Herbert West

Good and evil are purely human inventions from a species that feels compelled to try to ascribe sense and morality to the universe-at-large when the universe-at-large is amoral and uncaring. Trying to live by a code of good and evil is therefore an exercise in futility.

This is not to say that the labels of 'good' and 'evil' are entirely subjective, since so much of humanity tends to think the same way, but simply that the universe as it exists beyond what we can perceive and whitewash with our own standards does not care. And so, more to the point, the last things that a true scientist should be concerned with are the spinnings and trappings of culture-dependent ethics and morals.

As a scientist, my work reflects what is, not what we wish for. The body is a machine, dependent on chemical energy. At death, the machine stops working, but I have found a way to revive it. That is what is.

I'll let Dan worry about whether my actions or my discovery qualify as either 'good' or 'evil' as humanity currently understands the concepts.

(I let this journal go for a really long time. Now I'm just picking and choosing from the previous Theatrical Muse topics. Why not?)

Daniel suggested (rather sarcastically, I felt) that it would be a shame if I lost my sense of humor.

But the true answer is, obviously, sight. While all of the senses have varying degrees of import to a doctor—or a chemist, for that matter—it is sight that I would most sorely miss. So much of my research is dependant upon visual observation, upon seeing the effects (and occasional aftereffects) of my reagent. I believe I could cheerfully lose the lesser four of my senses and continue happily, albeit considerably less aware of the distractions of my environment.

Which, when I think about it, does not seem too terrible a way to spend one’s lifetime. After all, famous composers throughout the centuries have been undaunted by what should be, by all rights, a death sentence for their careers: the onset of hearing-impairment. However, instead of giving up their life’s work as lesser men might when faced with such a prospect, they went on to write some of the greatest music the human race has ever known. And why?

Because they could no longer be distracted by the superfluous cacophony of the outside world, and for the first time could hear their music clearly within the confines of their own heads.

Title: Detention
Word count: 914
Rating: PG-13 ... oh, I was trying so hard for an R rating, really, I swear
Summary: Herbert assumes that obsession is love, has an internal jealousy-induced hissy fit, and Dan is kind of oblivious to just about everything. As usual.
Note: The daydream is really implied here, so you can infer for yourself (and anything you can come up with is probably worse than I could have written). This is about as pretentiously esoteric and metaphysical as I can get.

( 'I will not re-animate the dead' 'Write that one again, Herbert' )

Title: Standard Morbid Details
Rating: PG
Word count: 349

( I thought one came to terms with the questions of death in the first year of medical school )

This requires some explanation, I believe. My associate, Daniel, can be a bit… how should I put this? He often allows himself to become too emotionally involved in our work. He hasn’t learned to put emotional reactions on a back burner, particularly during an emergency. Thus, when Daniel’s emotional capacities are stretched to the breaking point, he generally goes into shock and becomes completely useless.

Now, this can be inconvenient and, I suppose, unpleasant for Daniel. But I have to admit that I enjoy those times, as much as they can be enjoyed. Most humans, I imagine, may obtain a sense of control from someone else’s powerlessness. In an unresponsive state, he never questions me. I never have to convince him of the usefulness of our task, or of how much better off he is in our laboratory than out with some tart who can see only his good looks and his degree, and not the true potential that I see. It doesn’t matter how much taller, heavier, stronger he is than me; I am unequivocally the leader, the person with the answers. I do not have to hope that he will not argue with me in a manner that I cannot refute; I do not have to worry that he will finally keep his promise to break our partnership, leaving me sans assistant.

Those brief periods when he is incapacitated offer me a rare sense of true… security, I suppose. But, to reach that security, Daniel has to suffer a tremendous amount. I admit it does leave me feeling somewhat guilty at times. It is quite the guilty indulgence to enjoy the suffering of one of the few human beings on this Earth that I find tolerable.

Virginity. Ha! What an antiquated notion. Sexual antics are a necessity for reproduction and one’s first time engaging in something that every living thing does is not cause for note or celebration. It means nothing in terms of “coming of age.” There’s nothing “special” about it.

My associate, Daniel, is smirking at me. No, perhaps it’s more of a leer. I’m sure he takes my attitude as definitive proof that I have not “lost my virginity,” as it was so crudely put. He, of course, could probably quote you a date, time, name, and home phone number of the person to whom he lost his.

