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Mutant, v. 2, issue 2, May 1948
Page 11
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THE PROOF by Ben Singer It was dawn--and the earth was still and dead. The dull rocks stood where vegetation had once spawned its own kind. And there were no clouds in the sky--but the sun shone no more brightly; for the sun was red and bloated. There was no longer even any evidence that living things had once inhabited the planet -- once called earth. But this dawn was different; for as it grew lighter the observing rocks noticed a hazy substance materializing -- materializing IN THE SHAPE OF A MAN. Then another of the same appeared. Then another. And another. All in all, one hundred and fifty of these man-images appeared upon the cemetary earth. And they began to speak. "How did we get here?" Thomas Paine asked of Edison. "Certainly by no will of the hateful clergy," answered infidel Tom Edison. "What purpose? No mortal ask--for how can a mortal know of things not proposed by himself," Shakespeare said. "I believe it certainly will do us no harm; for we were all rotting away in our graves before; now we function!" chuckled Honest Abe. "But it is impossible," said Baron d'Holbach. "THE EXISTENCE OF A SOUL IS AN ABSURD SUPPOSITION, AND THE EXISTENCE OF AN IMMORTAL SOUL IS A STILL MORE ABSURD SUPPOSITION. Although it is impossible for men to have the least idea of the soul, or of this pretended spirit which animates them, they persuade themselves, however, that this unknown soul is exempt from death; though everything proves to them that they feel, think, acquire ideas, enjoy or suffer, only by the means of the senses or of the material organs of the body. Even admitting the existence of this soul, one cannot refuse to recognize that it depends wholly on the body, and suffers conjointly with it all the vicissitudes which it experiences itself; and however it is imagined that it has by nature nothing analogous with it, it is pretended that it can act and feel without the assitance of the body; that deprived of this body and robbed of its senses, this soul will be able to live, to enjoy, to suffer, be sensitive of enjoyment of rigorous torments. Upon such a tissue of conjectural absurdities the wonderful opinion of the immortality of the soul is built." "Which is to say, in short, that we shouldn't exist?" asked Hume. "I believe the Baron is correct," said Darwin. Spencer nodded his head in agreement. The decision became unanimous among the world's greatest men. At which point they disappeared. Forever. - END - 11
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THE PROOF by Ben Singer It was dawn--and the earth was still and dead. The dull rocks stood where vegetation had once spawned its own kind. And there were no clouds in the sky--but the sun shone no more brightly; for the sun was red and bloated. There was no longer even any evidence that living things had once inhabited the planet -- once called earth. But this dawn was different; for as it grew lighter the observing rocks noticed a hazy substance materializing -- materializing IN THE SHAPE OF A MAN. Then another of the same appeared. Then another. And another. All in all, one hundred and fifty of these man-images appeared upon the cemetary earth. And they began to speak. "How did we get here?" Thomas Paine asked of Edison. "Certainly by no will of the hateful clergy," answered infidel Tom Edison. "What purpose? No mortal ask--for how can a mortal know of things not proposed by himself," Shakespeare said. "I believe it certainly will do us no harm; for we were all rotting away in our graves before; now we function!" chuckled Honest Abe. "But it is impossible," said Baron d'Holbach. "THE EXISTENCE OF A SOUL IS AN ABSURD SUPPOSITION, AND THE EXISTENCE OF AN IMMORTAL SOUL IS A STILL MORE ABSURD SUPPOSITION. Although it is impossible for men to have the least idea of the soul, or of this pretended spirit which animates them, they persuade themselves, however, that this unknown soul is exempt from death; though everything proves to them that they feel, think, acquire ideas, enjoy or suffer, only by the means of the senses or of the material organs of the body. Even admitting the existence of this soul, one cannot refuse to recognize that it depends wholly on the body, and suffers conjointly with it all the vicissitudes which it experiences itself; and however it is imagined that it has by nature nothing analogous with it, it is pretended that it can act and feel without the assitance of the body; that deprived of this body and robbed of its senses, this soul will be able to live, to enjoy, to suffer, be sensitive of enjoyment of rigorous torments. Upon such a tissue of conjectural absurdities the wonderful opinion of the immortality of the soul is built." "Which is to say, in short, that we shouldn't exist?" asked Hume. "I believe the Baron is correct," said Darwin. Spencer nodded his head in agreement. The decision became unanimous among the world's greatest men. At which point they disappeared. Forever. - END - 11
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