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Butthead Scientists
by Christian Cabanilla
Well, it seems that the war in Iraq has pretty much come to a close. I’m sure you’re all as relieved as I am that our president can now safely return his mind to domestic issues, like our little fuel burden. In his State of the Union Address earlier this year, Bush brought to our attention the notion of building a car that ran only on hydrogen. The president said that it might be possible for children being born today to drive a hydrogen-fueled car when they turn 16. I must say, I was excited at the possibility. But, the more I thought about it, the more I knew we were being gypped.
Fifteen, yes, 15 years ago, the movie Back to the Future II was released in movie theaters across this great nation. The movie was greeted with much acclaim since its predecessor, Back to the Future, was a major box office draw in 1985. The indefinable appeal of crazy Libyans and Biff Tannon brought crowds back II the theaters again.
Except, for Back to the Future II, the lure wasn’t classic lines like, “milk………chocolate”. What fascinated the viewers this time around was the array of technology that Robert Zemekis displayed from the world of the future. Most notable, was the feature car, a Delorian that ran on garbage and was able to fly. In fact all of the cars in the future Hill Valley flew around. Fifteen years ago this movie came out! I think we can all now agree that we are a little bit behind. And for that you can thank those butthead scientists.
I guess I can understand how these scientists could have overlooked the possibility of flying cars that ran on trash, if there was not a major motion picture dealing with this exact dilemma. But how did they miss it? Even scientists have to procreate, and I’m sure at least a few of their offspring would have mentioned the movie. It was a sensation with the younger crowd.
Look at one of the main characters, DR. Emmit Brown. This man was practically a god to any scientist at the time. What other scientist could pick up a babe in the 1800’s by talking about Jules Verne? It gave hope to every scientist that, one day, they too could escape their agonizing existence of test tubes and Cinemax porn and pick up an historical woman. At least one or two lonely scientists had to have ventured to the theatre in order to see this movie and vicariously live out their fantasy.
Furthermore, the blueprint for the car was right there in front of them. There were many scenes included in the movie, in which the functions of the car were explicitly demonstrated–the tires folded up, produced a short flame; ignition boosters kicked in on the back, and the car gently lifted away. Easy as 1-2-3.
Even the logistics of the engine were spelled out in one scene when Dr. Brown puts a banana peel, some beer and its can into the MR. FUSION fuel cell. Fusion. Fu-sion. It certainly would take a real butthead not to get that one.
It’s not just the car either. I can live without a floating car (though I strongly believe I shouldn’t have to, especially with the abundance of trash on the street). The real question is, can I live without a hydrating oven that expands Pizza Hut pizza to eight times its frozen size? I don’t mean to be fickle, but this is something that would genuinely improve my life, more than another tax cut. Even the future Marty McFly Jr. commented, “Gee ma, you sure know how to hydrate a pizza.”
Yet, I will never enjoy the luxury of a hydrated pizza because of our numbnut scientists. And I guess I can cross out auto-drying shirts, self-tying Nike shoes, adaptive mobile trash cans, fingerprint key entry, voice activated remote control and the Cubs ever winning the World Series, as well. Who needs that kind of extremely useful and life-altering technology–we’ve got the hydrogen cars within the next 20 years!
I sometimes wish that I had never heard the State of the Union Address because now I get the feeling that I am living in an alternate 2003. Somewhere along the space-time continuum there was a skew, and I was left here in 2003 prime with Biff Tannon as president. And these butthead scientists all work in his casino. How the hell did we lose the goddamn Sports Almanac 1955-2001?
In the end of Back to the Future II, Marty McFly manages to escape the ravages of the alternate 1985 (he was nearly shot by Principal Strickland) and makes his way back to reclaim the sports almanac in good ol’ 1955. Yet, since our butthead scientists have left us stranded without time machines, much less floating cars or pizza hydrators, I guess we just have to stick it out.
And as far as I’m concerned, hydrogen fueled cars are trash because trash is what should be fueling them. They are about as good as a screen door on a battleship. So I say to all those scientists, shame on you. You may have gotten Biff out of waxing the car to go up to the lake, but now we are left with this meager existence. What a bunch of buttheads.
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