Notes from Project Gnathonemus

Damien Morton morton@dennisinter.com
Wed, 11 Jul 2001 01:02:44 -0400


Appologies if this is considered spam - Im really not sure what to
consider it

------------------------------

Notes from Project Gnathonemus
- or -
17 Days of Weird Fish Madness!
By Jeff Kamenek (jkamenek@hotmail.com)


Day 1: =20
     First day at new job; assigned to Project Gnathonemus, whatever the
heck that is.  Locate project office in basement - empty but for one
desk with my name on nameplate.  Apparently I am the project head and
entire staff of Project G (as we insiders call it) - mystifying, as I
applied for janitorial position.  In afternoon, take delivery of three
tanks containing murky green water - closer inspection reveals two live,
disturbing-looking fish with long loathsome noses and a medium-size,
greenish-grey octopus.

Day 2:
    Got memos re: Project G - organisational chart is indeed just a box
with my name in it.  Project goal is "to be determined".  Deadline
ditto.  Have lunch - sushi.  Looked up fish in library - apparently
they're called Elephant-Trunk Fish, a.k.a. Gnathonemus petersii of the
order Mormyriformes
- hence name of project?=20
    In afternoon, go next door to Project Mortimer, meet project head
Dave W.  Confess I have no idea what I am doing as Head of Project G;
he tells me that he is a retired F-15 carrier pilot who had attempted to
get job as security guard, but instead found himself subjecting mice to
inexplicable simulated high gravity experiments; also that he mostly
uses project budget to buy colour TVs, VCRs, etc. for family and
friends.  Indeed a wise man.  We have coffee together; he shows me the
metal plate in his head.  Fed fish and octopus; went home.

Day 3:
    Two more tanks on the desk this morning - another ugly fish, another
ugly octopus.  Had an argument with Dave about the plural of octopus - I
say it's 'octopi', he claims it's 'octopuses'.  To settle argument, he
produces a pocket dictionary - it says 'octopodes'.  I trust Dave less
now.
     Ordered computer from IT department, surprisingly it is on my desk
after lunch (Vietnamese).  Look up elephant-trunk fish on Internet -
apparently they communicate using electricity; females can be induced to
lay eggs by a male in a different tank if the tanks are connected by
wires.  Immediately order spools of wire on new corporate credit card,
also VCR, colour TV, etc. (see attached receipts).
    The ancient Greeks used to call electric rays 'narke', which means
something like 'numbfish' - this is where the word narcotic comes from.
They were some sort of fertility symbol.  Man, those ancient Greeks -
they were nuts.  Probably stood on too many numbfish.

Day 4:
    Realise I don't know how to identify fish gender - Dave says the
male should have brighter plumage, but I think that's birds. Wire tanks
together at random - nothing much happens, perhaps it depends on wire
gauge; speculate about merits of attaching car batteries.  Realise I
don't know what eggs looked like - get depressed.  One of the octopodes
attempts to climb up the wire when I went to connect them too.  After
medicinal application of Scotch I keep behind loose ceiling tile, spend
afternoon investigating more secure covering for octopus tanks.  Order
video footage of fish via courier.  Try to teach the smaller octopus to
do tricks (I don't like the big one), but it just hid in a cloud of ink.
    Elephant-trunk fish brains are 3.1% of body mass - human brains are
only 2.3%.  I now find it difficult to completely trust the fish, and
have stopped discussing important issues with them.

Day 5:
     Watch videos - those fish really can communicate with electricity -
stuff like willingness to mate, fight, etc.  Wonder what it would be
like if I could do that.  The bigger octopus stole a paperclip that I
was poking him with in the name of science - I have decided to name him
Winston, due to his uncanny resemblance to Churchill.  The smaller I
shall call Mister Inky.  The fish don't deserve names. =20

Day 6:
    Things are not going as well as planned - Project Gnathonemus has
suffered a severe setback.  The events of last night, after I left for
home, can best be summed up as Sneak Octoped Attack.  Apparently leaving
the paperclip in the tank was a big mistake, as Winston used it to
disassemble the top of his tank and then free Mister Inky - the two then
teamed up to tip over the fishes' tanks.  I regret not naming the fish
now, but I can't stay angry with Winston or Mister Inky - they're just a
couple of mischievous scamps, really.  Dried out dead fish in new
microwave so they wouldn't smell, with moderate success.

