Incarnation
By Milt Shook
Once upon a time there was a man named
Phineas.
I’m laughing here, but what does “once upon a time” mean, anyway? It’s in so many of your cute little stories, but have you ever thought about what it means? It’s just so much babble. First of all, there is no such thing as “time,” to speak of; that’s just something you people use to mark the distance between life and death. And frankly, you would live a whole lot longer if you simply abolished it, and lived your life not thinking about it. Have you ever noticed that, as you get older, time seems to speed by much faster? That’s a function of your obsession with it, you know. Abolish the concept and, ironically, you’ll live longer and happier.
I would also point out that Phineas is
most certainly is not a man. But I’ll retain the term, because it works by way
of description, since you people are simply incapable of understanding what
Phineas actually is; your perceptive skills are extremely limited. “Man” is
what Phineas created, and while he says he created you people in his image,
he’s speaking in grand hyperbole. He’s not a miracle worker, by any means; he’s
not capable of creating another Phineas. Therefore, if you’re a man, he
couldn’t possibly be a man.
So, how would I describe him? By human
standards, he’s pretty much impossible to describe, although he’s considered
pretty much average where I’m from. He’s my boss, however, so keep that n the
down low. Not that you’ll ever meet him; he tends to keep to himself.
I know that referring to him by his
actual name, Phineas, confuses you as well. You people have so many names for
him, and they crack us up around here. I mean, let me assure you, he’s not a
“god.” He runs this place, of course, but he has a wife, six kids and a little
too much debt and anxiety, just like everyone else. If you ever see him – and
again, it’s not very likely -- just call him Phineas; he absolutely hates those
other names. He used to tolerate them, but frankly, too many humans have abused
them, and his good nature. And let’s be real; you people do invoke them under
the most inappropriate circumstances. And it’s not just those times when you
shout for him to damn something. It also upsets him when you ask him to take
sides in sporting events, divorces or wars, among other things.
I don’t know why you do that, anyway;
it wouldn’t really matter if he took sides. He isn’t really all that powerful,
per se; he’s just enormous when compared to you. He can alter the weather or make the Earth
quake, and he’s been known to do that occasionally, just for amusement. And I
guess he could wipe out all life down there if he wanted, but why would he do
such a thing? If he did, the experiment would be over and he’d lose the grant. The
bottom line is, he’s incapable of anything that would affect individual lives. He
has really big hands with long, bony fingers, so he doesn’t have that sort of
dexterity. Not only that, but he has to take his glasses off to read, which
means his sight can’t be good enough to manipulate anything so small. Imagine
you trying to pick up a single grain of sand with your fingers. To pick up a
human, he’d need a huge magnifying glass and a pair of specially-made tweezers.
We all love that fantasy you folks have, in which Phineas hears prayers and grants
wishes. It’s cute, but not possible. It would take tens of thousands of you
shouting the same thing at once for him to hear you, and no one’s hearing is
that good. And anyway, interference with life on Earth is against the rules and
could actually void the experiment, and he’d lose his grant. And his kids do
have to eat. So forget blaming everything on Phineas’ will; life and death is
pretty much dependent on what living creatures do to their world, not due to his
whims and fancies.
I don’t know why I’m telling you all
of this; it really has little to do with this story. But I’m sure you’re
wondering how I know all of this.
Well, my name is Bartholomew, and I’m
what most of your would refer to as a soul.
Most living beings have souls but unfortunately the manufacturing process is
slow, and Phineas is a bit of a perfectionist, so production’s fallen behind, forcing
us to leave many beings soulless. Believe me; he’s aware of the problem and he’s
trying to fix it, because it’s not only a problem down there; the shortage has
also caused problems up here. I mean, souls want the best assignments just like
everyone else. Unfortunately, with the restrictions Phineas was forced to put
on us, getting the best assignments is often an impossible task.
Oh, yeah, I forgot; you don’t really
know what a soul is. Humans have such a warped idea about what you laughingly
call spirituality. Funny how you tend
to lump everything you can’t easily explain into that all-encompassing
category. Part of the problem is those infernal books you people read for
“enlightenment.” They sell them up here, too, but we put them in the “Humor”
section. We’re particularly fond of the one you refer to as The Bible.
By the way, do you know how The Bible
came to be? You’ll laugh when I tell you.
