Tim, the Obsessive Researcher.
Tim Low loved Biology more than anything. He read every Biology book he could find cover-to-cover, taking notes and writing article after article. It consumed him until one rainy day. He decided to take a break from his research to watch a little television, which was unusual for Tim. He wasn’t one for television. He had his research and that was enough for him.
He channel surfed for hours, unable to find anything to catch his interest. Suddenly, he came upon a documentary on the BBC about pirates, Blackbeard: The Real Pirates of the Caribbean. It was like a cog clicked into place in his brain, his synapses, lighting fast, realizing there were other things he could learn and research. Day and night he researched, taking notes, spending hours and hours in the library reading every book on pirates they had. He soon began losing sleep, choosing instead to read and write articles on pirates, particularly Blackbeard. A few weeks later, he started to forget to eat, losing weight, looking bony and worrying his friends and family.
Try as they might, they couldn’t deter him for researching. They couldn’t convince him to take a few hours to sleep or a few minutes to eat. They tried everything they could, even giving him replacement meal shakes, which went unopened. They finally gave up, while quietly keeping an eye on his health.
A month into his research on pirates, he clicked link after link about Blackbeard, printing out information. He clicked on a link that didn’t take him to any information on pirates. Instead, it took him to an article about the Brazilian city of Tefé. Again, his synapses lit up like a firework show, his brain firing off ideas at a mile a minute.
He changed his focus once again and began to read about the city, taking notes and read all he could before he moved on to researching the whole country of Brazil. He learned about the culture, about Carnival, and their love of soccer.
Another month went by. Brazil was all he thought about and read about. He began to sleep a few hours a day, and began to eat again. He spent days in the library reading all the books he could. On one of his library days, after picking up the last of the books about Brazil, the found himself a table in the “no talking” section of the library. Before he could sit down or place his books on the table, he found another book sitting there. His arms grew tired from holding the heavy books, his shoulder aching from the laptop’s weight in its soft leather case. The book was The Winter’s Tale, by Shakespeare.
He set his armload of books on the table and his laptop bag on the floor next to him. He abandoned his research on Brazil and began to read the found book. He checked it out and read it again and again before he began to dissect the language, learning about iambic pentameter, trying his hand at using it, getting frustrated and abandoning the idea. He then moved on to Shakespeare himself, from his birth in Stratford-Upon-Avon, to his theatre company, The Globe Theater, to his death in 1616. He devoured every bit of information he could, particularly captivated by the theory that all of Shakespeare’s works were ghostwritten.
Two months went by during his Shakespeare research, a mis-clicked link lead him to the artist, Anthony Robert Klitz. Tim learned about his fondness for cityscapes and Tim’s synapses again exploded with fervor and he began to research the artist. He took notes about ever painting Klitz did, keeping a printout in a folder labeled with his name, like he did with all his other research. He learned all about Klitz’s life, about his studying to become an architect, to finally his 2000 death in Dublin.
He obsessive studied all these things, wanting to soak up all the information his could. He wanted to fill his brain like a safe full of money and expensive jewels. It was a few weeks later that he began to feel depressed. He couldn’t figure it out. Why do I feel so empty? So hallow? His heart ached, he felt as if he was walking through sludge, going through the motions. This dark feeing went on for weeks until he realized something was missing.
He returned from the library, where he tried desperately to fill the hallow feeling inside himself, to find a new biology book on his bed. It was his favorite kind- thick, full of unread and new information and hardcover. He then realized what was missing from his life. He realized he had completely abandoned his first love, biology.
He vowed then, standing in the middle of his small but cozy room, to never give up on biology. Biology filled him with joy, never made him feel hallow and sludgey. He told himself no matter what else he researched; he would always come back to biology.
He channel surfed for hours, unable to find anything to catch his interest. Suddenly, he came upon a documentary on the BBC about pirates, Blackbeard: The Real Pirates of the Caribbean. It was like a cog clicked into place in his brain, his synapses, lighting fast, realizing there were other things he could learn and research. Day and night he researched, taking notes, spending hours and hours in the library reading every book on pirates they had. He soon began losing sleep, choosing instead to read and write articles on pirates, particularly Blackbeard. A few weeks later, he started to forget to eat, losing weight, looking bony and worrying his friends and family.
Try as they might, they couldn’t deter him for researching. They couldn’t convince him to take a few hours to sleep or a few minutes to eat. They tried everything they could, even giving him replacement meal shakes, which went unopened. They finally gave up, while quietly keeping an eye on his health.
A month into his research on pirates, he clicked link after link about Blackbeard, printing out information. He clicked on a link that didn’t take him to any information on pirates. Instead, it took him to an article about the Brazilian city of Tefé. Again, his synapses lit up like a firework show, his brain firing off ideas at a mile a minute.
He changed his focus once again and began to read about the city, taking notes and read all he could before he moved on to researching the whole country of Brazil. He learned about the culture, about Carnival, and their love of soccer.
Another month went by. Brazil was all he thought about and read about. He began to sleep a few hours a day, and began to eat again. He spent days in the library reading all the books he could. On one of his library days, after picking up the last of the books about Brazil, the found himself a table in the “no talking” section of the library. Before he could sit down or place his books on the table, he found another book sitting there. His arms grew tired from holding the heavy books, his shoulder aching from the laptop’s weight in its soft leather case. The book was The Winter’s Tale, by Shakespeare.
He set his armload of books on the table and his laptop bag on the floor next to him. He abandoned his research on Brazil and began to read the found book. He checked it out and read it again and again before he began to dissect the language, learning about iambic pentameter, trying his hand at using it, getting frustrated and abandoning the idea. He then moved on to Shakespeare himself, from his birth in Stratford-Upon-Avon, to his theatre company, The Globe Theater, to his death in 1616. He devoured every bit of information he could, particularly captivated by the theory that all of Shakespeare’s works were ghostwritten.
Two months went by during his Shakespeare research, a mis-clicked link lead him to the artist, Anthony Robert Klitz. Tim learned about his fondness for cityscapes and Tim’s synapses again exploded with fervor and he began to research the artist. He took notes about ever painting Klitz did, keeping a printout in a folder labeled with his name, like he did with all his other research. He learned all about Klitz’s life, about his studying to become an architect, to finally his 2000 death in Dublin.
He obsessive studied all these things, wanting to soak up all the information his could. He wanted to fill his brain like a safe full of money and expensive jewels. It was a few weeks later that he began to feel depressed. He couldn’t figure it out. Why do I feel so empty? So hallow? His heart ached, he felt as if he was walking through sludge, going through the motions. This dark feeing went on for weeks until he realized something was missing.
He returned from the library, where he tried desperately to fill the hallow feeling inside himself, to find a new biology book on his bed. It was his favorite kind- thick, full of unread and new information and hardcover. He then realized what was missing from his life. He realized he had completely abandoned his first love, biology.
He vowed then, standing in the middle of his small but cozy room, to never give up on biology. Biology filled him with joy, never made him feel hallow and sludgey. He told himself no matter what else he researched; he would always come back to biology.