Blurb: Dr Milk is a genius. Unfortunately, the rest of the scientific community did not agree. Persecuted for his ambition, discriminated against because of a few misunderstandings, Dr Milk was forced to work unpaid for an old college friend.
But with the help of a shadowy corporation and a married woman named Hannah, Dr Milk finally achieves the breakthrough he always wanted; a breakthrough that comes with some not entirely unwelcome side effects.
Excerpt from Expanding & Overflowing:
I don’t mean to brag, but when I was young, I thought I was going to make history. I was something of a precocious child. At the age of seven, I was conducting experiments in the garage of my family home. I pestered my parents to take me to every science fair and convention I could find, and although they knew nothing about science, they encouraged me, buying me science equipment and books, and even setting up a mini laboratory for me when we moved.
Naturally, I excelled at school. I was top of every class I took, sat all my exams ahead of time, graduated with honors, sailed through post grad study and landed a position with a top research institute. At the age of 26 I was sure that I was on the brink of greatness and that I would soon be leading scientific breakthroughs that would change our world completely.
It turned out that I was wrong.
Not about being a genius. I am convinced of that, and, one day soon, everyone in the world will recognize me for the genius that I am.
No, I was wrong about other people. I thought lesser minds would be keen to stand aside, to follow my teaching, to celebrate me and support me as I helped to push back the frontiers of human knowledge. I thought that all you needed was scientific knowledge and a capacity for hard work. But it turns out that more importantly, you need connections, and the ‘correct’ opinions.
I had always believed that there should be no boundaries to the areas of study that a truly gifted scientist should be able to enter. But I soon discovered that there were all these unwritten rules that no-one had explained to me, but that everyone seemed terrified to break.
This realization came to me when I was dismissed, unceremoniously, from the institute. My crime? Well, I had a theory that lactating women suffered a drop in IQ while they were experiencing enhanced prolactin levels, but that the IQ fall could compensated for by clitoral stimulation.
Apparently, setting up an experiment to test this theory and putting an advert online looking for lactating volunteers was a ‘breach of the rules’.
All great men have to endure trials of course, and I didn’t allow this setback to derail my efforts. And it was no surprise to me, given my obvious abilities and qualifications, when I was recruited by one of the top colleges (I am not legally allowed to tell you which one, unfortunately). I had assumed that in the hallowed halls of scientific academia, there were no constraints on the extent to which a brilliant mind is allowed to roam free. Unfortunately, I was wrong.
A month after joining the college, I put forward a ground-breaking paper exploring the mathematical links between a woman’s sexual attractiveness and the size of her breasts. But instead of congratulating me on my work, the journal contacted the college, there was an investigation, an interview and then a perfunctory letter informing me that I was being dismissed for having brought the college into disrepute, although it was never explained to me how I had done so.
I will admit to being a little perplexed. Had the world gone mad? Was no-one interested in science any longer? It was while I was considering my options that I had an invitation from an old professor, who had heard about my unfortunate experience and said that he was willing to give me a chance. I was grateful, of course, although as I pointed out to him, the institute that he wanted to give me a position at was not particularly prominent, so he really should be thanking me for agreeing to work there.
Things went well initially. I had some difficulty persuading those already working there to accept my clearly superior abilities, but that soon passed, and we settled into a relatively harmonious relationship. But sadly, that came to an abrupt end when I set up a new experiment. Had I been allowed to complete it, my work could have produced major break throughs in our understanding of physiology, reproductive capacity and human interaction. Sadly, my vision was not matched by that of the institute’s board, who rejected my request for funding and summoned me to a disciplinary meeting.
Professor Jones called my experiment an outrage. Professor Harris said that I was an embarrassment to the institute. Professor Carter said that I was a pervert masquerading as a scientist.
And why?
My experiment proposed to monitor the quality of breast milk and its effects on stimulating erections in the male. Apparently, they were unhappy that I had advertised for volunteers on what they described as a ‘sex site’ and that this had brought the reputation of the institute into question. I replied that I was unaware that the institute had a reputation. This, apparently, sealed my firing.
At this point I despaired of ever getting the chance to pursue my scientific dreams. I spent a few months working at a bra factory, while writing my authoritative book on the History of Breast Feeding, but one day I had an email from an old college friend, Laurence.
The email was an invitation. Apparently, Laurence had been working for a laboratory that was technically speaking what they call ‘off the grid’. He had heard about my unfortunate experiences, and he offered commiserations. But he also said that I could be just the man they were looking for.
I was reluctant to get involved in the world of research again, having been treated so unfairly, but I couldn’t deny that I was feeling the old research itch again, so I decided to go along and check it out.
