Urban recreational science.

You win some, and you lose some when you pursue
pure science with elan and verve (I always like
to say that sort of thing anyway.)


I took note of Gentle Tenant's concerns over his
clients that were uttering unpleasant sounds while
they were being attended to by the Tenant. That
reminds me of my experiments in neurology during
the early days of my Recreational Psychiatry (TM)
unit's forays into pure science.

With my typical enthusiasm, I found that I was
losing a lot of my scientific "volunteers" while I
sought to cut the nerves that support speech by
the clever (and artistic) thrust of an ice pick.

Of course the sight of the death spasms of my
volunteers drew much good-natured laughter from my
staff, and I often joined in with the happy mood
when I was not being splashed with spurting blood
from a burst artery.

But that is how pure science advances my friends.
And what would we do without the willing or
unwilling bodies of those who "volunteer" their
flesh for the greater good?

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