Open Letter to Science Man

Dear Science Man,

We know that you have been struggling lately, even questioning your commitment to the life of a scholar. Reading your letter, we finally realized how lonely it must have been for you all these years. After all, you hadn't a companion. You hadn't a Gödel.

In your solitary struggle, you gave and gave: groundbreaking tractates; pithy, beautiful poems. We feel that now, when you are feeling confused and alone, the least we could do is to provide some words of encouragement and advice. We have solicited the wisdom of some of our sagest friends. We hope it helps.



Pinto:

I know he's been lonely and wants to meet Science Woman,
but I think he should become a monk. He can leave his
wants behind. Some facts about monks: They get out quite
a bit, traveling from temple to temple, I guess. They
can't touch women in any sort of way. When paying bus fare
to a female conductor they put the money in some neutral
space; the conductor responds in kind with any change.
There is a parade when a monk reaches monkhood. Supposedly
these are quite wild affairs. Family, friends, everyone's
drunk but the monk. It's a happy thing like a wedding
reception. They're also pretty nice guys. I met a couple
on the bus ride here.




Sujan:

do not sit lonely, rubbing those sticks
consider unzipping, and rubbing your dick.




JLou:

Are you a Science Man or a Science Mouse? Be bold. See the world. Find Science Woman. But remember--only when you stop looking will she appear. And until that happens, I happen to know a charming law student in New York who wouldn't mind buying you a drink...(we could produce patent lawyers!)

Oh, and by the way, get an agent. Your poems are wasted here. Nobody reads this rag.




jsanjana:
Your hyper-rationality reminds me of my father. You must learn to accept that you cannot control or comprehend everything in this world.




A.C.:

If you want to get Science Woman, listen to my man Gary.




Gary:

So you’re not ever gonna get into these little brouhahas about ‘Well, what do you want to do? Well where would you like to go?’ Ever. Cuz a prick is in charge of his own world and a prick makes the decisions. And a prick is the guy, remember, who gets all the sex. So you never stoop down to that level of ‘Oh, where do you want to go? What do you want to do? What do you think?’ Can’t do it. Don’t ever do it. Ever. Don’t let me catch you doing it. I will show up at your house.
[audio clip of Gary's advice here]




Sylvester:

A while back, I heard a story that will affect you: The average person lives out 75 years. Now, if you multiply 75 years times 52 weeks, you come up with 3,900 weeks of life. That’s it. That’s all the average person has. Then I thought, hell, I’m 58. Which means I have roughly 884 weekends left. Eight hundred and eighty four weeks? Damn! Talk about a wake up call.

...it seems it’s all over in the blink of an eye. So let’s be more selfish with who, or where, we spend our precious time. With 884 weekends left, I now only do things that make my heart and soul feel satisfied. I take that trip, buy that car, call that friend, tell that special someone I love them when they least expect it.

Pay attention to the really important things in life. Be the guy who tells the joke, not the recipient of the punch line. Be the predator, not the food source. Gorge yourself at that banquet of life until the only thing left on the table are crumbs. In other words, you’re an army of one. So, it’s up to you to either lead the charge with conquest on your mind... or sound the trumpets of retreat.
[Read more in the premier issue of Sly Magazine.]


Well, that's it, Science Man. Know that we think of you often and fondly.

As you would say, stay strong. And stay clean.

Damon