Max: On Souls

Recently, in an unfriendly religious discussion—topic: abortion; but is there any more religious topic than infant murder? I think not, I’ve read about the plagues of Egypt and the sacrifice of Isaac—I was asked whether or not I believe if I have a soul. My answer was a resounding, yes. My counter-question was, “Do animals have souls?” Not surprisingly, the answer was, absolutely not. It’s no secret that evangelicals beat their pets more than Catholics and atheists combined. I have that statistic lying around here somewhere.

This discussion made me wonder if all humans have souls. My conclusion is, no. Children with the inability to deny God don’t have souls…

…and midgets don’t have souls.

Don’t let the moniker “Little People” blind you to reality. Real people are the only ones with souls, and to quote Butch: “that ain’t no people.”

J. R. R. Tolkien knew that anyone under four and half feet was not human; he called them Hobbits. L. Frank Baum’s political satire The Wizard of Oz segregates these soulless animals to Munchkinland. Do I even need to mention Oompa Loompas? I don’t see souls in those pseudo-humanoids. Agent Orange, there on the left, wants to dip your child in chocolate, roll him to the back room and eat his brain. Scary.

I think George W. Bush was correct when he said, “If it looks like a lame duck, and quacks like a lame duck, it’s a lame duck.” “Butch?” “That ain’t no duck!”

P. T. Barnum, the father of the rollercoaster, intentionally gave us an unsuspecting way to check whether or not someone has a soul. “You have to be this tall to ride this souls-only ride.”

Don’t get me wrong. I think that there’s a place for everything. I just want to put everything in its place.

Leonardo da Vinci said that “form follows function.” With the insight of da Vinci, we need to take that soulless midget form and put it to its real function: party roving sombrero salsa platter.

But that’s just my two chips.