See, a really famous human writer
named Gideon once left some scrolls – a collection of short stories, as it
turned out -- at an inn one night when he was forced to leave in a hurry. An
angel found them and gave them to Phineas, who read them and laughed like crazy.
He was so amazed that such funny stories could contain such great lessons that he
instructed some angels to begin leaving them at inns all over the world. They
still do, in fact, and Gideon’s name is on every one. (Phineas believes in
giving credit where credit is due.) I’ve never read it, myself, but the stories
in that thing must have been good, because they’ve captivated humans for
thousands of your years. Of course, the decision to spread that book far and
wide, and allow humans themselves to copy and translate it is one of the few
that Phineas probably regrets, because of the havoc they’ve caused. I know they
drive everyone up here crazy.
But I’m getting off track here. I was
trying to explain a soul. I’m not sure if you’re advanced enough to understand the
concept, but I’ll try. Think of a soul as a sentient being’s moral guidance
system, in a way. Each of us is each assigned a being, and we are inserted into
a slot just above the left ear just after birth. See what I mean? Your jaw’s
practically dropping to the floor. How can we do that without anyone noticing,
right? I told you; the human concept of “time” is really screwy. You’re so obsessed
with it that we’re able to insert ourselves into a being while you’re looking
at your watch, which you do constantly. If you people realized how much of your
precious “time” you wasted trying to keep track of it, you’d have a much better
life. A soul actually inserts itself into a being in what you would consider
two “milliseconds,” at least in humans. We can take as long as we want in other
beings, because they don’t share your time obsession.
I know you won’t really understand the
concept of a soul, but I have to get back to my story. All you really have to
understand is that I’m a soul.
Though Phineas and I have become very
close, the relationship developed over time, as Phineas changed my whole
perspective on being a soul. Our first discussion had to do with restrictions
he’d placed on souls; restrictions that I felt were unfair. I wasn’t exactly a
rabble-rouser back then, but I was not a happy camper. But I had a bad attitude
and he turned it around.
It all started as I stood in one of
those endless lines up here, waiting to choose my assignment.
“I don’t want to be a dog!” I
protested to Hannibal. “I’ve been a dog twice before, and I hate it! There’s
nothing to do!”
“Dogs are among Phineas’ noblest
creatures,” Hannibal sniffed. “There’s a reason they’re considered man’s best
friend, you know.”
“Oh, please, Hanny,” I complained. “I’d
expect that kind of reasoning from a human, but not you. Dogs aren’t noble,
they’re stupid. If it wasn’t for their total dependence on humans for food and
comfort, they’d kill their owners. Their entire existence consists of eating,
sleeping, barking and licking themselves. That’s about it.”
“Don’t be silly,” Hannibal replied. “There’s
more to them than that. Besides; you don’t become a dog; you’ll simply
be its soul. You don’t lick anything; the dog does.”
“Spare me,” I sighed. “I’ve had three
dog vessels and I know what I’m talking about. I want a challenge this time and
there’s no challenge to a dog. It’s pretty much bite, don’t bite; scratch, don’t
scratch; who needs it? I want a human vessel again. They’re fun.”
“Every
soul up here wants a human vessel,” Hannibal replied drolly.
“Can you blame them?” I exclaimed. “Humans
are the greatest challenge there is, because they’re stupid, but they think
they’re the only beings on Earth capable of reason.”
“I’ve been up here too long,” Hannibal
snickered and shook his head. “They actually think that?”
“Yes!” I laughed. “Can you imagine?
That’s what makes them such a challenge! They seriously think they’re the most
important creatures on the planet.”
“Amazing,” Hannibal sighed. “Wonder
what makes them so delusional.”
I shrugged. “I don’t know, but that’s
what makes for an interesting assignment. The soul of a human criminal born in
poverty has a more interesting time than the soul of a dog, because of the poor
guy makes millions of choices throughout his life, and they have a lot of emotion to deal with. It’s the
best, Hanny!”
“Well, I’m afraid you don’t have a
human among your choices here,” Hannibal advised. “You know the quota; you’ve
had your six human lives.”
“Yeah, well, two of them shouldn’t
even count!” I insisted.
“Oh, come on, Bartholomew.” Hannibal’s
rolled his eyes and he waved me off. “You’ve told me the stories a billion
times. One died in the incubator just days after you were inserted, and the
other died of malnutrition before its first birthday. I get it. But that’s the luck
of the draw. Each soul gets six human vessels and that’s it. If you don’t want
a dog, I have some dolphin openings. They’re pretty smart.”
