Sherry Chandler » 2006 » August » 11

Belief in evolution

From LiveScience.com

A comparison of peoples’ views in 34 countries finds that the United States ranks near the bottom when it comes to public acceptance of evolution. Only Turkey ranked lower.

Among the factors contributing to America’s low score are poor understanding of biology, especially genetics, the politicization of science and the literal interpretation of the Bible by a small but vocal group of American Christians, the researchers say.

“American Protestantism is more fundamentalist than anybody except perhaps the Islamic fundamentalist, which is why Turkey and we are so close,” said study co-author Jon Miller of Michigan State University.

This would be really embarassing if it weren’t so frightening. Read the whole article.

Link through Washington Monthly. Heraclitean Fire links to this article at The Panda’s Thumb.

This post was written by sherry

Possum contemplates the big world

Montaigne and his Kitten

Hither, Blanche! ‘Tis you and I.
Now that not a fool is by
To say we fool it—let us fool!
We, you know, in mind are one,
Alumni of no fagging school;
Superfluous business still we shun;
And ambition we let go,
The while poor dizzards strain and strive,

Rave and slave, drudge and drive,
Chasing ever, to and fro,
After ends that seldom gain
Scant exemption from life’s pain.

But preachment proses, and so I.
Blanche, round your furred neck let me tie
This Order, with brave ribbon, see,—
The King he pinned it upon me.

But hark ye, sweeting,—well-a-day!
Forever shall ye purr this way—
Forever comfortable be?
Don’t you wish now ’twas for ye,
Our grandiouse eternity?
Pish! what fops we humans here,
Won’t admit within our sphere
The whitest doe, nor even thee—
We, the spotless humans, we!

Preaching, prosing—scud and run,
Earnestness is far from fun.
Bless me, Blanche; we’ll frisk tonight,
Hearts be ours lilt and light—
Gambol, skip, and frolic, play:
Wise ones fool it while they may!

— Herman Melville, from Selected Poems of Herman Melville (Doubleday Anchor, 1964)


When I play with my cat, who knows but that she regards me more as a plaything that I do her?
- Michel de Montaigne

This post was written by sherry