God tells Kent Hovind to quit whining

Do you want to know what God thinks? Just ask Kent Hovind, tax-evader, self-appointed martyr, and flim-flamming creationist. Apparently, prison life sucks.

GOD: I know this is hard for you. How many men in there are away from their families?

KH: Nearly all of them, Lord. Some only see their family once a year—and some not at all. I know what you are going to say, Lord, that now I know how they feel and can be a better witness to them, right?

GOD: Very good, son. You are starting to get the picture!

KH: But, Lord, five hundred miles away?

GOD: You are still in America, son. Would you prefer…Siberia?

KH: Oh, no, South Carolina is just fine! Hey, Lord, why did you let me slip on those steps in Atlanta and bruise my ankle so badly?

GOD: I needed you to see the new prison doctor that just came from India. He knows almost nothing about Me, son. I know you didn’t have much time with him, but you did tell him about your Website. He will look at it and read the “How To Be Saved” article. That will start him on the road to salvation later this year.

It's almost as surreal as a trip into the mind of John A. Davison.

Almost.




[Link via PZ]

coming clean: I am one source of the Discovery Institute's secret research

Steve Reuland doesn't think much of Bruce Chapman's claims that the Discovery Institute's research into Intelligent Design (ID) is going on in secret, for fear of censorship by the Darwinian Establishment.

Reuland, though, is wrong to dismiss Chapman as a paranoid "fool." You see, I am one of those secret scientists, testing the predictions of ID and writing papers, waiting for the right time to expose the fraud that is Darwinism.

I can no longer sit in silence while my colleagues are assailed for their assiduous efforts. Though I place my integrity and my career on the line, I'm no longer afraid. Today I stand up to be counted. Today I'm coming out of the ID closet.

My Setup
Thanks to a $500,000 grant from the Discovery Institute, I have set up a laboratory in my garage, complete with beakers, Bunsen burners, nifty multicolored chemical mixtures that explode when combined, plenty of sublimating dry ice for that bubbling mad scientist effect, a gently used supercomputer waiting for the right programmer, a gigantic periodic table, an authentic replica slide rule, and last, but not least, a comfy leather chair with matching ottoman.

The grant also pays for two assistants, one to perform the experiments, and the other to make coffee and massage my feet after a hard day of calculating Complex Specified Information (CSI).

My Research
Quite frankly, there isn't much to prove. Darwinism has been so thoroughly dismantled by my colleagues--Dembski, Behe, Davison--that it sometimes seems like a fool's errand to prove ID. But I have the grant, so I suppose I'm obliged to do something.

Without going into specifics, since I wouldn't want to spoil the surprise, here are some of the studies that will be published in coming months.

"Complex Specified Information, or Specified Informed Complexity? The Difference is Substantial."

"Still Waiting: Evolving Wings on Frogs Through Genetic Mutation and Recombination."

"Life Cycle of Escherichia Coli Points to Playful Designer."

"No 'There' There: Analysis of over 50,000 Evolutionary Experiments Reveals A Dearth of Evidence."

"Retroviral Insertions in Related Species Too Similar to be the Result of Chance, Surpassing the Universal Probability Bound and Thus Proving Design."

"Laughing All the Way: Irreducible Core Components of the World's Funniest Joke."

My Prediction
Darwinism is in a permanent vegetative state. Science will pull the plug within a decade.

big crank, keep on turnin'

John A. Davison still hasn't learned. Instead of creating a new post, he's gone and created a whole new blog, New and Unimproved Prescribed Evolution. Don't click through unless you have the mental and spiritual fortitude to enter Davison's crackpot universe.

the dead ends of the blogosphere II

One blog, one post, 849 comments.

I know John A. Davison is a favorite whipping boy of this blog, but come on. 849 comments!

Visit if you dare.

John A. Davison runs for office

A play in one act.

[The year is 2006. On stage: two lecterns facing the audience, at an oblique angle to each other, spaced ten feet apart, microphones if the theater is large. The lectern at left should be gaudily decorated with tricolored bunting, backed by signs reading "DAVISON FOR GOVERNOR, 2000" and "Desperate Times Require Desperate Measures." Seated atop the right lectern is a fresh turnip, medium size, cheerful disposition. The turnip is mute, as it ought to be. At appropriate times a prompter should hold aloft a poster that reads "APPLAUSE." The audience will ignore the instruction; after all, there is no audience.]

[Davison enters from the left, stands behind the lectern, smiling and waving, pumping his fist in a victory salute.]

Davison: Greetings, friends and foes. I am here today to debate my esteemed opponent in the upcoming, and to show the great state of Vermont my plan for action, for success, for greatness in the coming centuries. I promise I will humbly shepherd you through the storm, attend to your every need, right every wrong, promote truth and justice and liberty at every turn.

Turnip:

[The turnip sits quietly, meditatively. Ponders.]

Davison: Let us begin the debate. What do you say to my proposal to replace all teachers with robo-drones, at considerable savings?

Turnip:

[Peace. Detachment. Very zen.]

Davison: I do not regard myself as a hand-waving tree hugger and am sorry you have to resort to that sort of tactic. What do you expect that to accomplish?

Turnip:

[Turnip remains silent, a gesture of what? Insolence? Dignity? Leadership?]

Davison: Well I see you have resurfaced with your usual lack of tact, your hallmark. As a matter of fact your knee jerk responses are the best evidence imaginable that even you are a victim, as we all are. You are one hostile cat.

Turnip:

[Such calm, such repose! We should all admire this turnip, this laconic vegetable. Ah--if only it would speak!]

Davison: [his voice rising slowly in pitch and volume, eventually reaching a squeaky soprano] Your bluster and innuendo do not impress me. You bore me. Got that? Write that down. You are proof positive, a self demonstrated liar. Slink back to the fort and send out another of your cowardly cronies to spew his venom here for all to see.

