Earth

Science: It's Not an Exact Science

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Last week science made a wild ass guess about how many things exist and we were just supposed to let that shit slide…

What the shit is that and why did we want to discover it!?
What the shit is that and why did we want to discover it!?

A paper published last week by the scientific journal PLoS Biology, which is a complete fucking guess, says that there are 8.7 million species on Earth. Of which, they completely make up that there are about 7.77 million species of animal, probably 298,000 of plants, give or take, more or less your guess is as good as mine 611,000 fungi, who the fuck knows 36,400 protozoa and completely made up 27,500 chromists. Of course, only seven percent of those fungi, 12 percent of the animals and 72 percent of plants have actually been identified, but why the fuck not just say that there’s so many fucking more?

Now obviously, there’s a shit ton of things crawling around on this out of control mud ball, flying around at fantastical speeds through the vast voidiness, but only we, only humanity, has the arrogance to think that they can just throw out a number with little to no basis in reality and say “Shit yeah, that’s what is. AH GOTS THUMBS, MUTHA!”

Apparently before this new and improved absolute total of all that there is, the previous estimates by other completely guessing sciencemans has ranged from 3 million to 100 million. So why then is this guesstimate any more legit than the 100 million number? Why do these fellahs get to say that “86 percent of all terrestrial species and 91 percent of all marine species have yet to be discovered, described and catalogued” and they get to be treated with any more respect or seriousness than the guy at the bus stop screaming about how he just discovered a new race of invisible mites living in his toes?

If you answered anything other than “Butterflies stole my meatloaf!” while hitting yourself in the thighs with paper plates, you’re wrong.

So I’ve decided I’m going to beat science at it’s own insane game: wildly speculating about shit you can’t even begin to know and calling it science!

Painstakingly researched and documented wild guess number one: there are more than sixty hundred trillion batrillion microscopic road warriors living in our intestines, battling infectious disease which keeps us from being eaten alive by the hostile surroundings of Earth’s atmosphere. It is only after the last of these wild, post apocalyptic survivors, invisible to the naked eye, is killed by the forces of this otherwise inhospitable planet, that we finally die.

Carefully examined and documented complete bullshit made up fact B: When we die, a series of small explosions are triggered inside our cardio vascular system which trap our collected demons, keeping them from escaping into into your attending physician and taking over the physical realm. These tiny “vein bombs” are implanted in each of us by Jesus himself, immediately before we are born.

Sober, reasoned, completely ridiculous insanity that I’m presenting as truth Sigma: There are as many as 188 quadrillion or as few as 9 flavors of pudding still completely undiscovered by man.

The Battle of Hip Joint Canyon...
The Battle of Hip Joint Canyon…

There, I’ve just published a paper in the VFoC Journal of Sciencesque Factish Foundings. And my body is completely hollow and inhabited by a race of intangible plastic army men who have been locked in combat with the robots in my leg for what they perceive as six thousand years, with nary a resolution in sight!

And that’s entirely as plausible as almost anything else that these “respected” sciencers get paid to crap out.

Science: It’s Not an Exact Science

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Last week science made a wild ass guess about how many things exist and we were just supposed to let that shit slide…

What the shit is that and why did we want to discover it!?
What the shit is that and why did we want to discover it!?

A paper published last week by the scientific journal PLoS Biology, which is a complete fucking guess, says that there are 8.7 million species on Earth. Of which, they completely make up that there are about 7.77 million species of animal, probably 298,000 of plants, give or take, more or less your guess is as good as mine 611,000 fungi, who the fuck knows 36,400 protozoa and completely made up 27,500 chromists. Of course, only seven percent of those fungi, 12 percent of the animals and 72 percent of plants have actually been identified, but why the fuck not just say that there’s so many fucking more?

Now obviously, there’s a shit ton of things crawling around on this out of control mud ball, flying around at fantastical speeds through the vast voidiness, but only we, only humanity, has the arrogance to think that they can just throw out a number with little to no basis in reality and say “Shit yeah, that’s what is. AH GOTS THUMBS, MUTHA!”

Apparently before this new and improved absolute total of all that there is, the previous estimates by other completely guessing sciencemans has ranged from 3 million to 100 million. So why then is this guesstimate any more legit than the 100 million number? Why do these fellahs get to say that “86 percent of all terrestrial species and 91 percent of all marine species have yet to be discovered, described and catalogued” and they get to be treated with any more respect or seriousness than the guy at the bus stop screaming about how he just discovered a new race of invisible mites living in his toes?

If you answered anything other than “Butterflies stole my meatloaf!” while hitting yourself in the thighs with paper plates, you’re wrong.

So I’ve decided I’m going to beat science at it’s own insane game: wildly speculating about shit you can’t even begin to know and calling it science!

Painstakingly researched and documented wild guess number one: there are more than sixty hundred trillion batrillion microscopic road warriors living in our intestines, battling infectious disease which keeps us from being eaten alive by the hostile surroundings of Earth’s atmosphere. It is only after the last of these wild, post apocalyptic survivors, invisible to the naked eye, is killed by the forces of this otherwise inhospitable planet, that we finally die.

