Excuse me professor, but there’s a fly in my thesis
Scott Siera

When I first set out to research the brain and nervous system, I was enchanted by the prospects of unearthing the innermost secrets of one of the most fascinating fields in science. I had no idea I’d become an insect farmer instead. You see, in a stroke of brilliance, probably following a round of cocktails, scientists decided that studying the developmental biology of several generations of humans would not only be inconveniently slow, but could also have the tendency to violate basic human rights and dignity. Instead, the scientific community elected to use various animal species as models for study, including the immensely popular species of fruit fly, Drosophila Melanogaster, a name derived from arcane Latin. Drosophila Melano, of course, means “a,” while gaster means “little insect that remains in your kitchen months after you’ve thrown away the produce on which it arrived.” For the sake of simplicity, Drosophila Melanogaster is often referred to as Drosophila, and better known as “Hank” to its closest friends.

According to folk legend and several “reputable” textbooks, when modern science was truly blossoming, and replacing conventional sorcery and witchcraft, the laboratory of Thomas “Scooter” Hunt Morgan and friends¨ found Drosophila to be a useful model for studying inheritance. I personally suspect that old Scooter was fond of mushy, overripe bananas, and late one night, he found a convenient way to dispose of the swarm of fruit flies inhabiting his office. Nowadays, many a laboratory will be adorned with thousands of bottles of Drosophila, much like a collection of picturesque snow globes, enhanced by features such as little red eyes and an incessant buzzing sound.

After working with flies for a while, I’ve made some shocking discoveries. Imagine how happy I’d be if these discoveries actually related to the research I’m doing:

1. Fruit flies in research do not eat fruit. This is not a misprint. Laboratory fruit flies eat yeast paste, an appetizing mixture of dry yeast and water. If only The Weekly World News knew this juicy little tidbit...
2. Caring for fruit flies is like caring for children, complete with late-night feedings and constantly changing the media in which the flies reside (this media can quickly get messy and start to leak). Parents who have had to care for several thousand children simultaneously will know what I’m talking about.
3. Elvis is alive, well, and working as a technician in my lab. Well, I guess I’m not telling the truth here. Everybody knows that Elvis is alive, so this isn’t really a shocking discovery. I was really just confirming the obvious.

Furthermore, despite its tedious nature, fruit fly research has taught me several useful life skills apart from procrastination. Several days ago, my girlfriend called me in the midst of a crisis. Fruit flies had infested her kitchen. Armed with what might pass for scientific knowledge, I was able to calmly describe the method for constructing fruit fly traps out of materials that you can often find lying around the house. For the benefit of those readers who might be living in fruit fly infested environments, here are the instructions: you will need a small trash can, some cheesecloth, and a cold drink. Place the trashcan in the area where the fruit flies are the most numerous. Crumple the cheesecloth into a tight wad, and throw it into the trashcan. Enjoy the cold drink as you realize that there really is nothing you can do about your fruit fly problem. This strategy has worked for countless graduate students.

Now, there may be some animal lovers out there who find fruit flies endearing, who have reserved a special place in their hearts for these red-eyed, six-legged darlings. After all, the very existence of each fruit fly is fraught with peril. The often blissful fly lifestyle (eat, mate, eat some more, mate some more) is tainted by the possibility of being gassed unconscious, intensely examined under bright lights and a microscope, and perhaps hacked to pieces and immersed in noxious chemicals. Other flies slowly perish, trapped in small, dark bottles until they expire. Indeed, the tragic lifestyle of the fruit fly might generate sympathy for such simple, innocent creatures. They’re animals. They have rights. Yes, they are animals. But if we start granting protective rights to species as lowly as the fruit fly, it is only a matter of time before we start to grant similar rights to creatures such as lawyers and politicians. For those who truly feel that we must take strides to protect the common fruit fly and halt fly research, I’ll send you a mushy old banana to keep in your office.