April 9, 2003
Probably Offensive
Note to self: never ask Mike to tell you a bedtime story ever again, lest it contain more adventures of the Cosmic Fish, the Cosmic Squirrel, and the Cosmic Rock, otherwise known as The Asteroid. Mike was symbolized by the The Asteroid. The moral of his story? Don't fuck with rocks.
They all had such colourful, vulgar language I could not give credit in my sleepy stupor at 2 a.m. this morning.
I need to wash my hair. And the rest of me, for that matter. I ran out of the door this morning at roughly 6:30 a.m., and as soon as I came back I laid back down with Mike and proceeded to sleep for three hours. It was delicious and heavy but I am not sure I can make up my atrocious sleep debt. There's still tonight.
I realized a few days ago that if one believes in the theory of creation, there are so many other things they cannot believe in. Simple things, little things I take for granted. For instance. I began my new job at the park with a six hour training session with Ranger Joyce. I mentioned idly that my brother and I used to search for fossils in park stream beds, and swore up and down, at one point, that we had found dinosaur teeth. It turned out we had only discovered a certain plentiful fossilized coral from when Ohio was covered in a shallow sea after speaking with our biology teacher.
She asked me if he mentioned merely that Ohio was covered by the ocean or if he said anything about the flood. The Flood.
The Flood!
Warning lights began flashing in my head and I quickly saved the soul of atheist Mr. Raver, at least in the eyes of this woman. He was never partial, but we all knew his beliefs. Needless to say, he mentioned it, but it was obvious what he believed.
You can't believe in evolution. You can't believe in carbon dating. You can't believe in rational dinosaur situations. You can't believe in ice ages or pangea or the Galapogos turtle. You can't believe in plate tectonics, hence you cannot explain volcanoes or earthquakes or mountain chains. You can't believe in gasoline, the Cretaceous period, Homo Erectus. All the cool things I've ever been totally engaged in about science are thrown to the wayside.
The earth is only 6000 years old, thanks to bountiful begating in Genesis. God made it just as it was, there was no continental drift, the dinosaurs lived peacefully alongside humans, Australopithecus is a hoax. All those bones, all those facts concerning half lives of elements, all of it gone in the face of divine intervention.
You know, I believe in God. Is it wrong to think that He gave a nudge in the proper direction, and allowed the awesome power of life to take its own course, one He undoubtedly knew, but did not need to guide? To me, there is something infinitely more romantic in the gradual evolution, to think that we have come so far, that there is evidence yet of further progress. The fantastic and numerous possiblities of our Earth and this galaxy, the Universe and whatever it may contain. His creation, yes, but not his toy. God must surely be in as much awe as we.
Why would you want everything laid out for you? I choose a life of possiblities.
astera at 3:26 p.m.