Somewhere deep within our bowels, colonies of bacteria talk about “The Big One.” When is it going to hit? Where will it strike? Microscopic geologists postulate numbers for probabilities based on previous records of minor tremors. Colonists speak of the major ones from yesteryear that perhaps they lived through, giving them names like “Sigmoid of May 3, 2008; 11:34pm,” or “Northridge ’94” or “Loma Prieta ’89.”
And then, every once in a while, as predicted and feared, their fleshy earth trembles beneath their flagella, and their civilization crumbles to pieces as the powers that be flush the victims into the bacterial afterlife. Yet after all is said and done, they rebuild on the mighty colon, and as time passes, they talk about it and occasionally ask each other, “Where were you when The Big One struck?”
We are all but microbes in the colon of God.