We Have A Purpose. (Mk II)

     It is so very difficult to think when you and all your family are made entirely out of bottle-caps and string. So it isn't all that often that a bottle cap person gets to thinking deep thoughts. But a body can get to feeling so hopeless when you're trying to raise a family in a house the size of a toaster-oven. So hopeless that you simply must search for meaning outside the squalor of your own wretched existence.

     

And why not seek meaning and purpose?!?

     When I look at these, my stumpy arms, all corrugated tin and miscellaneous cola residue, I am struck by the beauty of it all. When I look at my yellow-faced, boat-footed child, I am nearly moved to tears by the miraculous nature of life and the love it has brought me.
     Sure, our home is tiny, and except for the front porch it doesn't actually have what you'd call a room, per se. No, it's a solid block of wood, surrounded by pop-tops. But we're glad of it. Thankful for it, even! So when I survey all these things, I know--KNOW--that God exists.
     Could a random, unlikely event billions of years ago have caused the first Coke bottle to bob to the surface of the primordial ooze and divest itself of its cap, my ancient ancestor?
     Could Darwin's dark and pitiless art have eventually resulted in the evolution of me and mine?
     I don't like such a cold and random view of the universe as that. I prefer to think that there was a mind that set itself the task of creating me and my family of "Life in Hell" look alikes.

I know that my Pepsi bottler lives! What comfort that sweet sentance gives!

• These objects stand from three to five feet tall, and are made entirely from bottle caps.
• They are in the lobby of a prominant lawyer in the Detroit metropolitan area, where I was working yesterday.