Page 116 - A Historical Lie: The Stone Age
P. 116

A HISTORICAL LIE:                        THE STONE AGE




                will be worn away, and very little will remain of the furnishings in-
                side. Even less will be left if it is subjected to earthquakes, floods or
                storms. All that will be left will be stone blocks that take much longer
                to be eroded away. Even then, stone materials will be worn away
                into smaller fragments. On the basis of these blocks of stone, there-
                fore, it is impossible to make interpretations about the daily lives of
                societies of that time. Their social relationships, beliefs, tastes and
                artistic understanding cannot be deduced with any measure of cer-
                tainty.
                     Yet evolutionists still attempt the impossible, adorning various
                discoveries with fictitious interpretations and inventing various sce-
                narios. Producing fantasies by distorting the facts is something that
                is actually criticized by some evolutionists themselves! They have
                even given this approach the name of "Just So Stories."
                     That term appears in a criticism by the famous evolutionist pa-
                leontologist Stephen Jay Gould, which term he borrowed from the

                1902 book of the same name by the British writer and poet Rudyard
                Kipling (1865-1936). In this book of tales intended for children,
                Kipling told a number of imaginative stories about how living things
                might have acquired their various organs and attributes. About the
                elephant's trunk, for example, he wrote this:
                     In the High and Far-Off Times the Elephant, O Best Beloved, had no
                     trunk. He had only a blackish, bulgy nose . . . But there was one
                     Elephant—a new Elephant, an Elephant's Child—who was full of sa-
                     tiable curiosity . . . So he went on . . .till he trod on what he thought was
                     a log of wood at the very edge of the great grey-green, greasy Limpopo
                     River, all set about with fever-trees. But it was really the Crocodile . . .
                     Then the Elephant's Child put his head down close to the Crocodile's
                     musky, tusky mouth, and the Crocodile caught him by his little nose . .









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