Life itself is an oddity, for sure. People have grappled since the beginning of time (a duration which varies depending on your theory) with the sequence of events which perpetuated the formation of the Earth and all its creatures, great and small, and in general terms, it's primarily attributed to a) the beautiful creations of God (the creationists), b) the Big Bang Theory and evolution (the scientists and folks of reasonable intellect) or c) A growing camp, those who believe God created evolution, (the indeterminable, non-committed middle ground).
Creationists honestly, utilizing their bounty of spongy head tissue, would prefer to believe this illustration is accurate:
Versus the notion that such a creature as this existed, The Uchchaihshravas, in Hinduism (which hangs on my bedroom wall!):
Why, you ask? Because for simpletons and those whose logic is irreversibly stunted, it's much easier and less neuron-draining to lump the Tyrannosaurus Rex with hissing cockroaches, zebras, cows and monkeys on a giant boat and reduce the dinosaur to a peaceful herbivore in lieu of what science has starkly proven time and time again, that the T-Rex (like many other dinosaurs) was a total carnivore. The creationist will say, "No, this can't be! That would mean the T-Rex ate things like other animals, and, gasp, maybe even people! No, no. They ate grass and trees. It's in the Bible here....(licking fingers and flipping pages)....um, unable to find anything remotely referring to prehistoric creatures...but hold on, we're looking, we're looking..." in utter denial that prehistoric creatures eradicated the planet before it was inhabited by homosapiens.
Hi, yeah, no.
Perhaps what amuses me the most is an aforementioned (many months ago, a chick who became physically ill after reading an hour's worth of my blog, which tickles my insides!) woman who attends my Lutheran church, who recently publicly renounced her support of and her child's enjoyment of PBS, the Public Broadcasting System, because of whom she perceives is Satan's latest myth-perpetuating, disastrous minion, whose incarnation as an eyeglasses-wearing, preppy dressing, TALKING AARDVARK rejects the Judeo-Christian version of God's creation in the form of:
Sure, "Arthur" seems innocent enough, and you know, take away the show's highly enjoyable (I started watching it BEFORE I had kids) and well-presented positive spins on little kids grappling with life, home, friends and school, insert an 11-minute vignette about stalactites, stalagmites and bats, explaining in logical, honest sense and reason what was involved in cave formation, and you, you, you, you and all of PBS are on a swift pathway to the bowels of hell.
This is the vignette in question, which, at 7:50, begins to explain the cave's formation (where the kids are on a field trip) with the truthful understanding that the Earth is, in fact, billions of years and not 4,000 years old.
Yeah, trust me, I was thinking the same thing too, but this family takes Lutheranism to the tiniest pinhole of legitimacy vis-a-vis an extremely thin thread of any semblance of remote intelligence, and have made the unfortunate (but to each his own....raise ignoramuses, I give a shit) and illogical decision to ban "Arthur" from their daughter's television time. (If you're not in the know, "Veggie Tales," with its Christian approval stamp, gets really old really quickly, especially if your kid is really intelligent and deduces that he'd sooner watch an upright, humanly functioning aardvark than vegetables with eyes & mouths.)
Perusing the comment thread underneath SB's anti-PBS rant featured rally cries from other creationist parents, and a special howdy-do from The Bride of Frankenstein, SB;s mother in law. Frankenbride proclaimed her own disdain towards PBS, her renunciation of supporting WTTW-Chicago; furthermore, her membership to the Shedd Aquarium, because the factual accounts of and displays about sea creatures, some of which are or were prehistoric, are likewise mislabeled, misguided fallacies and the Christian God isn't given any credit...in a public museum. (Poor thing. She's missing "Downton Abbey.")
This is all, like, 75% as awesome as the Pope Emeritus Benedict the Roman Numeral resurrecting (for lack of a better term) the Shroud of Turin, which Catholics from around the world are ga-ga'ing their way to Italy over which to fawn.
Hi, yeah, no.
Multi-million dollar, extensive research and study from both sacred and secular authorities deemed the Shroud an illusion of fallacy like 25 years ago. It's a crafty, man-made thingy a helluva long time ago, which happens to bear an uncanny resemblance to....exactly the way European Christians have depicted the Middle Eastern Jewish Jesus since roughly the Renaissance. Catholic dictates are even more difficult to grasp than protestant theology, but my humble opinion was that Mr. Ratzinger sprung the Shroud out of hiding to deflect the multiple hush-hush scandals within Catholicism, while publicly (in his farewell address) accusing God of having "been asleep" for the majority of the last 8 years.
If I'd known *that* in the past, I completely would've capitalized on the Almighty Creator's snoozing inattentiveness and worked harder at seducing Guy Friend guilt-free, many times over. All these natural disasters, e.g. tsunamis, hurricanes, erupting volcanoes, amoebic dysentery epidemics & SB getting pregnant again must have all occurred during one of God's naps. His motto? "I'm omniscient & omnipresent, but I like to snuggle with a blankie and snooze while my children on Earth get all wacky and eat pig meat, fornicate, take My name in vain and fill sandbags before the levees break. I'm a busy guy, I'm getting old, and my son, seated at my right hand, well, gee, it takes me 3 days to get Him out of bed. Kids."
Concluding with the subject of naps, I arose with an intensely sore throat and a fever, and as I told SuperJuls, I'm a warrior who presses forward regardless. If I feel like lying down, chances are I ain't too peppy. Special thanks to Tuberculosis Freddie situated right behind me on the train yesterday morning, whose liberal and enthusiastic sneezing were barely shielded by my coat hood.