iLaugh.com

Wow. It sure has been a long time since our last encounter. I can’t imagine how hard it must’ve been for you and I apologize with every bit of sincerity that I can muster. I guess I just haven’t been adequately inspired in a while.

Until now. Recently, an article from Reuters told of how scientists have genetically engineered mice that develop the physical and psychological characteristics of schizophrenia. The aim of this study is to “help improve understanding of the disease and help develop drugs to treat it.”

I disagree. I think the aim of this study is to make fucked up little mice.

Schizophrenia affects about 1 percent of the world’s population but currently affects 100 percent of genetically-engineered-schizophrenic mice. Does that statistic seem fair to you? Of course it doesn’t!

I’m not some crazy animal-rights supporter. I don’t work for PETA (People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals). In fact, I’m eating several different kinds of meat as I write this all wrapped into one tasty hot dog. Might there be bits of schitzomice in here? Who knows. But I’ll be damned if a little ketchup doesn’t make rodent flesh the edible incarnate of Heaven itself.

The first question that came to my mind after spotting the headline was “how exactly do you know whether or not a mouse is schizophrenic?” From my very limited knowledge of the illness I’ve understood that there are no certain characteristics that are distinct to schizophrenia. This quote from the Internet’s most reliable and accurate source of legitimately gathered and certified information, Wikipedia, also makes a good point: “No laboratory test for schizophrenia exists.”

So where’s the beef? What proof do these “scientists” have that the mice have in fact developed schizophrenia? Specifically, when the mice matured to an age thought to be equivalent to the time of life that a human would acquire symptoms, they began to show increased agitation in open spaces and had more trouble finding hidden food than healthy mice and less interest in swimming.

These supposedly parallel the hyperactivity, impaired sense of smell and apathy found in humans suffering from the illness.

Perhaps. Or perhaps increased agitation in open spaces is a result of being trapped in a GOD DAMN CAGE THEIR ENTIRE LIVES. Perhaps the idea of being outside of a confined area is a little overwhelming having never known more than a square foot of living space mostly filled with their own feces and a big freakin’ wheel that’s supposed to keep them entertained for hours on end. WOOO! There’s a wheel in here! I’ll never be bored again!! I know I’d be a little agitated if I were suddenly thrust into the center of the Milky Way with no directions or a parachute (ya I said it).

Perhaps, an impaired sense of smell is one of the few breaks that are cut for these furry little bastards. Maybe God or Darwin decided to exercise a pinch of mercy and not force the already chronically diseased, frequently swatted with brooms, and most-likely to have their head severed by a metal bar on a wooden deathbed rodents to wallow in the pungent order of their own filthy shit with which they are pent up in their tiny cells. Or perhaps they can’t find the hidden food cause they just don’t give a fuck anymore! How ambitious would you be in their situation? Seriously.

Anyway, I really don’t give a mouse’s ass about what they do with them. I just felt like ranting about something and this fit the bill. Pluck their limbs off one at a time as slowly as possible with a pair of tweezers for all I care. Sorry P.E.T.A. You thought you had made a new friend, didn’t you?