Wanna hear a fantastic–but true–story?
On a dreary Seattle day in May 1992, a brave dark knight hoisted himself upon a giant papier-mâché derrière and spoke truth into a flat and listless world:
I like big butts and I cannot lie
“Baby Got Back”, Sir Mix-a-lot,MACK DADDY (1992)
You other brothers can’t deny
That when a girl walks in with an itty bitty waist
And a round thing in your face
You get sprung, want to pull up tough
‘Cause you notice that butt was stuffed
Deep in the jeans she’s wearing…
“I like big butts and I cannot lie”–the 8 words that inspired an entire generation. Well, maybe not the whole generation, but at least every boy between the ages of 10 and 14 in 1992.
But what happens when that sub-generation of boys become men decades on? Well, as part of that cohort, I can answer that question for you.
For the most part, nothing out of the ordinary.
Deep down, however, we all have a longing–nay, a yearning–to one day be like our hero Mix-A-Lot, and be able to proclaim to the whole world our appreciation of bubblicious backsides.1Mix-A-Lot implies that his love is directed towards female rumps in particular, but that’s not a hard and fast rule. Like some junior high version of Treadstone, we’re just sleeper agents waiting to be activated.
Now, I have a friend who was also part of this particular segment of the population. Like the rest of us, he had every ----- line of that song committed to memory. And also like the rest of us, he grew older2While “he grew up” sounds much more fluid, I think implying that there was an increase in maturity level would be inaccurate and misleading in this case. as time passed. But instead of following our collective dream, he caved under the pressure of reality and became a doctor.
Wait, wait, not that kind of doctor. He’s not like Dr. Dana Scully from Fox’s The X-Files, who makes ----- sure to let you know that “it’s okay because [she’s] a medical doctor.”3https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tvAYnFh0Zdo I’m sure he wouldn’t want anyone getting the wrong idea now.
True, any flight he takes automatically has a doctor on board, but not the kind the flight attendant really meant to ask for when that one guy had a heart attack. They really do need to train them to be more specific. Save us all a very awkward situation.4Okay, this part is NOT a true story. But I’m sure its a scenario that’s ran through the minds of plenty of non-medical doctors.
No, he’s more of the philosophical variety. You know, the kind that actually use their brains in the course of earning their credentials.
He is–or at least was–a scientist.
Our paths crossed when we both were working in the same MRI lab in Honolulu (Hawai’i, of course), developing custom pulse sequences together. Now, it’s important to understand that the MRI crowd has a sense of acronymic humor, at least when it comes to naming new techniques, etc.
For example, two of the key methods we used in our research were called “Generalized Autocalibrating Partially Parallel Acquisitions (GRAPPA),” and “Controlled Aliasing In Parallel Imaging Results In Higher Acceleration (CAIPIRINHA)”. If you were more of an alcoholic, it wouldn’t require me pointing out to you that these are, in fact, the names of two adult mixed beverages.
Clever.
And who doesn’t appreciate a good bit o’ wit every now and then. Certainly that guy did.
Sadly, though, my friend didn’t quite thrive as an MRI scientist. After almost a year of inefficient toiling in the lab, he had finally accomplished enough where he was able to start thinking about making his first contribution to the field (like me, he had previously worked in MRI’s scientific granddaddy, NMR, not MRI itself).
When he started to write his paper, it was pretty evident that he was excited that it was at last his turn to join in on the phonetic fun. If this was his only shot at flexing his creative muscles, he told me, then he was “sure as shit going to make it count.”
Impressively, after engaging in what could only be described as a mashup of scientific Scrabble and a Ouija board stuck in middle school, he was able to come up with a completely accurate description of the work at hand, while taking one step closer to his destiny.
Yes, future scientists, engineers, and medical professionals were forever going to remember him as the creator of “Accelerated Spectral-Spatial Multiplexing And SuscepTibility Artifact Reduction.”
He’s no proctologist, but that didn’t stop him from him becoming…”the ASS-MASTAR.”
Or, more accurately, from almost becoming the ASS-MASTAR.
