The Photonics Center is by far the best enigma on campus. There are some good ones — how to use a degree from the School of Hospitality Administration or the possibility of a mob connection with the School of Management — but Photonics wins. It’s big and glassy, and we all know the government is conducting experiments on the top three floors.
The myths of what the government could possibly be doing on those forbidden floors are endless. Most of the folklore I’ve heard sounds a lot like Charlie and the Chocolate Factory or Men in Black rip-offs. Though I have seen someone walking around the lobby with a purple top hat, I think the government would rather cure cancer or make a new bomb than concoct the perfect chocolate treat.
I know this because I work in the Photonics Center, where I watch YouTube videos and eat chips at the reception desk. I see the government scientists taking the elevator up and down everyday, and they aren’t wearing black suits and sunglasses. Still, the look in their eyes is one of juicy mystery, as if there are no experiments, only secrets we aren’t supposed to know: They know something that would bring the world to its knees.
Two of my friends told me that the one time they went into the Photonics Center, they accidentally got off on one of the infamous floors. There, they found several doorways blocked by tiny steel fences. Their theory: The gates were holding in Manpigs, a new animal the government was breeding.
Really? Manpigs? They couldn’t come up with something better? There could potentially be real-life Flubber up there and they came up with Manpigs? Their reasoning was that the gates were small enough to be stepped over by a man but not small enough for a pig. My question: What can be stepped over by a pig? I’ve seen Babe: Pig in the City, and according to that, pigs belong in farms and only step over poop, which they do a lot. I was offended. I immediately cut my friends out of my life for being so uncreative.
Still, I was curious. One day, I got up from my cubicle and set forth to explore.
The man who is my boss asked, “Who are you?”
“I work for you,” I said. He looked at me quizzically.
“Do you know anything about Manpigs?” I asked. Then I was fired. That didn’t stop me.
When I got to the top floor, a chill ran down my spine. In stepping over one of the tiny fences, I expected to trigger some sort of rolling boulder, scarab attack or other Indiana Jones-like situation. Nothing. Disappointed, I walked up the stairs. The air grew thin and I couldn’t see a thing. I told myself not to be scared, that the government had never hurt anyone, and I would be fine. Then I saw it: A creature with crooked teeth, buggy eyes and a curly tail sat in front of me. At first I thought it was Mr. Bean, but then I knew — it was a Manpig.
“Ooyay are-yay oo-yay?” said the creature. Pig Latin has always been difficult for me, and this was no exception. I tried to tell him through charades that I was Jewish and did not find him appetizing.
The Mr. Beanpig opened his mouth and let out the sound of a farting giraffe. I think it was a laugh. He insisted I meet his family.
There were thousands of them: hideous creatures, some resembling George Lopez, some Celine Dion. They explained to me that they were part of a botched experiment done by the Reagan administration. They were supposed to get wings, but something went terribly awry. Now they live here and are in charge of naming streets. They told me the other floors had laser tag and a chocolate waterfall.
Gross. This whole time we thought the world was being saved when really it was just a bunch of mistakes Reagan made being hidden in a building. Big deal, I’m sure there are a lot of those. Despite the Manpigs making me their queen, I left.
I’m not saying PETA needs to free these things, but my experience made me wonder. When can the Manpigs leave their air-conditioned facility and get to see all the cool things they live around, like the Mass Pike or Beijing Cafe? The government is embarrassed by their existence, but think about all the other things the government has to be embarrassed about — no one is locking those people up in a building.
There are probably a thousand species of man-animals that we don’t know about. I hope that one day we’ll be able to live in harmony with the Manpigs and get to eat yummy government-administered chocolate. The question remains: When will the world be ready for what the Photonics building has to offer?
Sarah Shanfield, a junior in the College of Communication, is a weekly columnist for The Daily Free Press. She can be reached at shansa@bu.edu
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