With the discovery of the top quark, the last of the 12 subatomic building blocks thought to constitute all of the material world, came the belief that Science had finally "figured it all out." In the euphoria of victory, scientists gathering at various sites around the world joined in a week-long celebration-frenzy fueled, not only by the sheer significance of the discovery but also, by the unleashing in the scientific community of a long-suppressed desire to get down and boogy.

However, when the music was over the only research most scientists found themselves engaged in was a now urgent attempt to cure the oldest plague known to man: the hangover.

Having found the missing piece in the theory that defines what is known of the atom and its structure (central to understanding time, matter and the universe) the big buck funders have begun saying "bye-bye" and "toodle-loo" to the big brains, and the fields usually considered "pure research" are now considered "kerplunk."

Many scientists, after a period of soul-searching, are saying privately that maybe they were too smart for their own good. "A little dumbing-down could have gone a long way," said Professor Harve' Glowne speaking off the record. "But what can you do? We are just inherently and irrepressibly extremely intelligent."

The failure of the Golden Oldies Theories Channel to get off the ground brings with it reports of a rise in the phenomena of out-of-work scientists being arrested on the streets for badgering passersby with ideas nobody understands.

However, not all stories concerning contemporary scientists are tales of woe.

For every thousand complaining, negativistic and piteous cries emanating from the brain dung heap comes the clear, visionary voice of a scientist who not only has a head on his (or her) shoulders, but coins in his (or her) pockets. One such voice belongs to Alfred Knurdelphon.