This image of Dr. Bronner’s Magic Soaps is probably a familiar one. They are a line of hemp-based, castile soaps that do not have any harsh detergents in it, just organic oils that are saponified into soap and glycerin. Being a natural product, it is available in whole-health and food-type establishments; it can also be found in big-box stores such as Target. The basic soap, being scented with peppermint, is gentle and tingles on the skin as it cleanses the body. It is labeled “Certified Fair Trade,” promoting its holistic purpose. Oh, it is certified, or maybe “certifiable” would be a better word. It occurred to me, as I read what is essentially a manifesto on the bottle, that the aforementioned tingle is the slight burn one feels as a holy liquid touches wicked flesh.   

This bottle of madness is a convenient, albeit unorthodox (ironic word choice, I know), delivery of the ultimate message: Absolute cleanliness is Godliness! Teach the Moral ABC that unites all mankind free, instantly 6 billion strong & we’re All-One. “Listen Children Eternal Father Eternally One.” I would say you couldn’t make that shit up, but Dr. Bronner did. He needed an editor, most definitely. He had serious diarrhea of the pen. Besides that, we hit 7 billion this year, and yes, someone is counting. Also, what is up with the oddly placed capitalizations? I understand the God thing, but All-One, Children Eternal, etc.? Is there only one? Did he know something that we don’t? Apparently, and he laid it all out to his minions for some light reading while being anointed by his magically miracle soap. 

The Moral ABC is an amalgamation of Rudyard Kipling’s poem If, as well as Dr. Batty’s (I know, ad hominems won’t get me into Heaven) views that supposedly evolved from Buddhist and Jewish as well as Christian teachings. I read Kipling’s poem. Like Manson gleaning murderous intentions from the Beatles’ Helter Skelter, Doc B’s interpretation of a poem about what passes for British virtue is almost as puzzling. I say almost, because it was considered an inspirational poem. And with that, I guess the Moral ABC is meant to inspire us to be good. I am assuming he consulted the Bhagavad Gita in his research; I haven’t read it. If it is anything as vast as the Moral ABCs, I’ll pass. They make Martin Luther’s 95 Theses look like a grocery list in comparison. 

I think there are 144 of them, but am not sure. He skipped around a lot. He jumped from the 1st to the 5th to the 7th, eventually to the 13th. On the back of the bottle, he miraculously got to 76, and then fast-forwarded to 144 at the bottom of the label. I won’t bore you with the details, but here are some blurbs: 

God’s Spaceship Earth (Umm . . . huh?); All One! All One! Exceptions Eternally? Absolute None! (Again with the caps and weird syntax!); Small minds decay! (I’ll buy that); Each swallow works hard to be perfect pilot-provider-builder-trainer-teacher-lover-mate, no half-true hate! (Eh, I got nothing); Thank God we don’t descend down from perfect Adam & Even to sinful sinner (Well duh, a sinner is sinful. Fucking Christ do I hate redundancy in writing); Free Speech is man’s only weapon against half-truth (Fred Phelps must use this soap); To dream that impossible dream! To reach that unreachable star! (Try making your goals a little less lofty, m’kay?)‘Til All-One, All-One we are! (For those about to rock, we salute you! Testifyyyyyy!) 

The bottle keeps rolling off my desk and quite frankly, I’m tired. I have perfect vision, well, maybe not Adam and Eve perfect, but reading that small, white print is straining my eyes. But dagnabbit, do I feel especially saved right now. What’s that parable about a blind man? Anyway. 

I trust I am not the first to write about this soap, nor will I be the last. There is even a documentary about the man, which I have not seen. That said, I figured in writing this, I should use my journalistic skills to find out more about the man behind the soap. 

Okay, so I am not a journalist. I just googled his name and clicked on links until I found a photograph: 

Why doesn’t it surprise me he looked insane? However, I didn’t expect such an uncanny resemblance to this guy: 

That’s right—Herr Döktor from The Human Centipede. Take a moment to compare the two. Scroll up, scroll down. Coincidence? 

Like your average mere mortal, I just went to Wikipedia for some background information. I can’t confirm if Dr. Bronner, born Emanuel Bronner in Germany in 1908, was really a doctor, but it sounds like he had a pretty tumultuous existence. His parents were killed in the Holocaust and he suffered shock treatments in an Illinois mental hospital after he was arrested for publicly announcing his Moral ABCs. He later escaped from the hospital, settling in California to start his soap-making enterprise. He died in 1997; I assume it was of natural causes. His surviving family has continued his legacy since then. It stated they modify the label as needed, but I find that claim suspect. 

Gotta give him credit, the guy was devoted to his crazy cause. Okay, I’m finished picking on that whacky dude. He lived a rough life, so I’ll give him latitude for that. And I have to say: His soap rocks. 

This has to be the most multi-functional product I have encountered. It is meant for cleaning the body (and soul), but it works just as well on other things. I clean my cat’s litter box with it—just a few squirts in the water are enough to neutralize the odor. I can also use it in the laundry. Because I was cursed with sensitive skin (why hast thou forsaken me with that affliction?), I can’t use artificial fragrances in my soaps and detergents. While those “free and clear” detergents do clean just as effectively as their fragrant brethren, they don’t handle pungent odors well. All it takes is a few drops of his soap with the detergent, and my laundry smells fresh again! 

I also make a sugar scrub with it and sometimes add more coconut oil for extra moisturizing. I don’t mean to imply that St. Bronner needs an abrasive substance to help scour the impiety from flesh, but there is no such thing as over-compensation in the war against evil. Plus, I do feel extra purified afterwards. 

I recommend not using the soap on your naughty bits, and definitely do not get it in your eyes. While not as bad as throwing holy water on a vampire, it is quite unpleasant. Apparently, those dirty parts of the anatomy have seen and experienced so many nefarious things, they are beyond redemption. 

I stumbled upon an additional use for this soap recently. How to start? Umm . . . I, erm, was given—AGAINST MY WILL!—a couple of glass thingamajiggies used for something unholy. Yes. God makes this iniquitous substance, so it should be okay, right? No, he did it just to test us! They were too pretty to throw away, so I decided—for the greater good—to salvage them. Nothing was working to purge these pipes, er, demonic delivery devices, of the vile contraband. Repeated soakings with dish soap, as well as numerous rubbing alcohol dips, did little to make these objects chaste once again. In a rapturous moment, it occurred to me to soak them in hot water and his hemp (the irony did not escape me) soap. Dr. B exorcised the ashes of that evil plant straight to HELL! Yay-yah! Dr. Bronner saved me from eternal damnation! Again! 

I trust this soap has even more uses, but it is a bit pricey at $9.99–$14.99 a bottle. That exorcism used up a few bucks worth alone. Perhaps I am governed by my household budget, but it seems I shouldn’t be so indulgent with my Savior’s resources. I’m sure it says that somewhere in the Bible.