Seeking the Soul

"Yeah, yeah, I get it already! You have to destroy me to save me. So get on with your evil little science experiment!"

The LAH 9000 psychosurgery system announces: "First we reconstruct your prefrontal cortex."


"Completed. How do you feel?"

"OK, ... great, actually. Calm, easy to focus. Things popping up in my head, things I want to do."

"Excellent. Now the sensory-motor cortex. Prepare for extreme hallucinations in all senses. Your reality will become a kaleidoscope."


"OK. How are things now?"

"Wow! Crazy for a while, but better now. Everything, ... familiar, yet new and strange."

"Normal. The cruft built up over your life about things and people and what they mean to you is gone. Last step: limbic system replacement. Prepare for wild random swings between fear, ecstasy, mania, and depression."


 "Fucking hell! Please, never again! But , ... now, ... much more relaxed! Less suspicious and fearful. Am I still me? Why was I so angry? Feels like I shed a heavy, filthy old coat. If I was born this way, ... those terrible, terrible things I did, ... I wouldn't have. Couldn't have."


The doors of the surgical suite explode open and a coterie surges in, led by a surly man. Beside him, a woman holds a sledge hammer like a weapon at the ready. The confused, terrified patient writhes against her restraints in terror. With a tense mixture of disgust and heartbreak, the man speaks in loud authority: "This THING! It looks and speaks like our sister-in-arms and my true beloved. IT'S NOT! It's an inhuman residue, stripped of its soul by an evil machine, made into a mockery of God's greatest miracle! Kill it now!"

A swift swing, a great splatter of blood and tissue, and a hammer left buried in a skull broken, effusing gore.



Where was the soul? Where is it now?