I was clicking through some of the links on Andrew Sullivan's blog, and ended up in the comments section of 'Andrew Leigh' laughing at the following exchange that occurred over the line "Where's the evidence that the soul does not reside in the heart?" at the end of AL's post;
Jesse Says: February 25th, 2007 at 1:32 am “Where’s the evidence that the soul does not reside in the heart?” That people with artificial hearts are not soulless zombies?
J Snyder Says: February 25th, 2007 at 1:47 am “Where’s the evidence that the soul does not reside in the heart?” Heart transplant patients don’t resurrect the soul of the donor?
Mike Rock Says: February 25th, 2007 at 1:56 am Where’s the evidence “That people with artificial hearts are not soulless zombies?” :-)
Jesse Says: February 25th, 2007 at 2:02 am On the other hand, if you eat someone’s heart still beating right out the socket, you DO gain all their powers and memories. So the evidence is inconclusive.
Seriously, what’s odd about the quote is that the author seems to have confused a straightforwardly disprovable empirical statement with some sort of transcendent spiritual issue. This is goofy. If there is a soul that resides in a particular sector of the body — a question I express no opinion on here — that sector is obviously the brain, not the heart, as is shown by a moment’s contemplation of the key distinction between a heart transplant and a brain transplant, or between an artificial heart and an artificial brain.
Jesse Says: February 25th, 2007 at 2:06 am “Where’s the evidence “That people with artificial hearts are not soulless zombies?”” Where the evidence that you’re not? All right, that settles it. Voight-Kampff tests for everybody.
There ought to be a word for the feeling that I get running across a well used Bladerunner reference (the rest of the post commentary is a back-and-forth between two linguists over an academic matter - which was interesting in its own right even though I was completely out of my depth).
A joke writer described how he occasionally would slip a referrence into his work that he knew only two percent of the audience would get. But how do we descrbibe the feeling of being one of those two percent?