Darwin’s Sharks
by Liam Scheff
The Neo-Darwinian theory of evolution states, to quote its high priest Richard Dawkins, that “there is no spirit-driven life force, no throbbing, heaving, pullulating, protoplasmic, mystic jelly. Life is just bytes and bytes and bytes of digital information.”
The Dawkins’ world-view further offers that ‘sheer accident, and pure chance’ are to be thanked – or blamed – for all that is on Earth, and indeed, everywhere. There is no intelligence ‘pullulating’ through the universe – just blind, dumb luck, (and of course, Dawkins’ infamous “gangster genomes.”)
But how often can a man demonstrate himself a charlatan, and a traitor to his own creed? And with his own pronouncements? Does not the very idea of “information” depend on the idea of “intelligence?” Does it not require a creative mind to be made useful?
How much of Western Science is simply a schoolboy’s rebellion against the intellectually stifling literalism of Christianity? How many of “our best ideas” today are nothing more than spasmodic, empty-headed reflex reactions against too many ages of religious literalism?
When will the modern priestly class – the scientists – finally free themselves from religion, and get on with seeing the universe as it is – electrical, transcendent, creative, thinking, and intelligent beyond our comprehension?
And in the spirit…
The Tyger (from Songs Of Experience)
By William Blake; 1794
Tyger! Tyger! burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?
In what distant deeps or skies
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand dare seize the fire?
And what shoulder, and what art.
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand? And what dread feet?
What the hammer? What the chain?
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? What dread grasp
Dare its deadly terrors clasp?
When the stars threw down their spears,
And watered heaven with their tears,
Did he smile his work to see?
Did he who made the Lamb make thee?
Tyger! Tyger! burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?
Radio: Join me on "The Robert Scott Bell Show" Mon-Fri 12-2
