On Free Will and Sheep

Every mother, with the possible exception of Joan Crawford, wants the best for their kids.  But sometimes kids have different visions than their parents.  Mothers dream of their sons curing cancer, sons wonder why dogs upchuck apple crisp. My own mother dreamed I would be a lawyer but I spent every day trying to Vulcanize my ears with Dad’s vice grips.

For many mothers, becoming a scientist is an honorable and noble pursuit. So when Charles Roselli professed this objective, his mother couldn’t have been prouder. Her son would be Dr Spock not Mr Spock. 

“Mother?”

Yes son.

“I am studying homosexuality in sheep and I am going to dedicate my life to it.”

What? Charlie stop teasing what are you really going to do? Astronaut? Scientist? Physician?

“Uh no Mom. I am going to wear rubber gloves, apply Burt’s Bees wax to my pinky and gently  massage the irregularly shaped, densely packed cluster of nerve cells in the hypothalamus of the male sheep brain, observe his reaction and try to figure out a way I can alter his sexual response preferences.”

Apparently scientists like Roselli are using government grants for the projects. They hope to discover the root causes of homosexuality in sheep so they can cure the misguided ovis and then apply the technology to human beings.

Thank you science and thank you Dr Roselli. Despots have nuclear devices, the ozone has a hole the size of Texas and Britney has shaved her head but our best minds provide mankind comfort by insuring that Bighorn Mountain Sheep don’t become Bighorny Brokeback Mountain Sheep. Whew, what a relief, I was getting worried that the science community might be frittering away my resources on silly projects like fixing dikes (the kind in New Orleans not San Francisco).

Surely I, a mere voting, tax paying fool, am missing something. This must be a secret  government project designed to address the major causes of mankind’s woes. I once read that 80% of the earth’s methane is  produced by sheep and cows breaking wind (commonly known as “rippers, whoopsies, or bumrumbles”). I can only conclude that this must be a secret research project  conducted so as to develop new resources for combustible methane which will in turn run planes, trains and automobiles.

So I guess I should be thanking Charles Roselli and his team for spending my money on a project (did I miss this referendum while in the voting booth?) for saving our supply of methane. You see, Mrs Roselli, be proud of your son for he is conducting research which may solve global warming, end our wars and keep a lot of neglected female sheep from becoming sad and lonely spinsters. Only problem is that methane is the second most important greenhouse gas after carbon dioxide. Maybe there’s a reason for these sheep behaving the way they do. Imagine how much bigger the sheep population might be (about 10%). That’s 10% more offensively unpleasant breezies contributing to the earth’s cozy blanket of greenhouse drapery. Maybe we should just leave Mother Nature alone, unlike Mommy Dearest she seems to know what she’s doing.