I am perfect in every way. Hewn from the most beautiful rock by the greatest sculptor in the world, during the pinnacle of humanity’s artistic energy, I stand proudly as a monument to the human ideal. I represent one of the Bible’s greatest heroes, making one of the most pivotal decisions of his life. And in my centuries of existence, I have come to symbolize and inspire the defense of liberty. People come to look at me from all over the world and stare in awe.
Yet I cannot help but feel humiliated in my exhibition. Though it cannot be known for sure, I am fairly certain my template was not naked when he came to his decision to slay the giant Goliath. Being a statue is not so bad, I suppose. At least I stand upright. I cannot imagine how my friend the Thinker’s back must be killing him after all these years hunched over. But how I wish someone would sculpt me a robe, or at the very least a quartz Speedo.