Carefully examined and documented complete bullshit made up fact B: When we die, a series of small explosions are triggered inside our cardio vascular system which trap our collected demons, keeping them from escaping into into your attending physician and taking over the physical realm. These tiny “vein bombs” are implanted in each of us by Jesus himself, immediately before we are born.

Sober, reasoned, completely ridiculous insanity that I’m presenting as truth Sigma: There are as many as 188 quadrillion or as few as 9 flavors of pudding still completely undiscovered by man. 

The Battle of Hip Joint Canyon...
The Battle of Hip Joint Canyon...

There, I’ve just published a paper in the VFoC Journal of Sciencesque Factish Foundings. And my body is completely hollow and inhabited by a race of intangible plastic army men who have been locked in combat with the robots in my leg for what they perceive as six thousand years, with nary a resolution in sight!

And that’s entirely as plausible as almost anything else that these “respected” sciencers get paid to crap out.

 

Amy Winehouse: Sobered to Death!

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What is the only thing more dangerous than washing down a quart of vodka with a gallon of gin? NOT doing that exact thing.

Fully topped off with "Star Fuel" and ready to rock it out!
Fully topped off with "Star Fuel" and ready to rock it out!

Amy Winehouse, VOICE of a TENTH of a generation and general pile of human mess, did not die as a result of the excesses of a lifestyle that made her biggest hit so ironic and adorable. She was MURDERED by SOBRIETY! CAPITAL LETTERS EXCLAMATION POINT!

According to “family sources” the shock to her body of not being pickled in delicious alcoholic beverages was just too much for it to bear, and after sucking every possible drop of life giving booze from every tissue in what was left of her musculature, her addled frame simply seized, unable to handle being separated from the only form of liquid inside it and tragically took the life of our precious, precious flower. To try to give you an example of what to compare this to, just imagine a car without oil, a Hybrid without hippie urine, or a Sheen not filled with Tigers,

You see, the family is saying that despite reports of Amy indulging in a 72 hour drink-a-thon prior to her “surprising” death, that the real reason for her demise is that she’s a stupid fuck. Their words, not mine. See she was supposedly instructed to gradually decrease her alcohol intake from “Norse Myth” levels to “Roman Orgy” levels and so on down the drunken scale, to carefully reduce the levels of fun in her body. And the woman that said “No, no, no.” to previous offers of assistance (according to FAMILY MEMBERS) told medical professionals that it’s all of nothing. She either never stops drinking or she never stops never drinking. And her family’s well reasoned hypothesis is that the sudden halt of personality swallows was too much of a shock to a self ravaged system.

And really, their “logic” is hard to argue. Alcohol is, after all, one of the essential building blocks of life. The human celebrity is composed of 62% alcohol, with the remaining 38% comprised of mainly amphetamines, opiates, cannabis and an over inflated sense of self worth and misguided feeling of invincibility. Exact amounts vary on a case by case basis. So asking a celebriwreck to abstain from alcoholic consumption, is tantamount to telling the Earth to go fuck it’s oceans. And then where would this fine planet of ours be? A shriveled, brown, husk of it’s former glory. Just like Amy Winehouse.

Satellite photograph of Mrs. Winehouse hours before her time of death...
Satellite photograph of Mrs. Winehouse hours before her time of death...

Now again, just to be perfectly clear, that’s not ME saying that; that’s “family sources”. I would never say such things, because I’m mostly not a lunatic. But I’m also not an alcohol doctor, so I don’t know, it may be entirely possible that suddenly stopping killing yourself could kill yourself. I’m not qualified to say one way or the other. The same way I’m not qualified to say that Amy Winehouse was a liquor fueled zombie who cruelly had her life source yanked away from her by “professionals” and “people who cared for her well being”, causing her to dry up like a neglected tin man, before falling over, shattering into a cloud of crusty, dehydrated slivers and being blown away on the breeze like a Spider-Man villain. That’s not for me to say, that’s for HER OWN FAMILY (according to a “source”) to say, which they have, in not so many words…

So what have we learned then from this brave, flimsy song drinker? Hmm? Well, we’ve learned that if you have flushed your system of all vital fluids and replaced them with 300 proof drinky fun times, apparently it’s better to quit gradually, allowing your body the opportunity to replenish your juices as the fermented happy liquids fighting the endless struggle of keeping you upright while simultaneously trying to knock you down, are being drained.

Secondly, if you have a family who in interview after interview kept telling who ever would ask them “It’s not a matter of if she’s going to die young and tragically, but when. If only there were something that I could do, because I apparently care ever so much, but alas, there isn’t.” and you expect them to have any sort of rational reaction to the “sudden” and “unexpected” news of their relative passing, then you’re going to wind up with them blaming not being shot with bullets as the most likely cause of sudden acute deadness.

And third, and I think most importantly: as long as you keep drinking, you will never die. So pour me another glass of immortality juice and let’s party like if we ever stop it’ll kill us!