Why do humans, said Blurtso, interfere with nature? Humans, said Pablo, are creatures of nature, and as creatures of nature they inevitably act naturally, so their conscious interference in nature must be working in the interests of nature, even if that interference turns out to be nature’s way of eliminating humans.
The more you look at ants, the more they look like water… flowing here, flowing there, encountering an obstruction, flowing around it, flowing over it, or carrying it with them as they flow along. And just like too much of anything, if there are too many, they carry away everything in sight, until there is nothing left for others, and nothing left for themselves.
I wonder if ants worry about the environment? I wonder what they think of global warming? If I were an ant I would want to do something, but they act like they don’t even care. Maybe they don’t take themselves as seriously as we do. Maybe for them this world is just a testing ground, and they’ll all get their reward in heaven. I wonder what an ant has to do to get into heaven? I wonder what heaven is for an ant? Maybe it’s warm barn with plenty of food. That’s what it is for me. And since a warm barn with plenty of food always has a number of ants, and usually a donkey or two, then I’m a part of their heaven and they’re a part of mine. Maybe heaven is not a place at all. Maybe it’s a relationship.
Do you ever get the feeling, said Blurtso, you’re being constantly manipulated? By the advertisers? said Harlan. Yes, said Blurtso, by the newspapers, and billboards, and radio, and television, and Internet, and loudspeakers at ball games. And signs, said Harlan, painted on city buses? Yes, said Blurtso, everywhere I turn someone is telling me what to want and what to think. And people are inviting the advertisers, said Harlan, to live in their pocket. In their pocket? said Blurtso. Yes, said Harlan, the iPhone6 will be available soon.
Hello, said the devil. Hello, said Blurtso. I see you’ve come to buy a trombone. Have I? said Blurtso. You must have, said the devil. I don’t think I need a trombone, said Blurtso. You don’t? said the devil. I already have two, said Blurtso. Two trombones! said the devil, you must be very happy! Yes, said Blurtso, I am. Do you want to give me one of your trombones? Absolutely not, said Blurtso. You are happier with two trombones instead of one? said the devil. Yes, said Blurtso, I’m fond of my trombones. Well, said the devil, if you are happier with two instead of one, it stands to reason that you would be happier with three instead of two. Yes, said Blurtso, that stands to reason. And if three makes you happier than two, four would make you happier than three. Four trombones? said Blurtso. Absolutely, said the devil, and five and six. I’m not sure, said Blurtso, there must be a point of diminishing trombones. Diminishing trombones? said the devil. When more becomes less, said Blurtso. More becomes less? said the devil, that makes no sense. I suppose it doesn’t, said Blurtso, admiring a trombone out of the corner of his eye.