Turnip:

Davison: You are such a masochist and far too stupid to realize it!... [He pauses, uncertain] I declare victory by virtue of the default of my adversaries.... [Again, a pause] I'll have a banana-filled cucumber now....

[Davison slices open the cucumber and eviscerates the banana. He bites into it without peeling, savoring its delicious sweetness.]

Turnip:

[The turnip is nonplussed.]

Davison: [Davison turns and faces the audience, which isn't there, and looks toward the cameras, which aren't there either. Clutching his banana, he smiles, and squeaks.] I'm having the time of my life!

[Curtain]



Update: Read the prequel.

the Davison crack-up continues

You simply can't make this up.

Where are all those "hit and runners" as I have grown to call them. What happened to Paul Yost, davescot and most recently, j daley and the others who leave their comments, march off in a huff, never to be heard from again. Don't they realize that results in a default in this tournament of ideas. Are they also prepared to duplicate the way proponents of the Darwinian and Fundamentalist mythologies have always responded to their critics? Are they prepared to prove that the one thing we learn from history is that we don't learn from history? I have responded to what has been presented here and, if no responses ensue, I win they lose. Do they understand the rules of this very interesting game we are playing here? They may all write that down. But remember it is not just me but some of the finest minds of two centuries that have won. I still have heard nothing from the "heavyweights" and I use that term very loosely. I no longer wonder why. They are AFRAID to present their blind convictions before the clear light of the truth. They MUST NOT and for that reason alone, they CANNOT and WILL NOT. It is all so very revealing, at least to this investigator.

It is hard to believe isn't it?

"Never give in... never, never, never, never, in nothing great or small, large or petty, never give in except to convictions of honor and good sense."
Winston Churchill

and so to bed.

John A. Davison orders a pizza

A play in one act

[The stage is split in half. On the left, Davison's study--a room full of books, piles of books, thousands upon thousands of books. In the center a desk covered in manuscripts. Davison occupies the chair, quill in hand, dashing out another screed. Outside it is snowing, or raining, or sleeting.

On the right, a telephone on a card table. Seated at the table a youth, gender unimportant. Maintains perfect stillness until the phone rings--as it must.]



Davison: It is a frigid night, and possibly raining, snowing, sleeting perhaps. In five strokes of the quill I will have completely gutted Darwinism and replaced it with Bergism! Ah... but I am faint with hunger. To the telephone, anon! [He digs under stacks of manuscripts to find the phone. Success.] Hello, Domino's? I'd like to order a pizza. [to self] Damn these tiny buttons.

Youth: [picking up phone] Thank you for calling Domino's. How may I be of service?

Davison: I would like to order a pepperoni pizza. Extra cheese. Oh, and with olives.

Youth: Is that all?

Davison: That's about it. What's the total?

Youth: Twelve eighty including tax. Your phone number?

Davison: 555-6219. 232 4th Ave southeast... My name is John... John Davison... John A. Davison... I will not soon be forgotten. [awkward pause] I have my own blog.

Youth: [nonplussed] Uh... great. That pizza will be delivered in about a half hour. [tries to hang up]

Davison: Hold on there, youngster. Is it finished yet?

Youth: We've hardly had--

Davison: Okay... well... is it finished now?

Youth: Sir, I haven't even called the order in--

Davison: How about now?

Youth: No.

Davison: Now?

Youth: Still no.

Davison: I've changed my mind. I want salami instead of pepperoni. Genoa salami. With the fatty parts cut out.

Youth: I'm afraid we're--

Davison: Is it done yet?

Youth: Look, Mister John A. Davison, you have no idea how this works. Pizza doesn't appear magically when you say the word. It's a process. It takes time. Twenty minutes, plus driving time. Got it? Goodbye. [Youth and Davison hang up simultaneously]

Davison:[Davison picks up the phone again, dialing.] I have completely eviscerated Darwinism, you know.

Youth: You again? Look, Mr. Davison, the cheese is finished, and it's going in the oven, so--

Davison: Is it done?

Youth: Uh, no.

Davison: Then we have time to chat. You see, we deal here with fundamental differences in the way we view the world which I believe are rigidly fixed in our genome or, if I may use the term, "prescribed." I know that doen't sound right but I have no other explanation. There is also the problem of pride. Does anyone really expect those who have dedicated their professional lives to a phantom to easily come to grips with just that? Yet that is exactly what the situation boils down to. Can you imagine Dawkins conceding that everything he has ever written is meaningless drivel? In a way it is a blessing that Gould and Mayr were spared that realization but I am have no compassion for Dawkins whatsoever. It will be interesting to see how he responds to the inevitable. We shouldn't have to wait much longer.

Youth: I'm not sure exactly what you're talking about--

Davison: Well I guess nobody wants to hear about how many times life may or may not have been created. That is too bad. I may present that evidence anyway. For the moment let me explain how I intend to go about it.

Youth: [Slams phone down] Asshole.

Davison: [not missing a beat] As long as there exists simple criteria sufficient to account for a common ancestor, one can assume that such an ancestor existed. However, even that may not be so because it is possible that organisms which share a common genetic background may have independently aquired that condition through separate and independent evolutionary events. That is to say that evolution may have been repeatable. I do not favor this view but it cannot be eliminated at present.... Ah... What's that beeping noise? [Looks quizzically at the phone. Hangs up the receiver. Pauses. Picks it up again.]

[masking voice with an atrocious accent.] Ees thees Daw-mee-nose?


[Fadeout]



Update: Thanks for the link, PZ. Welcome, Pharyngulans. Check out "search me" for other humorous pieces. Update update: Davison has saved the best for last.

Update update update: Not content, Davison runs for office.