“I just don’t understand any of this,”
I responded. I was really irritated. It was just so unfair. “It doesn’t make
sense.”
“Well, if it makes you feel better,
Phineas is considering rules changes and increasing the human allotment soon.
But until then, there’s nothing I can do.”
“Well, how long will I have to wait?”
I asked.
“Wow,” Hannibal laughed. “You sound
like the humans, always preoccupied with “time.” That’s one of the dangers of
being a human’s soul, you know; the residual effects of that lousy human
education. Phineas will probably announce the changes soon. Do a couple of dogs
or cats; if you’re so preoccupied with time, they’re perfect; their lives are
very short. By the time you’re finished with them, you’ll probably be able to be
a human soul again.” He looked at his list once more. “Hey! We also have
monkeys available, if you’re interested. They’re close to human, and you’re
still below quota for those.”
“Monkey?” I laughed. “That’s almost as
bad as a dog.”
“Oh, stop,” Hannibal sniffed. “They
sit in trees, watch other animals and laugh at them. If you’re lucky, you’ll be
sent to a zoo. Those things just study people all day. It’s almost as good as
human.”
“No, Hanny,” I pouted. “Nothing else
even comes close.”
“You’ve been human too often; you’re
beginning to think like one,” Hannibal said. “Remember the human vessel who
started out as Catholic and ended up an atheist? Phineas still likes to talk
about that one.”
“Hey, I did a great job on that one,”
I argued. “Humans are empty vessels when they’re born, and religious people – many
of whom are soulless -- try to indoctrinate them as early as possible. Frankly,
it’s a logical progression from Catholic to atheist. Catholics are
indoctrinated into believing that Phineas is equal parts benevolent father and
self-absorbed, petty jerk. Seriously, can you imagine bowing down and
worshiping someone who would condemn you to an eternity of pain and torture
because you messed up a couple of times during one incarnation? If Phineas was
actually like that, I couldn’t work for him, could you?”
“I don’t get the whole “worship”
thing, anyway,” Hannibal said. “Why would a supposedly omnipotent being be so
self-absorbed?”
“Excellent point,” I agreed, although
he was diverting my train of thought, so I steered the conversation back.
“Anyway, I’ve figured out that the only way to guide them right is to get them
to renounce that version of Phineas altogether, and steer them toward a better
option, in which nature takes precedence. Phineas is a great guy, and humans should
know he’s not a tyrant. He’s always been benevolent to them. To the extent he
can be, anyway.”
“Well, he did have that ex-partner,
Beelzebub,” Hannibal reminded me. “Remember his Mars project?”
“Oh, yeah, right,” I nodded. “I’d
forgotten about that. They destroyed themselves pretty quickly.”
“Well, Earth isn’t doing much better,”
Hannibal reminded me. “They haven’t been around as long, and they’re already on
the brink of annihilation.”
“That’s why humans should receive
souls first,” I sighed. “If every human had a soul, the Earth would be in
better shape. Dogs, cats, monkeys and dolphins aren’t on the brink of
destroying the experiment; humans are.”
“Yeah, well, Phineas would love to
give every human a soul,” Hannibal replied. “But it’s difficult to manufacture
that many with the quality control regimen he insists on. Plus, humans are
procreating at a higher rate than Phineas ever dreamed possible. He’s even
thrown some scary diseases into the mix, and they continue unabated.”
“Well, it’s no wonder,” I snickered. “He
made sex too much fun. It’s one of the most exhilarating feelings a human has.”
“No kidding,” Hannibal nodded. “But
the point is, it’s not possible to manufacture that many souls so fast, and other
beings needs souls, too. Besides, humans are only in the process of
annihilating themselves, and perhaps a few other species of mammals. The planet’s
safe. Now, would you please choose from those available to you? People are
waiting in line. Would you like to be assigned a monkey, dog, cat, dolphin or
something else? Wait! Here’s a good one! A buffalo! I can even pinpoint the
location; this one’s in Colorado. , You’ll just stand on a bluff, chew grass
and commune with nature. That should relax you.”
“You mean bore me,” I responded.
