Brown Fat: How Evolution Is Saving Us From Our Own Fat Asses
One of the more ego-stroking results of the little Lunch Hour Sketches DOB and I have been posting is the number of comments pointing out how tall, lean and indie-chic I am, and how video evidence suggests that I’d be a much better lover than say, a Rivers Cuomo or Daniel O’Brien.
I’m paraphrasing a bit, but you get the point.
At first, I balanced these comments out with the ones saying “wow, Mike looks better than I thought, considering that on Cracked TV he looks like a fat, fatty fat chubby fat guy with my ass for a toupee.”
But, over time, the part of my brain responsible for blocking out negative Internet comments to keep me from sobbing in the fetal position all day convinced me that people probably masturbate furiously whenever I’m on camera now.
And I’ve got to say, I’m OK with that, as long as you laugh at the same time and use protection (who knows where your hands have been?).
You may be wondering exactly how
Nowadays, it turns out, humans have more brown fat than ever. And scientists theorize that the reason is that our bodies are slowly evolving to combat the current greatest threat to our species: obesity. That’s right folks: WE’RE SUCH FATASSES THAT OUR BODIES ARE EVOLVING TO COMPENSATE FOR IT.
Researchers are calling it “akin to developing a new organ.” Really, it’s to be expected. When we needed to see farther to scan the horizon for predators, we learned to stand upright. When we wanted to stop living in huts made of piled elephant shit, we learned to use tools. And now that our hearts are clogged with chunky turkey gravy, we’re literally growing organic exhaust pipes just to vent some of the excess.
Actually I guess we aren’t “literally” doing that; that would be kind of gross.
Naturally, as a well-respected fatty and known scientist in the field of… that one about how the human body works, I was shipped several crates of the stuff to test for myself. I don’t know who they harvested it from, and I didn’t ask (but my guess would be Oprah).
All I know is, the stuff is incredible. Roll in it, smear it on problem areas, eat it, shoot it, snort it… any way you get this stuff in you, it does the trick.
I haven’t tried it as a sexual lubricant yet (still looking for a lucky lady to assist me in that little experiment), but I imagine my genitals would emerge looking sleeker and more well-defined than ever.
So I’m all for it. Who cares if simple lifestyle changes could have accomplished the same task? The lesson here is that no matter what bad things we do to our bodies, evolution will invent an organ to deal with it.
Go ahead public: smoke that cigarette, eat that burger and leap from that building. I’m sure your body will develop a third lung, pocket of brown fat or pair of giant hairy bat wings before any horrible consequences befall you.
In fact, assuming that the abstract God-being that is Natural Selection will be just as receptive to my opinions as the rest of the world is, I’d like to suggest a few new organs I wouldn’t mind finding in the old meat-fridge (that’s what I call my body).
The Sobriety Gland: A relative of the adrenal gland, the sobriety gland (nestled just behind the left ear) releases a rush of chemicals that immediately cleanses all alcohol from the bloodstream. Its powerful endocrinal cocktail is triggered whenever an authority figure or oncoming car is perceived. If such a gland is biologically infeasible, explosive punches may be substituted.
The Nozzles of Langehans: These follicle-sized nozzles in the male armpit release a visible cloud of pheromones that instantly attract women to the sprayer. Now even loser Internet comedians can walk into a trendy bar, let a cloud rip and be home in time to snuggle up in front of the newest Lost. Naturally, the nozzles are also paired with a small gristle-like valve called simply “the body’s pharmacist” which prevents the contraction of any STDs and causes ejaculate to be lemon-scented.
The Organ Organ: I’ve just really always wanted to play the organ, and it’d be nice if they were more portable.
The Pizza Secreter: More or less self-explanatory, although I should point out that while it can do both thick and thin crust, the thin crust pizzas are secreted from a part of the body that renders them less than appetizing. And don't even get me STARTED on where the chicken wings come from! (It's the butt. The chicken wings come out your butt.)
The Twittersphere: A small, underdeveloped portion of the cerebral cortex that formulates thoughts only in segments of up to 140 characters, and compels the owner to plug their own Twitter feed at the end of any written communication, like a total tool.
When not using flesh as a canvas, Michael serves as head writer for and co-founder of Those Aren't Muskets!
