Breaking NEWS: Science Man in Trouble

We received the following e-mail from Science Man:

Dear Damon (and readers),

Well, it appears that the cat is out of the bag regarding my whereabouts last week. I suppose it doesn't matter--the men who are chasing me are uncomfortably ahead of that.

I have good reason to believe that someone has hired persons in the Vietnamese organized crime demimer (the term given to the aggregate of illegal fish trade cartels) to "knock me off," as it were. I must assume it is a contract, the animus originating from someone other than the mobsters, because I have always been so well received in Vietnamese-American fishing communities (as a result of my vigorous public support of Vietnamese-American Shrimpers in their late 1970s/early 1980s clashes with white supremacists in Louisiana and Texas). Regardless, I have been forced once more to confront my mortality.

The story: Shortly after leaving Berlin, I spoke with Pinto on the telephone. We discussed many things, but eventually we came to the subject of work. He explained that he had friends in the shipping industry and could get me a position on a freighter. (While this may sound lonely to some, and thus not the sort of thing I should be looking for, given my recent difficulties, Pinto assured me that camaraderie within crews is strong, and that the times at port are often great adventures.) I accepted his offer and was on my way to Japan in the large freighter pictured below when I was informed by a reliable source that I was a wanted man. With the help of my generous crewmates--I shall never forget you, brothers!--I was able to depart on a rubber raft, carrying nothing but my lucky walking stick, a backpack containing a change of clothes, and the 32 dollars they gave me. (Your anonymous reader must have photographed me just after I reached shore).

Obviously, I can tell you little of my current whereabouts--or my future plans. Please thank Jlou, Sujan et. al. for their sage advice. It seems that for now I shall be living hand-to-mouth, one day at a time, each breath made more anxious and yet more sweet by the knowledge that it could be my last. But, I ask, does that make me any different from the rest of you? I remain

Your Humble Friend,
Science Man






The fugitive continues his escape after reaching shore.


There you have it, Readers. Our friend Science Man is in trouble. If you think you can help in any way, please e-mail us at ohgivemeahome(at)gmail(dot)com.



A final note: We will be away for the weekend. Posting should resume Monday or Tuesday.