Yo, Tech Answer Guy,
I was talking to my neighbour, Fred, over our fence (I've gotten quite good at avoiding the barbed wire) about the best way to cook dinosaur. I told him that archeological evidence suggested that when our ancestors cooked brontosaurus…es, they slathered the ribs in sauce. Fred insisted that they ground the dino meat up and served it as burgers. In those days, potatoes were the size of Buicks, so mashing one could provide the side for a clan of 20 people. But, bronto burgers? Really? I laughed and told Fred to get real, that he had watched too many cartoons, that bronto burgers on the prehistoric menu was as likely as anthropogenic climate change!
Then, the strangest thing happened.
A guy I had never seen before in my life walked up to me and said in an impressively commanding voice, "Give me your keys."
I reflexively reached into my pocket, but stopped myself before I pulled out my keychain. "Hey, wait a minute," I said. "That's an impressively commanding voice you've got there, bub, but I've never seen you before in my life. Why should I give you my keys?"
The stranger pointed to a cap he was wearing with a badge on it. "Science Police," he told me. "You wanna disparage science, that's your business, pal. But, if you do, you're not allowed to enjoy the fruits of science."
"Waddya mean?" I challenged him.
"You know who built the car that you drive?"
"No."
"Science built it, that's who. And, who made the oven your wife cooks your meals in?"
"Haven't a clue."
"Science, buddy. The flat screen TV, the computer you watch porn on - naah, don't tryna deny it, it's written all over your sorry mug - the air conditioner that keeps you from frying in the summer - they were all made possible by science. If you don't believe in science, you can't believe in any of them. So, as a duly deputized agent of the Science Police, it is my sworn duty to confiscate objects that, for you, shouldn't exist."
"Yeah, yeah. Listen, pal, I wasn't born yesterday! Lemme see some credentials!" I insisted.
"Are these credentials enough for you?" He pointed to his back, out of which grew the most exquisite pair of wings I had ever seen. Sheer, shimmering things of beauty, they were. "Genetic engineering," he explained. "When you believe in science, anything is possible, friend. So, hand 'em over."
I couldn't argue with the wings, so I put my keys in his outstretched hand. That was three days ago. My car is gone and my house has been cleaned out of all of its appliances, much of its furniture and my dog Saint Hughie. And, I really liked that dog. My wife wouldn't stop yapping about how much we lost, but she hadn't gotten her peepers on those wings, boy.
You think losing all this property is enough to put me in Dutch with the Science Police, or are they gonna come and arrest me?
Sincerely,Yo, Bobbo,
Ain't no easy way to break this to you, kiddo, so I'll just come out and say it: you wuz robbed.
They're a gang known as the Queen Street Fairy Science Police, see? They hang around public places in religious communities around the city and wait for somebody to say something anti-science. Then, out come the wings, on go the caps and before you know it all your worldly possessions of any value are gone.
They work on the assumption that anybody who doesn't understand how science actually works will easily believe that there is such a thing as a science police force. Good assumption. The wings are a distraction, but, judging from reports on the activity of the criminals, a very effective one.
The Science Police have been spotted in major cities across North America. They ain't never been caught; nobody knows who they are. The wings could be part of a costume, or genetically engineered, like the one you encountered sez, or a sign that they come from a universe where magic is an organizing principle. I'd like to believe in the last possibility, but I'm just an irony-loving bastard that way.
The Tech Answer Guy
If you are a dude with a question about the latest technology, ask The Tech Answer Guy by sending it to questions@lespagesauxfolles.ca. Just remember: You wouldn't know it to look at his half guzzled six pack, but The Tech Answer Guy is a sensitive soul. Really. So, if you force him to give you bad news, expect no sugar-coating. That's what you get for putting him through such suffering!