The chemistry of rage

Nothing pisses me off more than science. Not whales, not dress shirts buttoned to the top without a tie, not the Jonas Brothers' continued success. Nothing. Actually wait - nothing pisses me off more than people who defend science simply because it's science.

Science does not equal ALWAYS GOOD, VALUABLE AND SENSICAL.

Why is 'nonsensical' a word and 'sensical' is not? That officially knocks the Jonas Brothers off my list. Thanks for nothing, spellcheck.

So we're at home after a date at Swiss Chalet where we were shockingly reminded of how much better we are than everyone else who eats at Swiss Chalet - seriously...suburban trash is so much worse than other varieties because you don't see them coming until they're elbow deep in unnamed dipping sauce with dark meat stuck to their earlobes - watching Angels and Demons.

Can I also take a minute to say how glad I am we've all stopped pretending that Dan Brown is the greatest literary mind to ever exist? That whole "The DaVinci Code is my favourite book of all time" period was pretty bleak. Sure, it was nice to give all the douchebags the prime opportunity to add 'Reading' to their Facebook interests - but let it go. It's over.

First off, getting me to watch a Tom Hanks movie, a religion-based movie, or any movie featuring Ewan McGregor that is not Moulin Rouge, is a feat in itself. Given that Angels and Demons is a combination of all of those things, I'm sure you can understand how much mental preparation it took to be prepared for the onslaught of Bible references, convenient discoveries and always-sort-of-yelling-even-when-he-shouldn't dialogue delivery. And the fact that there would be neither singing nor dancing.

As you can imagine, this mental state made me....shall we say....slightly less receptive than normal to sudden introductions of rigoddamndiculous scientific theories.

Before you could say "barely squeaked through Advanced Chem", the characters were discussing and creating antimatter. I felt the newf flinch and toss a quick, cautionary glance in my direction. And just like that, it was all over.

Ben: "Antimatter. What. The. Dead Babies. That."

The Newf: "Well actually it's a theoretical concept referring to something that is not a liquid, solid or gas. So, it's kind of like-"

B: "It's absolute bullshit. That's what it is. People who call themselves scientists get financial backing to investigate something that may or may not exist, may or may not have any impact on our lives whatsoever and may or may not be entirely fabricated by some crazy geek who couldn't handle his weed? Heap of steaming bullshit."

TN: "Uh...I...uh..."

B: "Seriously. I'm officially a scientist. I'm going to dedicate years to investigating unicorns, leprechauns and the regiment that lets men maintain an eight-pack while still consuming complex sugars because THAT'S ABOUT AS REALISTIC AS ANTIMATTER."

TN: "But...there's..."

B: "SHUTTHEHELLUPI'MNOWHERENEARFINISHED. Where's my Dad. He's a 'scientist', isn't he?"

TN: "He...a...marine...biologist?"

B: "Same bullshit thing. He probably just looks for made up things in the water. Like mermaids. Or singing hermit crabs. Or Ursula."

TN: "..."

B: "I'M ABOUT TO CUT SOMEBODY."

TN: "Are you done?"

B: ".....quite."

The lessons to be learned are are as follows:

• The newf is smart and annoying.
• Science is a blanket term for expensive wastes of time.
• I need a better rebuttal to 'We all thought the earth was flat once'.
• Bad things happen when you combine Swiss Chalet and Tom Hanks into one evening.