Hey all,

 

Can you please do me a favor and read through this article I wrote about Grace?

 

I’m happy with the content, but have gotten nothing but rejection letters in the (almost) year that I’ve been pitching it.

 

I’ve come to the conclusion that the article is good, but the title sucks…in which case the first three paragraphs probably suck as well (as they are only there to support the title.)

 

Soooo…if you could please give it a read though and then come up with a new title (or two, or three…) the one I like best will win a prize!

 

Thanks!

 

-Gracie’s Daddy

 

 

The Argument for Creationism

by Perry P. Perkins

 

Often, as a young Christian man without a family, I would spend hours arguing the rationale of creationism. This is because I had a deep understanding of God’s plan for mankind, and a thirst to share that knowledge…or possibly because I didn’t have a girlfriend.

 

I would quote the latest scientific literature, delve deeply into the relevant scriptures and historical references, sprinkling it all with a healthy measure of my own sense of self-importance, and my disdain at the thought of my forefathers swinging by their tails (their necks maybe…but not their tails.)

 

If only I had known that instead of spending all those hours reading and studying to form an argument for creationism…I could have just had a child.

 

Having now, as a stay-at-home father, spent countless hours in exhaustive research (by which I mean the ten minutes immediately preceding the writing of this article, once Jeopardy was over) I have discovered that there is no way that the human race could have  possibly survived the natural selection process.

 

This is because all of us (with the possible exception of H. Ross Perot) started out as babies, and babies, from the moment they awake are preoccupied with only two thoughts:

 

  1. How can I get that (toy, food, chainsaw, etc) into my hand/mouth/nose/or any additional orifice?
  2. Once I have that in my hand (etc, etc), how can I kill myself with it.

 

Seriously, I’m fairly certain that my daughter spends a third of each day gauging the possible effects of plunging everything around her into her eyes. Another third is spent measuring each object she finds (including the dog) to see if she can lodge it in her throat.  And finally, the last third is spent in detailed analysis of just what household object would create the longest fall to the floor, giving extra points for subsequent bounces.

 

I’m convinced that these reflections are for the sole purpose of bursting into tears, screaming as loudly as possible, and basically making her parents wonder what kind of a benevolent God would allow morons like us to have a child.

 

For some examples of how this understanding negates any chance of an evolutionary process, let’s go back a million-billion years (or whatever carbon-dating says this week) and take a look at our supposed forebears…

 

Scenario 1:

  1. Caveman and Cavewoman learn to create fire.
  2. Caveman and Cavewoman have (according to popular fiction writers) some VERY explicit sex…thereby creating Cavebaby.
  3. Cavebaby immediately flings itself into the fire.
  4. Caveman and Cavewoman choose to domesticate the dog instead of having more children.

 

Scenario 2:

  1. Cavemen learn to hunt in groups, thereby providing more substantial protein sources to feed their family-clans through the winter.
  2. Caveman learns to use tools and create the means to carry these enormous carcasses back to their caves.
  3. Cavebaby immediately chokes to death in an attempt to swallow a whole mastodon…which it probably found under the couch.

 

Scenario 3:

  1. Caveman and Cavewoman learn to build shelters to better follow the migrating herds that provide their food.
  2. Caveman, after putting cavebaby down for a nap, kicks back to watch Jeopardy.
  3. Cavebaby, as yet unable to sit up or crawl, seizes the opportunity, and manages to climb the near-vertical sides of the tee-pee, and immediately flings itself to the frozen tundra, then rolls into the fire…while choking on a mastodon.

 

These may lead you to think…

 

“Hey, those cavemen looked a lot like H. Ross Perot!”

                                                     

But no, what it should lead you to think is that there is no way that ancient cave dwellers, who didn’t even have the benefit of a gazillion-dollar “Babies-R-Us” industry to make sure that their unscented, chemical-free baby-wipes were kept at an optimal temperature, could have possibly raised an infant to an age that it could survive on it’s own.

(Currently age 37 ½, but may have been younger back then…)

 

Here’s my own, brief, scenario of what actually happened…

 

Adam & Eve: “Hey, we just ate from the tree of knowledge! Now we know everything that God knows! We can handle any situation that arises with wisdom and understanding!”

God: Oh yeah? *Poof*

Adam & Eve: “Hey…what’s that?”

God: “You can call him Cain.”

 

Now, if you’ll excuse me I have to run. My daughter is on the roof again, and she may be choking on the dog.

 

Thank god that the mastodons are extinct!

xxx

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