guards and explosives? Let’s face it, if we haven’t built the perfect trap for ordinary mice, a race of mice that are impervious to all disease will need more than a spring and a dab of peanut butter.

What will children sing about if those three blind mice are suddenly cured?

What if scientists someday cure all these same diseases in Keith Richards? Will he live forever? ’Cause he’s about halfway there already. (And when Keith does die, will all the headlines say “Finally!”?)

Look, maybe I’m overreacting here, but I’m not. I mean, 6,000 types of mutant mice? Living here in the United States? Yeah, you let one of those little shits escape and breed with the common house mouse, and we’ve got a global disaster on our hands. We’ll have to start doing the same experiments and curing diseases in cats so that they can destroy the evil mutant mouse race. Then when the mutant cats try to take over, we’ll have to do the same to dogs to eradicate the mutant kitties. It will escalate from there and pandemonium will reign; the very fabric of the human race will be shredded, and we will all plunge into apocalyptic doom.

Or maybe not. I mean, they’re just mice for chrissakes.

E-mail me at kgramone@aol.com. For some reason, I’m craving cheddar.