In one of the
very best episodes of TV's
Futurama, Bender found himself lost in space after being shot out of a torpedo tube. While he floats aimlessly, a meteor crashes into him, seeding his body with microscopic intelligent beings who quickly form societies on his torso -- and begin to worship him as a god. He treats it as a joke at first, ordering his followers to build him a factory to make beer; but when fumes from the brewery kill thousands, he begins to understand the moral ramifications of being a deity. He tries to perform miracles for his disciples, but everything he does only ends up hurting them. Soon he's faced with the ultimate crisis: an apocalyptic war between the colony of Bender-fearing beings on his stomach and the colony on his ass -- the citizens of which who, because Bender cannot see them, have
decided that Bender does not exist. But Bender refuses to intervene in mortal affairs.
Nuclear war breaks out, killing every single being on Bender's body.
I relate that story about the moral responsibilities of the mortal god because of a recent scientific discovery that human beings play host to "the densest bacterial ecosystem known in nature." This comes to us from microbiologists at Washington University in St. Louis, who recently performed the most detailed ever analysis of human fecal matter.
"Using fecal samples from two healthy adult volunteers who did not receive any antibiotics or other medications for a year prior to the study, {microbiologist Jeffrey} Gordon and colleagues have described and analyzed more than 60,000 genes from each individual. The team's findings, detailed in the June 2 issue of the journal Science, will help scientists better understand how these microscopic life forms perform their many functions. It will also help researchers determine whether the microbial communities we each carry inside are evolving as a result of changing diets and lifestyles."
"This microbial community is as diverse as any found in Earth's seas or soils, numbering up to 100 trillion individuals and representing more than 1,000 different species."
And while these bacterial civilizations in your gut may or may not be aware of your role as their god, they are clearly aware of your actions -- and your wrath. On blessed days, their god giveth them yogurt and bran muffins upon which they thrive in peaceful harmony; but every so often God becomes angry, and shoves into their fragile ecosystem habanero salsa or lamb vindaloo -- and suddenly a peaceful civilization bursts into deadly chaos. Escherichia coli lob missiles at Ethanobrevibacter smithii; Helicobacter pylori unleash gas clouds intent on wiping out every member of the Fusobacterium genera; Peptostreptococcus turns on brother Peptostreptococcus; and the rivers of dead sluice out your anus.
Learn the lesson well: you, like Bender, are a god to lesser beings. Their fate is in your hands, and on your dinner plate. Proceed carefully with each bite you take -- for each one has the potential to end a billion lives, or provide sustenance to a billion more. They pray for a life-giving rain of milk; they live in dread the torrents of beer that maliciously pour down your gullet.
Science has proven it: you are God of the Gut Flora. Please -- act accordingly.