“Well, if you’re not going to choose
anything right now, please stand aside,” Hannibal requested. “If you don’t like
the rules, you know who makes them.” He pointed in the direction of Phineas’
office. A
“This just isn’t fair,” I moaned.
“Oh, I think it’s more than fair,”
announced a slightly high-pitched, nasal voice from behind me. Some of my human
indoctrination must have kicked in again, because when I turned toward the
voice, I really didn’t expect Him.
Phineas stood before me, his deep blue
eyes piercing mine through thick black-rimmed glasses. I’d always imagined
being greatly intimidated by Phineas, but instead, I was amused, although for
some reason, I suddenly found myself incapable of rational thought.
“I just think it’s unfair!” was the
only response I could muster. As it crossed my lips, I realized it was a pretty
weak response when one is talking to the head honcho.
To my surprise, he didn’t freak out.
“Let’s take a walk,” he replied
calmly. Silently, he led me down a path to a wide, beautiful green meadow. He
led me to a magnificent old oak tree and motioned for me to be seated. I did as
he asked. The grass was soft, and as I leaned against the tree, a feeling of
comfort washed over me. Phineas sat on the grass across from me, although he
seemed to wince slightly as he crossed his legs. He pulled his long dark hair
into a ponytail behind him. When he was comfortable, he folded his hands and
placed them in his lap.
“I know you don’t like the quotas,”
Phineas sighed. “No one does, and honestly I’m sick of the whining. So, you’re
the unfortunate soul who gets to answer the question; what would you suggest we
do differently?” He absent-mindedly grabbed a blade of grass and began to gnaw
on it.
I leaned back against the tree and
tried to think of something to say that might prove myself worthy of Phineas
himself? Unfortunately, I found myself falling back into the human mindset
again, and thinking the word “God.” See, the problem with us souls is, our
thoughts are programmed for Phineas and the angels to read, so he caught me.
“Watch it,” he warned. He pushed his
glasses back up onto his nose. “I don’t like being called that.”
“Sorry,” I blushed.
“Look, I’m asking you about this
because I’m not all-knowing!” Phineas replied. Maybe I can use some help with
this. I like the Earth I’ve created, and of course I want the experiment to be
successful, but it’s just not looking good. The humans have taken over, and
they’re really screwing things up. I may never be able to catch up on soul
production, especially if the human population doubles again really soon, which
seems likely. They do love the sex, don’t they?”
“Most of them,” I replied. “It’s your
greatest creation, sir.”
Phineas nodded silently.
“Of course, on the bright side, if you
can look at it that way, at the rate humans are killing off species, they may
decimate enough other species to cover the difference.”
“Hmmph!” Phineas grunted. “That isn’t
helpful, Bartholomew. I created a balance down there, and I don’t want the
humans to screw up that balance any more than they already have.
“So, you have to make humans wiser,” I
concluded. “Only humans with souls can ever gain true wisdom.”
“Are you kidding me?” Phineas snorted.
“Did you get that from a human philosopher or a fortune cookie?”
“I just made it up,” I confessed. “But
it’s true.”
“No, it isn’t,” Phineas replied
sharply. “Wisdom derives from intelligence and reason, and intelligence and
reason are products of minds open to all possibilities, as well as listening to
the soul within. Are you going to sit there and tell me that every single
person with a soul has listened to it and acted accordingly?”
“Well...” I blushed. Of course it
wasn’t true, and I knew that, at least now.
“Don’t even attempt to spin that one,”
Phineas smiled. “The soul is a guidance system; it doesn’t always stop all people
who are doing horrible things. In fact, a lot of the humans doing the most
damage down there aren’t even aware they’re doing it. Soccer moms buy minivans
and SUVs because they want to take their kids to practice. They’re not evil,
just unthinking.”
“Yes, but many of the people who sell
the SUVs and drill for the oil are soulless, and can be pretty evil,” I
insisted. I was nervous about speaking up, but he was actually quite nice.
“You have a point, but it’s not the
few evil people that are causing all of the problems. It’s the others who follow
blindly because they’re lulled into a false sense of comfort and security who
are the real problem. And most of those people have souls. The soul mitigates
some problems; it doesn’t solve everything.
“Yeah, but humans are still the key to
the destruction of Earth,” I remind him. “Which means they’re also the key to
its survival.”
“Who told you that?” Phineas chuckled.
