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Senator Hubris and Government Grants

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Senator Hubris took his seat at the head of a long table filled with corporate businessmen, staff members, and university representatives.
“Is this room secure?” Hubris leaned towards the staff member to his right. The staff member on his left heard a quiet puff and leaned away from the senator.
“Yes senator, the room is quite secure,” the right man whispered.
“No news people?” the senator furled his eyebrows.
“No, sir,” the right man shook his head, but held up a hand, “Ah, but there is a MZN representative here.”
“Oh, that’s alright,” Hubris smiled, “As long as no FAX people are present, I think we may proceed.”
A stately man wearing a tweed jacket, raised a hand, allowing everyone to see the fine leather patch on the elbow of his university uniform.
“Yes, professor,” Hubris acknowledged the man.
“Harrumph,” the professor cleared his throat and dropped his hand, allowing a heavy ring to knock against the tabletop, “We had a concern about Global Warming that may have significant impact on our economy.”
“Please be more specific, if possible,” Hubris leaned forward, feigning interest. The staff member seated to his left coughed loudly and excused himself with a wave of his handkerchief.
“Well, just perhaps,” the professor hesitated, “What if…I mean to say; what if some degree of global warming actually does occur?”
“Oh come on now,” Hubris flapped his jowls by shaking his head. “You have seen the modifications to the hard data, have you not?”
“Well, some of my students did inspect the information,” the professor’s face turned red.
Hubris folded his hands on the table and spoke patiently, “So you know we modified the data prior to 1950 and lowered the temperatures, while, er, ah, adjusting all the later temperature data to be a bit higher, ah, for the most part. All the information now definitely displays a general rise in temperature using scientific methods. You all, who represent our supporting elite members, stand to make a fortune regulating carbon credits as well as, water, power, and food. The world is our oyster. What is your problem?”
“What if global warming actually does happen?” the learned man looked worried.
“Well, duh, professor,” Hubris snorted, “You know very well there isn’t a damn thing we can do about it and you have always known that. The issue is to bilk a fortune in regulation dollars from the idiots who think we can.”
“Now that’s uncalled for, senator,” a CEO drew attention by firmly placing his hand on the table, eliciting a loud knock from his heavy ring. “Booger got into deep trouble for calling voters stupid.”
“All right, all right,” Hubris relented. “Booger didn’t lose his job, get fined, or suspended, and he was right, of course. He never should have apologized for saying something so obviously verifiable, even without manipulating the data. But we can let that debacle pass. Say, this isn’t another shakedown is it?”
“Well, science isn’t free, you know,” a professor beamed intelligently.
“The manipulation of information is quite arduous and costly in terms of man hours and cover-up expenses,” another educator stated with authority.
“There are some grants that require federal funding, senator,” a woman spoke from the far end of the table.
“Look, you guys have glutted the budget already,” Hubris shook his head and waved his arms. “Some of this stuff is looking too obvious, even for,…ah…ordinary voters. I’m not supporting another rabbit massage study.”
A burly man, seated next to the woman, raised his arm, “There is a specific pedophile study we thought interesting.”
“Oh, no,” the senator remonstrated, “Not another trip to the Middle East.”
Several seated people piped suggestions at the senator.
“Same sex mating habits of Yeti?
“No,” Hubris hung his head.
“Groundhog suicides?”
“Already been done,” Hubris sighed.
“Animal husbands?”
Hubris shook his head at the woman.
“Funeral service bias towards the living and its impact on the deceased?”
“Not a chance,” Hubris shook a finger at the originator, “I remember you, Smith, and don’t even try to bring up necrophilia again.” The man slumped in his chair.
A previously quiet man rapped his ring on the table for attention, “May I suggest a study concerning the habitat loss of deer ticks caused by hunting?”
“Hmm,” Hubris looked about to relent.
“The poor ticks are losing ground,” the man reported. “No pun intended.”
“What pun?” the right man whispered.
“Green peace will support that study, if a grant is supplied.” A well dressed man nodded approval.
“So will PETA,” another man stated. “Poor ticks are needlessly starving every year.”
“And they have no representation, like the spotted owl or desert tortoise,” an adamant voice pleaded with sincere emotion.
“Or smelt,” another representative added to the cacophony.
“Save the Homes of Indigent Ticks,” is a study definitely worthy of a federal grant,” a professor chanted.
The room resounded with the knocking of rings on the long conference table. Their support of the S.H.I.T. study was unanimous.


Written by poyhonen

February 16, 2015 at 4:00 pm

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