If there’s one thing people know about me above all else, it’s that I’m a scientist first, human being second, and, I guess, lover third. Stick journalist in there somewhere, too. Oh. And stuntman. Really, I’m a stuntman first, scientist second. Who gives a shit about the other stuff? Being a stuntman/scientist is awesome, let me tell you.
Anyway, given my standing in the scientific community, Science often knocks on my door looking for my opinion of one scientific science thing or another. I’m always happy to oblige. It’s my duty to share my knowledge with humanity; a duty I’m honored to carry out. So when Dr. Science sent this over to me, you can imagine my skepticism (there was none. I totally accepted it at face value immediately — don’t tell Dr. Science). He’d filled me in on some of the details over the telegraph. Apparently, the large hydron collider had opened up a fracture in the time/space continuum and one vital bit of information had been sent through the time rift, across eons and light years. And here it was, in my hands. Something so profane and yet so obvious, the absolute truth behind it was reality shattering.
For the first time ever, we sciencers present to you this missive from the distant future. While the author is quite elegant and refined, some of the ideas presented herein might be a bit too much for ColuMn’s more delicate readers. We urge you to use your best judgment in determining whether or not to go on. Are you prepared for EVERYTHING to change? Whether you know it or not, it already has. Or will. I’m confused.
Without further ado, I present to you, Dr. , uh, Science Junior and The Great Frankenberry Experiments.
November 11, 2012
After months of theorizing and hypothesizing, we had our first real breakthrough today. Just the idea of it sets my head spinning. If this works . . . Christ, if it even pretends to work, all of the world’s problems essentially become inconsequential as a new age dawns on mankind. “What if?” that’s how all dreams start, is it not? How all man’s accomplishments first begin. A simple question. Simple, yet frightening in consideration of what answers such a question might yield.
What if I ate a bowl of Frankenberry, but instead of just plain old boring milk I used . . . strawberry milk? My God! I can barely believe my fingers are typing these words. And yet it seems so obvious. How has this not been done before? Has it? Did the Ancients first discover this, destroying every mention of the concoction to spare future generations that much great fucking artificial strawberry taste? Damn you, Ancients. I curse your very graves.
Tomorrow will be the day. Tomorrow, I raise my spoon, TRIUMPHANT!
November 12, 2012
It’s over. The world as you once knew it is over. What yesterday might have been considered just a bowl of self-loathing and regret (with Frankenberry cereal added) is now so much more. My eyes have truly been opened to just how much artificial strawberry flavor one man can endure. And it’s a lot.
I documented the process as best I could in photographs, but I fear I did not do it justice and must continue my research, replicating the outcome if possible. That’s science.
Even though I’ve had this box of Frankenberry since July, I was surprised to discover the contents to be very fresh, like fresh picked strawberries, only not containing even the slightest drop of actual fruit. I chose childhood favorite Nestle Stawberry Quik to mix into a little more than half a glass of Fat Free milk (my barely functional organs can only take so much punishment). Combining the two ingredients, I felt it immediately necessary to remind myself that it was part of a nutritious breakfast, though it was the non-nutritious part.
Taking the bowl in my hand, I dipped the spoon into the murky pink waters, bringing up a heaping spoonful of cereal, marshmallow, and strawberry milk. I raised it to my lips and shoveled it into my gaping maw. The sensation was . . . exquisite. Never before had so much artificial strawberry exploded in my mouth (not in a gay way). The strawberry combined with the strawberry didn’t cancel out the strawberry as I’d hypothesized. In fact, it made the flavor even MORE strawberry-ish.
By the time I finished the bowl, my gums were bleeding profusely, but I was also ready to run a marathon. Instead, I chose to sit on my sofa and ask myself why God hated me so much. But I was jittery with sugar-infused energy while doing so. If you need a quick pick-me-up, I can’t recommend this mixture highly enough. Even if you like strawberrys!
As I put the spoon down in the empty bowl, cleaning strawberry milk and tiny cereal chunks out of my moustache and beard, another revelation hit me like a bolt of crunchy pink lightning: if strawberry milk was that good, what would chocolate milk do? Would it shatter the very universe itself? My money was on that. But we’ll have to wait and see if I commit universal genocide tomorrow, because I just crashed hard and no longer feel like wr
December 20, 2012
Much time has passed. I wanted to log this experiment earlier, but it took me a month to recover from my previous findings (Frankenberry really chews your mouth up). It’s really quite extraordinary. It was just supposed to be a simple test. What would be the results of mixing Frankenberry with chocolate milk? Since Prometheus stole fire from the gods, humanity has always striven to break barriers and shatter taboos. But sometimes that knowledge is dangerous, and once that knowledge is released, there’s no going back. As Oppenheimer probably felt about the nuclear bomb, so do I feel about the insanity of the chocolate milk/Frankenberry hybrid. My God. What have I done?
It just looks wrong before the components are even combined. You know you shouldn’t be messing with things of this magnitude, but as a stuntman of science, I feel compelled to press on. By breaking this last taboo, what wonders will I unlock, both on the physical and mental planes? I pick up the glass and pour the milk over the unnaturally pink cereal. Things aren’t looking good, but I’m committed now. I plunge the spoon into the bowl and pull out a heapin’ helpin’ of nastiness. It doesn’t look good. But then I taste it. Hmm. Not bad. At first the Frankenberry taste overwhelms the chocolate milk and it just tastes like a bowl of Franks. But as I progress through the meal, the chocolate taste becomes more apparent. By the last few spoonfuls, the chocolate almost begins to overwhelm the Frankenberry.
Can I recommend it? Should I recommend it? The answer to both questions is “no”. It’s simply not very good. It’s strange and not bad, but regular Frankenberry in regular milk is just 1000 times better. And besides, who knows what the consequences will ultimately be as a result of my prying where no man should ever pry?
December 21, 2012
Oops. Fucked up bad. Universe imploding. A strange rift has opened up in my lab, so I’m encoding these log entries and sending them back in time, hoping some of the brightest minds of the past can prevent what I have unleashed on the present. Einstein. Hawking. Spock. Anyone. Anyone. An
Wow! That’s crazy stuff, huh? Imagine that. Dr. Science Junior is a stuntman, too! Just like me. Luckily, I think we’ll all agree that his data has landed in pretty much the only hands capable of addressing such a problem. I must find this Dr. Science Junior, as they call him, and stop him from performing these experiments.
To that end, I regret to say that I am ending ColuMn. I will now devote my life to finding Dr. Science Junior and preventing the armageddon that he sets off.
But first I think I’ll have a bowl of cereal. For some reason I’m really craving Frankenberry. You know what would be absolutely nuts? What if I substituted strawberry milk for regular milk. Oh, no! I’ve got it. What if I substitute CHOCOLATE milk! That sounds really good.
And then after that I’ll Google Dr. Science Junior and see if I can find an email address or something. Oh my God. You should see this photo I just got from my friend. I’ve got to write a bit about it. So yeah. Frankenberry, then write that bit, then whatever I was going to do with Professor Whatsisname. Or maybe some stuntwork.
What was I saying?