“Humans? That sounds like their tendency toward tortured logic. They are simply
not capable of destroying every living creature in the world other than
themselves. And they’re surely not going to destroy the planet. They’re only destroying
themselves, by creating air they weren’t built to breathe. All of the beings I
made were created to evolve and adapt, but the process isn’t instantaneous; it
takes eight to ten generations to work, and at the rate they’re messing things
up, they don’t have that many generations left. They could wipe out their own
species, and perhaps a few hundred others, but there will still be life down
there. Humans aren’t even the key species.” He grinned with pride, as if he had
been aching to reveal that secret forever.
“You created a key species?” I asked, awestruck.
“Of course I did,” Phineas replied
softly. “The only way this experiment will work is to create one species that
is more important than all others. Of course, for security purposes, I can’t
tell you what it is. Suffice it to say, humans are not alone in their ability
to reason.”
“If so many species are capable of
reason, why are humans so dominant?” I asked.
“Because they’re insecure,” Phineas
sighed. “I’m not sure why, but for some reason their insecurity has caused them
to develop an arrogant belief that they’re more important than every other
species. I think it’s that damn book; they think having dominion is the same as
dominating. It’s amazing; it seems as if almost every time I create a species,
they figure out a way to eat it or burn it for fuel. How how much reason could humans
have, when the sun beats down on them all of the time, but they burn fossil
fuels to keep warm?”
“I see your point,” I mused. “I sure wish
I knew the key species.”
“Why?” Phineas wondered. “What
difference would it make?”
“Well, I have to pick a vessel, and I’d
like to be assigned that species,” I reasoned. “Perhaps understanding that
species would be the key to settling the unrest in the ranks. The reason so
many souls want to be humans is because they’ve never heard what you just told me.
Maybe if they were able to discover the truth, they’d feel differently.”
“Hmm, that’s a good point, Bartholomew,”
Phineas agreed thoughtfully. He stroked his chin and again pushed his glasses
back onto his nose. “In the past, I’ve been reticent to give that species a
soul, because they’ve caused very little trouble, while humans are extremely
difficult. Why don’t you be the species’ first soul? Then, when you’ve
completed the assignment, you can report on it for us, and tell everyone how
great it is.”
“Well, I don’t know,” I replied with
hesitation. I really had no idea what I would even be saying yes to.
“Alright, I’ll make a deal with you,”
Phineas offered. “We’ll assign you to this species, and when you come back,
I’ll give you three extra human assignments in return for your report.”
“I get three extra human vessels?” I
repeated back.
“Yes,” Phineas answered.
I thought it over for a moment.
Phineas is quite honest, so it wasn’t the veracity of his offer that forced me
to have to consider it, but rather the lack of knowledge of what I was getting
into. But three extra human lives was too much to resist, in the end, so I
agreed pretty quickly.
Anyway, I’m here to tell you; that
assignment was the best. It was awesome; so awesome, I never want to be human
again. But I’m talking to you guys because you should know what’s really going
on here. Let me describe my day, and you’ll see how incredible it is.
My vessel and his wife scurry across
the kitchen floor, and the walls and the counters, looking for anything to take
back to the kids to eat. Look; we could find stuff outside, but inside, they’re
more careless and life is easier. We mostly grow our own food, anyway; you’d be
surprised what can grow on one corn flake over time, although we don’t obsess
over time at all. I can’t remember the last time anyone in our colony even
looked at a clock. Anyway, right now, we’re looking for a small snack, not a
full meal. My vessel is nothing if not resourceful; he knows that humans think
he’s dirty and carries disease, and they’ll kill him without a thought, so he
mostly travels outside the colony at night, and he simply takes what he needs
and gets out in a hurry. He heads straight for the dog’s food bowl, unseen, where
he and the wife each grab a kibble before scurrying into a small hole behind
the stove. Inside, the colony is electing a new leader. My vessel doesn’t care
about politics; like most cockroaches, he’s only interested in improving the
lives of those in the immediate community. He and his family grow their own
food, share it with the others in the colony, and everyone simply takes what he
or she needs. They stay within the community and all of them take an active
role in building it and making it better. They think about everything, and
everything they do is democratically based.
My ultimate message to all of you is
simple. The cockroach is the key to all life. So the next time you’re in line
to be reincarnated, don’t take the easy way out and become a human. In fact, I plan to trade some of my new human
incarnations for extra cockroaches.