Day 7:
    Still depressed.  In morning, have coffee with Dave, discuss dangers
of landing on aircraft carriers at night.  Spend afternoon daydreaming
about having Super Elephant-Trunk Fish Powers, eg:

Me: Hey there, attractive female woman!
Woman:  Go away.
Me:  <zzzzztt> <zzzzzzz-zzz-zzz-zzz> <zzzztt>
Woman:  My, it sure is warm in here...  perhaps I will loosen my
clothing.
(Rival Male arrives)
Rival Male: Ha ha!  Behold!  I am here to take your woman!  Or women!
Me:  <ZZZZTTT!> <ZZZZTTT!> <ZZZZTTT!>
Rival Male: I... I'll just be going then.
(Rival Male scuttles cravenly away)
Woman:  Oh! (Swoons attractively)
(Another Woman arrives, tends to first, much sidelong glancing at Me)

Day 8:
     Perhaps if I took some sort of extract from the dried fish, like
the pineal gland or something, I COULD develop Super Elephant-Trunk Fish
Powers! Note: do fish have pineal glands?  What the hell is a pineal
gland anyway?
     In afternoon, went to Research Department, found Biochemical
Section, speak to Section Head about fish extract possibilities.  She
informs me she is a former North Korean spy and ex-Mormon, has little
grasp of biochemistry and that she mostly just sells cosmetics, candy
and heavy-duty narcotics to the secretaries.  Leave frustrated, though
she did give me some free eyeliner and something called 'mescaline';
also, she showed me how to kill a man using only a pair of chopsticks.
As a sign of respect, I will permit her to rub Mister Inky for luck.

Day 9:
     Took mescaline in morning.  Later, have amazing insight - if I ate
the ENTIRE fish, I would logically absorb whatever gland, organ or sac
was responsible for electrical powers and would therefore assume said
powers.  Immediately attempt to eat fish, hit snag with bones, also poor
taste, odour and texture.  Grind fish up by pounding with keyboard; v.
laborious process.  Mixed with Scotch, drank.  Little improvement, but
angelic choir, talking pot-plants, etc. insist that I continue, as does
Winston; Mister Inky abstains but I suspect he is secretly siding with
Winston.
    At around noon, I feel a powerful urge to found a Church of
Latter-Day Mormyriformes, but it soon passes.
    Early attempts to abuse piscine powers meet with limited success
(one secretary smiled at me in the elevator when I attempt to transmit
my Throbbing Primal Mating Urge).

Day 10:
     Further experiments proved disastrous - can't commit it to paper
right now, as I'm too emotional;  also waiting for police to finalise
list of charges.

Day 11:


Day 12:


Day 13:
    The judicial system in this country is a disgrace.  Who would have
thought they could set bail so high?   I spit at their so-called
'72-count indictment'.

Day 14:
    Events of the past few days have convinced me I'm on the wrong
track; I've been studying the research material again in an effort to
get an insight into my error.  Noticed something interesting - male ETFs
can emit jamming signals to block the signals of rivals.   Perhaps I
should be working along these lines instead?

Day 15:
    Not much work done today - musing on possibilities of jamming
signals, eg:

Me:  Greetings, potential mate!  I desire sexual congress!
Woman:  Go away.  I am waiting for another person.  Also I am armed.
(Rival Male arrives)
Rival Male: Hey baby... how's about...
Me (matching frequency): eeeeooooEEEEEEEEEEEEeeeeeeeeeeee...
Woman (to Rival Male): Sorry, did you say something?
Rival Male: I said...
Me (louder): eeeeeeeoooEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEeeeeeeeeeeeee!
Woman: Pardon?
Rival Male (to Me): Jesus sodding Christ will you stop poking me with
those chopsticks?=20
And what's with that noi...
Me (louder still): eeeooEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEeeeeeeeeeeeee!
(Rival Male leaves, baffled)
Woman:  Oh, he left.  Too bad.  My, it sure is warm in here...=20
	(Another Woman arrives)

Day 16:
    Bloody senior managers - they are demanding to see the fish, re:
some bet with Accounting.  I tell them the fish have died of Fish-AIDS
and were cremated for reasons of National Hygiene, which buys me some
time, but they won't leave until I threaten them with Mister Inky.
Later they send me a memo saying they thought the Fish-AIDS story was
'afeasible'; I reply with an email saying that the situation is pelagic
and that we are actioning the possibility of pro-active temporal input
from Project Mortimer. No reply.  (Note: remember to return Dave's
dictionary.  And insulin. )

Day 17:
    Began Phase Two - injected fish serum directly into brain.  Hurts a
bit, then vision clears and I have a brilliant idea - ETFs could be
CONTROLLED by electricity, or maybe telepathy (via enormous crystals and
such).  Spend several hours speculating about possible uses for slavish
army of zombie-fish, but come up mostly blank.  Suddenly remember
they're freshwater fish, which rules out most forms of ocean piracy and
terrorism, dammit.  Also they're kinda feeble.
     In afternoon, start planning working holiday to wherever bloody
fish come from... Africa as it turns out.  Phone several airlines, ask
about travel arrangements for octopodes on African flights, but they
just hang up.  Perhaps if I disguise them with baseball caps and
sunglasses I can smuggle them on as children - after all, I need them to
keep the fish in line; Project Gnathonemus must not be allowed to fail!=20