More than two years have passed, dear reader, since we brought you a new work by this blog’s most popular (and only) guest author — the esteemed “Dr. Swinefat Pink.” His previous work is memorialized in a permanent sidebar of this humble blog.
The good doctor never explains his absences. It’s been rumoured that this time he was imprisoned in an undisclosed country because of his work on a secret mission. We may never know. Anyway, we are pleased to report that Dr.Swinefat Pink is back again! He introduces his latest in his own words:
At last it can be told! From the studios of Retro-Boldfib-Liar (“Ars Gratia Darkness”) comes the cinema event of the century!
With no further introduction, we proudly present Dr. Pink’s latest:
Our story opens in San Diego, where young Gerbo, a squeaky-voiced geology student and accomplished word-fiddler, is beavering away at his MA in Earth Science. When he receives an invitation to lecture on paleo-magnetism at a local IDEA Club, the unsuspecting Gerbo is delighted and, armed with a newly-minted powerpoint presentation, eagerly trots along for the event — but only to discover it’s a trap set by cunning crypto-Creationists, who gerb-nap the hapless budding geologist and sell him up the river!
Smuggled in manacles to Seattle, Gerbo vainly protests that he is a freethinker, but to no avail: he is sold to Westie Gored, the brutal master of the notorious Tooter Plantation. Given the slave name of ‘Prat’ and bludgeoned almost senseless by their blather, Gerbo is forced to toil 16 hours a day chain-ganged in the insalubrious Quote-Mines of ENVy, wrenching data points out of context from PLOS ONE with his bare hands. And woe betide the slave who does not fill his daily quota of distortions and misrepresentations — for such must then face a brutal flogging from the Behe Cat o’ Nine Flagella!
Fed on nothing more than the thin gruel of junk DNA, and barely able to cover his intellectual nakedness with threadbare scraps of religious apologetics, Gerbo almost loses the will to live. But his word-fiddling talent for fashioning unfathomable pretzels out of distorted logic has come to the attention of another Discoveroid, Judge Klingon, who sets him a new and even more arduous task: rewriting the Dover decision into a Creationist victory!
And while working on this interminable screed, Gerbo falls in love with Annie, the lab-slave forced to pleasure the Tooter masters in the unspeakable Greenscreen Cabin. Desperate to win his own freedom and hers, Gerbo writes increasingly bizarre and incomprehensible blog posts in the hope that their very incredulity will alert someone — anyone! — in the outside world that such tosh could only be penned against his will by a man held in bondage. But alas, Gerbo finds that he can’t out-crazy the Tooter masters.
And finally, Gerbo goes completely deranged himself. Reduced to a gibbering wreck by 12 years of churning out asinine analogies, insane syllogisms, Byzantine legal arguments, obtuse opinions, idiotic intuitions and moronic metaphysics, Gerbo is discarded by the heartless Tooters as a worthless, burned-out husk.
History does not record under which rock Gerbo then crawled to hide his shame …
Copyright © 2016. The Sensuous Curmudgeon. All rights reserved.
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The Sensuous Curmudgeon 
Hmmmm. You must be working with a couple of my old co-authors, Ernest and Julio…
Damn! Since the untimely departure of the DI’s celebrated Attack Gerbil, I have painfully made my way through the first 4 stages of grief and was on the point of embracing final Acceptance–but this reminder has thrown me back to initial Denial.
Caaaaaaseyyyyy! Come back!
There are some jobs and employees that you wonder how they got connected, and why oh why that person would dain to do such a task. Blogging and reporting sounds easy, until you need to cover the same topic over and over and over. This story helps explains the constant throw-up posts we’d seen from Gerbilman.
I have read somewhere that most preachers, not just Catholic priests, want to get out of the religion biz, but can’t because it’s the only thing they know. But not Casey Luskin, he escaped! He’s free, free! Free at last, free at last, the Lord [oops Designer] be praised, he’s free at last!
I miss the Gerbil, having been most helpfully savaged by him by name at a crucial moment in the UK’s battles against creationism.
But could someone please explain to Dr Pink the difference between incredulity and incredibility?