Enter our boss, Vandy,5More or less kind of his real name. who is probably more worthy of the nickname The Dude than any other alias. Both in appearance and attitude, Vandy was straight out of the Big Lebowski. While professional, having been born and raised in Hawai’i, he definitely had the laid back island vibe, and a pretty decent sense of humor to match.
When approached with a draft of this ground-breaking manuscript–which at this point was basically just the magnificent title and the list of authors–Vandy did indeed get a good laugh out of it. Apparently, it reminded him of one of the monster trucks from the Mike Judge/Luke Wilson classic, Idiocracy.6Watch the scene for yourself here. And of course, naming anything in the scientific realm “ASS-MASTAR” was just inherently humorous.
After getting his giggles mostly out, he delivered the solemn news, albeit while still chuckling: “Man, you can’t name your paper that. But maybe it would work for a conference poster…”
The heartbreak hung heavy in the air.
However, it was evident that that last part of what Vandy said left a glimmer of hope where it probably shouldn’t have.
Eventually the paper was renamed something more appropriate.7Anderson, Robert J., Benedikt A. Poser, and V. Andrew Stenger. “Simultaneous multislice spectral‐spatial excitations for reduced signal loss susceptibility artifact in BOLD functional MRI.” Magnetic resonance in medicine 72.5 (2014): 1342-1352. Mind-numbingly boring, informative, inoffensive–I suppose some people consider those good things, right?
Anyways, in the middle of the process of fully fleshing out his experiment and forming it into a full-fledged journal article, we had our big annual “ISMRM”8International Society for Magnetic Resonance in Medicine, www.ismrm.org conference–the conference in the field of MRI.
A condensed version of ASS-MASTAR–with the new, very unsexy title–was submitted and was accepted to be presented in the form of an electronic poster, or “e-poster.”
Now of all the formats available–traditional poster, e-poster, and a 12-minute talk–the e-poster probably had the lowest visibility of the three, as it was pretty much just a Powerpoint presentation that the interested party could click through at their own leisure during a specific 1-hour window.
Even by the most optimistic estimates, that meant that probably a maximum of 5 people would ever see such a presentation. So what better time to throw in a little Easter egg at the end to reward those few souls taking an interest in his work, right (see Figure 1 below)?
Wrong.
The night before my friend’s 1-hour slot to present the undercover ASS-MASTAR, Vandy wanted to meet up and briefly go through the presentation together just to make sure everything looked good.
In a textbook example of an “unforced error”, they continued past Slide 29, and Vandy seemed genuinely surprised by what he found on Slide 30.
“Dude! You can’t include that in the presentation! Most people would find it humorous, but there are a lot of Brits with sticks up their asses in this business. I can only imagine them harrumphing indignantly if they saw this. What were you thinking?!?”
And in response:
“YOU!!! It was your idea to save it for the conference. How the hell was I supposed to know I couldn’t take you for your word?!? Goddammit, Vandy, don’t blame me for bad judgement when I was just following your suggestion!”
But it didn’t matter. In the end, Slide 30 was censored.
The ASS-MASTAR would never see the light of day. And just like that–whoosh!–the dream of an entire generation of early-90s 12 year old boys was snuffed out by responsibility and reason.
The point of the story is, it’s easier to ask for forgiveness than ask for permission.
And now, if you’ll forgive me if I seem a bit obsessed with the matter, but as ASS-MASTAR of this domain, don’t count on me every asking permission to speak freely on all things rear-related…
By now, you’re probably wondering who this genius-before-his-time friend of mine was.
His name? Dr. Keyser Söze.9OF COURSE it’s me I’m talking about in the story. Who else is in this ----- world is formerly-ish a scientist, witty AF, and is pre-occupied with dat ass? P.S. #ThirdPersonHumbleBrag.
True story.
Now, like me–er, I mean “Dr. Söze”–you can be the MASTAR of your own ASS with these sweet, sweet yoga pants! Perfect for doing side-bends and sit-ups. Just please don’t lose that butt.
-
ASS-MASTAR Yoga Leggings$40.00
Footnotes & References:
Leave a Reply