What If? … There are Mole People
Have you ever considered the possibility that mole people actually exist?
I have and I’m monumentally disturbed by the idea. I mean, here we are, living topsoil, confident in the fact that our scientists know all. Nothing, they tell us, can live more than a few feet underground, the pressure further down is too much to support life.
But then, one day, we discovered the mole people. Science is wrong. Sci-fi is correct.
They would obviously be a superior race of creatures, able to live miles underground. Their bodies honed to withstand massive amounts of pressure. All of our heavy pressure weapons would be completely useless! We would be completely unable to swat them with shoes, clubs, or baseball bats.
But maybe we’re lucky. Maybe they’re peace loving creatures who are excited to share their pressure positive scientific wonders with us. We’d suddenly be able to tunnel miles underground. We could grow crops without the sun. We would suddenly be prepared for that day, 5 million years in the future, when, on his first birthday, God makes a wish and blows out the sun.
I bet He wishes for a hot boyfriend. That’s what I wished for on my first birthday. (Yep, über gay.)
So now the human race has reached the pinnacle of evolution, we will survive the end of the sun, thanks to the mole people.
And so, confident and relaxed, we share our scientific discoveries with them. Gas powered motors, personal lubricants, and coal factories.
And the mole people, astounded by these amazing feats in manufacturing ask where we get these wonderful things. And we excitedly explain the source of coal and petroleum, and wait for their amazed reactions. They’ve lived underground for so long, how could they not notice? We obviously have the upper hand in a few areas.
They’re not so great, we think.
But instead of awe, the mole people look uncomfortable. They shuffle their feet slightly and hesitantly explain that these pockets of oil and coal, that we’ve used to achieve amazing progress, are, in fact, sewage dumps, liquid and solid sewage, respectively.
Think about this the next time a bus rolls by, belching a cloud of black exhaust. Because if I’m right, you just inhaled a mouthful of mole-man poo.