A Clean Pig

He was the "Numbers Guy" - a man with no organic skills but a master of manipulation - and everyone loved him, for he kept their money safe and prosperous. His beloved keyboard kingdom - now hailed around the world - shielded him from inconvenient realities. For it was the evil in the world that he made work for him. And evil, of course, is the one thing we can always count on to exist. It's the safest bet of all - and the Numbers Guy only made good bets.

That tingling, almost giggling feeling, running up his spine and exploding inside was an addiction greater than any physical drug. They slapped him on the back and hailed him as wizard. He lectured others on his formulas and his insights into artifice. It was beautiful, like having sex with the world. And like the ancient alchemists who claimed to turn lead into gold, this medieval man also lured myth into reality: he'd found usefulness for his evil. It was a high like no other.

Yet he was a Clean Pig, a noble pig. As lesser pigs wallowed in the muck, his piggery remained pristine. Charities, the arts, reformist politicians - all were beneficiaries of his enlightened ways. While his cohorts engaged in sordid dealings - sucking blood from the lives of others - the Clean Pig remained outside it all, showering blessings down from his hilltop mansion (as he too benefited from the rapacious plundering). His starched white shirts and shiny black shoes made him presentable to all. And thus the pig was not a pig.


"How do you do it? How do you beat the world?" asked his Worshipful Wife. "I'm way too stupid to be like you." He grinned in bed, marveling at the power of his magic formula: make your evil clean! Money, morality, matrimony - all the hallmarks of a good soul were his. Silently, he scoffed at the losers he read about in the paper scrambling for their lives, too naive of the world to be a pig like he. And the dirty pigs who choked on their own filth were equally stupid. Every pig needs mud - even the Clean Pig - but you can't just wallow in it! "Everyone's a moron but me."

Worldly woe brings laughter to worldly pigs. For precious pigs must never suffer the despair of the unwashed masses. For if one cannot aspire to be a pig, what is left to live for? But how much longer can the Age of Pigs last? Theirs is not a sustainable slope. As the world evolves into love, the pigs will embark on their inexorable slide into the dustbin of history. If we are to survive, then the time must come when we face the fact we cannot live as pigs or let pigs live among us. Not even clean ones.