How much do I care for these ants? I think I care. I’ll stop to watch their wars. I’ll buy my children documentaries—insect tributes. I won’t crush them when I can help it. But, if given the chance, would I be willing to become one of them? Would I be willing for them to drag me to the place of execution, taunt me, mock me, ridicule the gift I offered, a gift entirely beyond their comprehension? Would I be willing for the earwig, executed beside me, to add his insults to those of the ants? Would I be willing to die? Hell no. Never. I have more self-regard than God does. I have less love for
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