As I have mentioned before, I am an avid reader of the daily newspaper. In fact, I don’t watch the news on television, well, except on rare occasions, and I do mean rare, mainly because I simply cannot tolerate sitting there and watching those perfectly-coifed co-anchors flashing their pearly whites as they smile insipidly at the camera while relating the gory details of the latest homicide, multi-car pileup, or natural disaster. Of course, there’s radio, which would do in a pinch, but why bother when I have The Advocate? The Advocate is a good newspaper. It keeps me well informed and up-to-date on what’s happening in the world; and it covers both state and national happenings, although I must admit that, quiet often, as I read my daily paper, it does more than provide me with the news; it also provides me with reason to question the sanity of humankind.

For example, in Monday’s The Advocate, I read that a state trooper stopped a man for speeding in Salisbury, Connecticut. The speeder’s excuse? Well, it seems he was eating Oreo cookies and dipping them in milk, which is the way most people like to eat Oreos, albeit most people don’t normally do so why cruising along the highway. Anyway, the guy dipped an Oreo, which slipped from his fingers and fell into the cup of milk; then, as he told the trooper, he was trying to fish the cookie out of the milk. However, the cookie eluded him, which caused him to lose control of his car; and the car, having a mind of its own, decided to accelerate to a high rate of speed. (Maybe the car was angry because the guy wouldn’t share his cookies.)

On Tuesday, I read that the “Barbie Bandits,” who gained fame by going on a shopping spree and having their hair done at an upscale salon after they were videotaped wearing sunglasses, dressed to the nines, and giggling as they robbed a bank in Acworth, Georgia of $11,000, finally had their day in court. However, I guess the judge was a big Barbie fan since Barbie One has to serve only two years of a 10-year sentence, and Barbie Two received ten years probation. On the other hand, the bank teller who was in on the heist, not being a Barbie or even closely related, has to serve five years behind bars. And you tell me there’s no justice in this world.

Then, on Wednesday, I read that this guy, who had collected over $5,000 in worker’s compensation after he was supposedly injured on the job in June, was caught on video running a 40-yard dash in women’s clothing and high heels. Of course, he had a valid reason: he was competing to win a radio station’s contest for Hannah Montana concert tickets. Oh, and not only was the guy wearing a dress and high heels, he was balancing an egg in spoon; and the entire spectacle was broadcast on the evening news. Now the poor guy has been charged with worker’s compensation fraud, and he didn’t even win the contest.

Okay, next, on Thursday, I read that scientists at the Marine Biological Laboratory at Wood’s Hole (I think it’s near Boston) received a $250,000 grant from the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration to train fish to catch themselves. Yes, that’s right—to catch themselves. It seems the scientists are borrowing from Pavlov (You know, the guy who rang a bell before he fed his dogs so the dogs began salivating whenever they heard a ding). Anyway, this group of scientists played a tone for 20 seconds (Don’t ask what kind of tone; the article didn’t say) whenever they fed some fish they had in a circular tank; and it worked. After two weeks, as one scientist said, they had “remote-control fish” (Advocate, 2008, p. 6A). So, you ask, why bother getting fish to respond to a tone? Well, if all goes according to plan, fish-farmers, or whatever they are called, will tone-train black sea bass then release the fish into the ocean, where the fish will mature much quicker than in captivity. Then, again if all goes according to plan, the fish-farmers will play the tone that signals mealtime and the now market-ready plump black sea bass will begin to salivate and swim into an underwater cage to be harvested. Yeah, right. Just think about it. If you were a black sea bass swimming around out in the ocean, with its plentiful supply of natural food, would you go zooming into some cage when you heard a tone if you knew, based upon past experience, that the most you could hope to find in that cage was some mealy store-bought fish food? Duh, I think not. And you wonder where your tax dollars go.

And that, my friends, is this week in the news; and it’s why I read The Advocate.