'The Chaff' honours past 'Monkey Citizen' winners - The Chaff with Scott Stephenson
Never have we seen a monkey more valiant than Albert III, the long-tailed macaque that dared to defy the heavens, only to be thwarted in the most explosive fashion. Today, we gather our hearts and our wits to commemorate this small, fuzzy astronaut - not just for his fleeting time on this planet, but for his fearless foray into the cosmic unknown. In a world teeming with mundane, earth-bound heroes, let us never forget the importance of our monkey champions, especially those that took the ultimate leap for science and bananas.
While Monkey Christmas may be the designated day for stuffing stockings with banana chips and celebrating the primate patriots among us, the legacy of Albert III deserves year-round reverence. His story, though brief and, let’s say, kinetically enhanced, teaches us something profound about courage. Most heroes march into battle with boots on their feet and steel resolve; Albert launched into the vast abyss with nothing but a prehensile tail, an iron will and a stunning lack of awareness of the fate that awaited him.
But we mustn’t dwell on the catastrophic fireworks show that cut his journey short. Albert III was more than a victim of premature rocket combustion - he was a symbol, a beacon, for those of us who dream of defying gravity. He may not have returned with space rocks, but he gave us something far more valuable: the knowledge that even the smallest creatures can leave the biggest impressions, especially when they’re thrown skyward at alarming velocities.
For 10 glorious seconds, Albert III tasted the infinite. Yes, Albert’s mission was more than just collecting scientific data. It was about reaching for the stars, despite overwhelming odds. His predecessors, the first two Alberts, fell victim to suffocation and faulty parachutes. Yet, Albert III, undeterred by the tragic fates of those before him, boldly took his seat in that fateful V-2 rocket. Was he aware of the tragic demise of his predecessors? Probably not. But if he was, we imagine he’d have tossed caution to the wind with a defiant screech.
A macaque among rhesus monkeys, Albert III brought style to space exploration. While his predecessors may have launched with stoic resignation, Albert III would have gone out with panache. His tail may have been long, but his courage stretched even further, forever etching his name among the greats of space exploration.
Now, as we reflect on the brave legacy of Albert III, it seems fitting to bring up another important tradition here at The Chaff: our prestigious “Monkey Citizen of the Year” award. Albert, of course, would have been a prime candidate - if only he’d made it past the 10-second mark. But each year, we honour a different monkey that exemplifies the monkey qualities we hold dear: perseverance, gumption and an absolute disregard for common sense. Let’s take a look at some past recipients of this illustrious title.
Who could forget Dunkie Laroux, the silverback gorilla which once heroically saved a shipment of overripe bananas from being sold at a supermarket by hurling the entire crate through the window? Some said he was just hungry, but we at The Chaff recognize a fruit crusader when we see one. Looking good, Dunkie.
Then, there was Big Berfa, the squirrel monkey that, despite her small stature, managed to orchestrate the largest primate jailbreak in zoo history. Leading a ragtag band of escapees, she darted from enclosure to enclosure, unfastening latches with unparalleled dexterity. Her story was later turned into a film collaboration between Quentin Tarantino and Pixar Studios called Cutthroat Jail Monkey. It holds the record for most “throat cuts” in a movie. Hyper-violent fun for the whole family!
And let us not forget Dr. Goofballs, the esteemed chimpanzee which briefly took over a lab experiment and produced
data so accurate that the human scientists retired.
These are just a few examples of the many simian luminaries that have earned the coveted title of “Monkey Citizen of the Year”.
Albert III, had he not been unceremoniously rocketed into oblivion, would undoubtedly have found his name among them. Perhaps not for his scientific contributions, but certainly for his bravery in the face of great personal risk and total ignorance of what a rocket does.
As we now look to the stars and beyond, let us always remember that before humans donned their space helmets and moonwalked on the moon, it was monkeys like Albert III that paved the way - or at least made the attempt to. Albert III may have exploded, but his legacy lingers in every celestial banana that twinkles in the night sky. Here’s to our monkey heroes, and to the day when every macaque, chimp and gorilla gets their chance to reach for the stars and come back in one piece.