Re: that mapmaking mouse (humor)

[Ken Becker <d010421c@xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx>]

Thanks for the great laugh, fortunately I don't have any relatives who
are white, or any color, mice, an uncle is suspected of being somewhat of
a rat...but we just call him the black sheep of the family..none of us
were ever very good at biology! happy New Year!




[OO] LOOKING FOR RADIOS!
Ken Becker
d010421c@xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx


On Sun, 29 Dec 1996, Margaret Hayon wrote:

> >P.S.  KEN, The mouse that could make a map of his brain.....well, he
> >died...Seems that he went the wrong way on a one way street and was run
> >over by a crazed Mass. Driver across the street from his pethouse at
> >M.I.T.. Flushed down the toilet this afternoon at 4:38pm, The moral of this
> >event?   Never,never be envious of a mouse.
> >
> >glussier@xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx   "OH, What A Beautiful Morning"
>
>
> Thought you'd like to know - before his unfortunate demise, that mouse had
> published an article on his life-experiences in the "New Scientist": I have
> copied extracts below
> (full text can be found at <>)
>                 *****************
>
>              Advice To Mice:
>              A Commentary On The Reward and Punishment Game
>              Dominic Recaldin
>
>                         There are alI manner of opportunities for white
>                         mice today.
>                          When I was young, it was either straight into a
>                         petshop, or try to scratch a living off the
>                         corporation rubbish dump. Neither was exactly a
>                         bed of roses.
>
>                         [part omitted]                        And then
>                         science came, and life changed almost overnight.
>                         After generations of persecution, white mice were
>                         suddenly "in." Scientific research changed us from
>                         being the most untouchable into the most hutchable
>                         animals in the history of Man.
>
>                         The boom began, I suppose, with medical research.
>      Scientific         This is still a tremendous career outlet these
>      research           days, but it is not without its attendant risks,
>      changed us from    of course. You pay your penny and take your
>      being the most     chance. You could be lucky and be part of a
>      untouchable        skin-grafting team. Apart from finishing up like a
>      into the most      harlequin quilt you come to no real harm. On the
>      hutchable          other hand, you may end up in toxicology tests at
>      animals in the     Porton Down. Even so, by following the age-old
>      history of Man.    rule "Never Volunteer," you could stay there all
>                         your life and never have a day off sick. When they
>                         start to fumble around for test animals just fade
>                         quietly away into a corner of the cage. The ones
>                         they can't catch they invariably leave as
>                         controls. Never rush or panic, as this will draw
>                         their attention. And above all, don't attack them
>                         -- a cornered scientist can be vicious. If all
>                         else fails and they grab you anyway, pee on their
>                         hand.
>
>                         I would like to say a word here about
>                         accommodation in research labs. By and large it is
>                         very good. The meals are regular and the food is
>                         excellent. There is room for improvement in other
>                         directions, however. I wish they wouldn't persist
>                         in putting down sawdust. It gets all over your
>                         fur. You keep thinking you've got systemic
>                         dandruff. Newspaper would be better. None of your
>                         Daily Sketch rubbish though. Most of us prefer a
>                         heavy daily -- the Times is a favourite,
>                         especially if the crossword is on view. But for
>                         God's sake change the paper every day. Never mind
>                         the hygiene: what were the answers to yesterday's
>                         clues?
>
>                         I found my own metier in psychology. I run mazes
>                         and things. Psychologists are pleasant,
>                         simple-mind souls, and life is pretty good. Mind
>                         you, you need be a cut above the average with the
>                         old gray matter. They don't like dim animals doing
>                         intelligence work: it takes them far too long to
>                         get any results, you see. They'd never use
>                         rabbits, for example. They're as thick as two
>                         planks. NaturalIy, it doesn't do to be too smart
>                         either. Most mazes are ineptly easy. It's all you
>                         can do sometimes not to nod off in the middle of a
>                         run, paralyzed with boredom. But you must appear
>                         to play the game and act as though the entire
>                         thing is straining the frontiers of your
>                         intelligence. You scratch their back and they'll
>                         scratch yours.
>                         Reward-punishment games present a bit of a
>                         problem. You'd think psychologists would know
>                         better. I am not altogether unknown in the trade
>                         as a cheese gourmet. I like nothing better than a
>                         rich, ripe wedge of Stilton. And what do I get?
>                         That same old indestructible cube of New Zealand
>                         Cheddar, day after day. The first time I saw it I
>                         nearly had a blue fit. If that's the reward, I
>                         thought, what's the punishment? Quite
>                         frankly, some mornings I prefer to press the wrong
>                         button on purpose. Anything is preferable to that
>                         pig's breakfast, even twelve volts up the hooter.
>
>
>                         Reprinted with permission from The New Scientist.
>
>  -------------------------------------------------------------------------
>