Lost. Ha. As if we had simply misplaced it and are making a valiant effort to retrieve our innocence. Well, Dan is guided by his hormones, turned easily by firm breasts, smooth skin, and soft hair; thus, he is not to be trusted. He was going to marry Megan, after all. I am, naturally, above something so petty. I feel no need to sleep beside another warm body, to feel false and ephemeral comfort in the arms of another, to relent to a biology that I will soon make obsolete. And I feel no need to glorify it as others do, as there is little glory or appeal in the fumblings of children thrust together through violence and circumstance.

If anything, my virginity was lost to me the first time I inserted the tip of a needle beneath malleable folds of excess skin, pushed to the stiffer muscle below, depressed the stopper, and watched my life’s purpose take its first painful breath beneath my hands. Birth is so much more memorable and stimulating than orgasm.

Self-preservation, naturally. Hah… forgiveness. Such a sentimental concept. No, the self is more important than amicable lies. There are, after all, some things not entirely worthy of forgiveness; of course, I generally find all apologies to be a waste of breath

Although it wouldn’t hurt if Daniel could exercise a little forgiveness, since I’m sure he’s fairly keen on the subject. After all, the deaths of his various romantic entanglements were accidents not my fault in the least. Besides, he’s better off with me.

Title: Renaissance
Rating: PG
Words: 683
Note: Taking a few liberties with 'love at first sight.' :D Dear god, what else would Herbert fall in love with? A woman? Don't be daft.

( Renaissance )

Is there ever a good reason to get blinding drunk?

For myself? No. I prefer to keep my mind clear, as a loss of control of any of my various mental capabilities or good sense could lead to... well, interesting things, I suppose. Of an experimental nature. Such as... oh, I don't know... a little creature with fingers for legs? Or perhaps a dog with the arm and hand of a human being? Actually, those aren't bad ideas... hmmm... Daniel, why are you crossinnnn

As a doctor, I also advise against drinking in excess, though it certainly is a good thing for me that the majority of the rest of the world does not. I doubt we'd have many patients if all of the drunks in the world suddenly became teetotalers. Ha!

Though, as has been pointed out, there are sometimes very good reasons for getting others as drunken as possible. More champagne, Daniel?

Title: Three Days Late
Rating: PG
Length: 616 words
Notes: For glorybox, seeing as she requested Herbert/Dan, though I doubt this is what she had in mind. Dear god, humor. But it was the only idea making itself known, sooooooo... And, yes, this was supposed to be 100-500 words. It's... not. It just kept going. Is that a bad thing?

( And God Bless Us... Everyone! )

Resolutions? That implies that there are things about myself that merit changing. I’m brilliant, I live next to a cemetery, and I’m this close to achieving my life’s goal… do I really need to change anything? Perhaps the company I keep…

Daniel, however, suggests that I attempt to do a number of things in this new year. I suppose, as an observer, Daniel may be able to better identify what I might benefit from working on. Then again, I figure turnabout is fair play this must go both ways, so I gave him his own list this morning. He didn’t seem particularly pleased. Ah, well. He’ll see reason eventually.

In any case, Daniel’s list for me:

1. Get me a new cat – maybe, if you’re a good boy.

2. Refrain from killing and/or bringing the new cat back to life in any way – this only applies if I choose to pacify him with a little vomiting hairball… we shall see.

3. Stop bringing back the dead – absolutely not.

4. Stop using your experiments as stimulants and actually sleep every once and awhile – I do sleep! Once a month is sufficient, really.

5. Get a job – my research is my job.

6. Get a girlfriend – ugh, no.

7. Clean the basement – he means my laboratory. This suggestion does have some merit to it. Filthy down here.

Well. A pet store would have kittens, yes? I suppose I could go… take a look on Daniel’s behalf. What do kittens eat, exactly?

West. Herbert West. I can see that there are a great many people using this forum, so I'll be brief. That, and I have an experiment in progress. Five minutes to simmer should be ample time.

Yes, experiment; I am a medical student scientist and my primary area of study is death. I have been pursuing this topic for many years, and was even able to spend time studying with the legendary Dr. Hans Gruber, until his death (I assure you, any rumors you may have heard are mostly completely untrue!) and have since been continuing my research independently.

My research! Ha! My revolution, truly. You see, I have conquered death! My reagent has brought back a number of living things, including human beings... though my most successful experiments have been on pieces and parts of humans. You'd be surprised at how much a human head can accomplish independent of the body!

I live with my associate, Daniel Cain, who insists that I make it clear that my reagent does bring the dead back to life as zombies with some aggression issues. But the principle is sound.