Men of many faces

There once was a man who wished to have his own tiny dancer. Remember that man? He had a friend. The friend always walked in the shadows, along the dark side of the street. He was presumed to have a dark personality, but truth be told, he was a little bit shy. This man had a friend who appeared to be even more troubled. He walked with his face always turned downwards. It was presumed he either was deeply depressed or had a spinal disorder. But it turned out he was an artist. By looking down he saw the faces peering up from below.

And that is how we discovered the little people.

The trouble with humans is we think too much of ourselves. Just ask any other species sharing this beautiful planet with us. Ask the whales who beach themselves. As far as our marine scientists can determine, these creatures have more sophisticated communication systems (language) than we do. Furthermore, they appear to be highly evolved as a species, understanding their place in the natural order of things, where they lead a largely peaceful existence, forming unions, raising their young, grieving over their dead, all the while warily monitoring the ever-expanding naked apes bent on yanking our ecological balance so far our of whack that only the insects, perhaps, will be able to adapt in time to survive the coming global sweatshop.

The whales know this and some, rather than waiting for the inevitable, have started committing suicide.

You can also ask the turtles that are appearing way too far north, or the salmon appearing way too far south. Ask the Monarch butterflies or Canadian geese, which are altering their migration patterns. (On second thought, don't ask the geese, but if you do, also please ask them to stop making such a mess of wherever they choose to land. Rather like humans.)

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The only answer for all of this is that human beings must become much smaller, lighter, less aggressive, more loving, and much, much more modest. Otherwise the little people will demand to start growing up to our size, with our thunderous voices and our heavy footsteps that make the earth tremble wherever we tread.

The little people can grow, too; they've just held down until now. As they see how we are messing things up, however, the idea is loose among them that these giants can be tripped, swarmed over, and removed, one by one.

That's how it goes in the natural order of things. Darwinian, you might call it. The artist has been warning us for ages. The man in the shadows has withdrawn from speaking his mind. His shyness makes him a natural ally of the little people.

There is a silver lining to this story. The man who wanted a tiny dancer actually met a real woman, who urged him and his friends to henceforth walk along the sunny side of the street. Once out in the open, he regained his voice, and repudiated his wish to possess a little woman; he clarified his desire as to help the little ones, men and women alike.

The moral of this story is that all it takes to transform a face from a frown to a smile is love.