January 8, 2007 - Monday

January 8, 2007 - Monday
after proofreading a friend's research paper
Dear Dr. Neurosurgeon Man,

You sick, depraved fuck. I have read your so-called 'scientific research paper' and can only say that I am aghast at your thinly veiled world-domination scheme. It is clear from the outset of your condescending article that your aim is nefarious and has little to do with "…offering potential therapy for patients with stroke and spinal control injury…" You state without remorse and hard shame that "Implantable arrays of micro-electrodes have been used as brain-computer interface devices in primates and more recently, humans…" I am no fool you creep. The document is little more than long-winded techno-jabber to describe a process by which you have created remote-controlled monkeys.

You mention humans. Is it not bad enough having a monkey-army at your disposal deep in the laboratorial bowels of McGill University? You hope to do the same with humans? You are a truly evil bastard. You have finally crossed the line from raised eyebrows at your insane activities, to the kind of agape loathing and horror one might experience from watching the mutilations and mass machete-murders (say that ten times fast you cretin) during those bloody Rwandan genocide years. You must be stopped, and clearly, I must be the one to do it.

All this, of course, raises the stakes in terms of how quickly you must be put down. It is one thing to have an army of remote-controlled monkeys. They will not pose much of a threat to the national guard; simply releasing a pack of starving dingoes on the electronically-enhanced primate horde should do the trick. However, the horrific vision of innocent civilians forced to beat off the remaining crazed monkeys with handbags and golf clubs pales in comparison to the awful scene if you actually arm the little bastards.

Are you surprised that I figured out that you were going to provide them with weaponry? Let me tell you that although there is much I do not understand in the document (which I have stolen from your evil computer at great peril to my life), I do understand the implications of repeatedly mentioning "firing rate" and "spikes". One can only imagine that you intend on arming your cyber-monkeys with spike-launchers. Good God you raving lunatic, have you lost your last breath of humanity? Simply arming them with AK-47s, Berrettas, or even flame-throwers would have at least promised a quicker and more merciful murder. Giving the little fuckers spike-launchers suggests a level of sick depravity not seen since Genghis Kahn or Richard Simmons.

But there is a small glimmer of hope:

Your document states that you are using Macaca Mulatta to do your malevolent bidding. Ha! This will be your undoing. I have done extensive research into the nature of these particular monkeys and have found their weakness: aside from unscrupulous and ill-timed bursts of vigorous masturbation, these particular monkeys go into a clueless, trance-like state when listening to 'Folsom Prison Blues'.

That being said, I have organized my own army of single mothers, folk guitarists, and cheetahs on mescaline that have vowed to face down your monkey-army. Our plan is simple; we will play Johnny Cash over strategically placed loudspeakers at top volume to disorient the beasts. When any members of the cyber-crazed monkey-militia pause to whack-off amidst their murderous carnage we will mace them in the eyeballs and then beat them like piñatas. The buildings will ring with The Man in Black's crooning, and the streets will run red with monkey-blood.

We can be just as ruthless and crazed as you are. We will root out every last one of your remote-controlled monkeys and liquidate them with the kind of wanton remorselessness you can expect from coffee-house poetry readers. We are a charged, brutal bunch that will stop at nothing to protect humanity and end the scourge you plan to release.

The gauntlet has been thrown my friend. The dirtiest and most depraved of wars is on your doorstep if you stay the present course.