As safari guides, it's imperative to remember that this is a family attraction. Animals do not mate here. They "wrestle." They "clench." They "frolic." They "romp." They "nuzzle." And of course they "groom" each other, sometimes intimately.
But they don't mate. They don't hump. They don't "do the nasty." Is that understood?
Good. Now go out there and give these wonderful folks an authentic true-life jungle adventure, droppings and all!
A State of Chaos
Why not study the brains of top Florida officials?
October 9, 1985
A true news item: State medical examiners have acknowledged secretly removing parts of the brains of executed prisoners for use in laboratory studies of aberrant behavior.
gainesville—Researchers today announced the expansion of the state's Involuntary Brain Donor Program to include members of the Florida Cabinet, the state Legislature and other qualified public officials.
"This is a tremendous opportunity for a scientific breakthrough," proclaimed Dr. Igor Hans of the University of Florida. "For years people have been wondering what makes politicians act the way they do. Studying their brain cells may unlock this terrible secret."
But several top Florida political figures immediately objected to the plan, calling it "coldhearted, barbaric and just plain icky."
"They're not getting my brain unless they get the governor's," vowed Agriculture Commissioner Doyle Conner.
"Don't worry, they're not getting the governor's," said a spokesman for the governor. "We keep a darn close eye on it."
Scientists argue that the benefits of brain experiments will far outweigh concerns for the privacy and dignity of the deceased. They say it makes more sense to study politicians than convicted murderers.
"Serial killers are a dime a dozen," Dr. Hans said, "but how many Claude Kirks are there in this world?"
Pathologists said that politicians' brains will be preserved in a mixture of formaldehyde and Johnnie Walker Red. Afterward the tissue will be microscopically photographed and dissected, then injected with powerful enzymes made from aspirin and Maxwell House coffee grounds.
To make the brains feel at home, the tests will be conducted in a $150-a-night suite on the top floor of the Tallahassee Hilton.
Dr. Hans said he expects to find striking differences between the brains of politicians and those of other humans.
"They'll be slightly smaller, of course," the famed neurologist said, "but this'll save us a fortune on storage space."
Behavioral scientists have speculated that many officeholders suffer from a cerebral condition known as Milhous Syndrome—a disorder causing the part of the brain that controls modesty, truthfulness and frugality to shrink to the size of a subway token.
Dr. Hans said he will test the theory on his first subject, preferably either a former Margate city commissioner or a Monroe County zoning board member.
Ironically, the donor team is having trouble recruiting experts to work on the landmark project.
"Doctors who wouldn't think twice about examining a bank robber's brain won't set foot in the same lab with a state senator's," Dr. Hans said. "People fear most what they don't understand."
Nationwide, there has been only one documented case of experimentation on the neurons of a political officeholder—a former U.S. congressman who had willed his cerebrum to science.
As part of the experiment, neurologists at Johns Hopkins University placed the congressman's brain on a laboratory table next to a stack of $5o bills. Within seconds, the organ quivered and began inching closer to the money, a phenomenon for which scientists could offer no explanation.
Dr. Hans said he would not attempt to duplicate the controversial Johns Hopkins studies.
"We already know what motivates a brain like that," he shrugged. "We're much more curious about the twisted pathology behind it."
Some ex-officeholders, including several former Florida Cabinet members, expressed "grave concern" that part of their brains already might have been removed without their permission.
However, scientists say that they're doing their best to ascertain that brain donors are actually dead before the organs are taken.
"Sometimes it's a close call," Dr. Hans conceded.
Beer and pizza for everyone, Mr. Governor
June 5, 1987
The Mole People finally adjourned in Tallahassee, emerging squinty-eyed into the sunshine where they are now posing, partying and nearly wrenching their arms patting themselves on the back.
Having committed their largest deeds behind closed doors, the legislators of the great state of Florida would now like you to know what a valiant effort they've made on your behalf.
They passed the biggest tax increase in state history, set up a lottery, and agreed to spend millions more on prisons, indigent health care and water cleanup.
They also passed laws that will legally put handguns into the fists of more drunks, half-wits and fruitcakes than ever before. Despite so-called "safeguards," the Legislature will have no more success keeping licensed pistols from lunatics than it does keeping bad drivers off the highways.
In other ways it was a progressive session because—like them or not—new taxes are the only way to start paying for Florida's explosive growth. The scary part is that the average voter has practically no say in how these revenues will be spent, or who'll get their paws on the money.
Years ago Florida passed its famous Sunshine Laws, ostensibly to take the business of government out of the cloakrooms and corridors. At the time a reform-minded Legislature boldly voted that all meetings of public bodies be held in the open—except, naturally, those of the Legislature itself.
The law that makes it illegal for members of a city council or a school board or a county commission to meet secretly doesn't apply to your faithful representatives in Tallahassee, who this year had their way with $18.7 billion of your money.
How did they do it? We're not exactly sure, since they wouldn't let us in.
True, floor sessions and regular committee meeting are wide open to the press and public, but the real lawmaking doesn't happen there. It happens in private.
Take the controversial new sales tax on services, for instance. It wasn't negotiated on the floor in view of the gallery. It was drafted over beer and pizza at the Tallahassee townhouse of Bob Coker, a lobbyist for a Big Sugar firm. Among those joining the House and Senate leaders in the late-night festivities were key aides to Gov. Bob Martinez.
You remember Bob Martinez, that fellow who campaigned vigorously on a promise of no secret meetings? Remember his indignant TV ads, showing arrogant cracker legislators slamming the door in the public's face? Apparently the governor is not so indignant now.
For a brief moment this session a few senators rebelled. They proposed an amendment that would have required legislators to meet in the open at all times, even when jawboning with the governor.
You can imagine the rapture with which this idea was greeted. Senate Rules Chairman Dempsey Barren and Senate President John Vogt (the King and Crown Prince of the Mole People) snuffed the Sunshine amendment as quickly as possible.
Later Sen. Larry Plummer of South Miami pointedly offered a new version that would have opened all governmental sessions, including "midnight meetings over pepperoni pizza or anything else."
This, too, was flattened by Vogt's gavel.
Think about what it means. These are people who work for you, and whose salaries you pay—yet they won't let you watch what they're doing. It's like having the Maytag repairman lock you out of your own house until he's finished fiddling with your appliances.