Well there I was minding my own business in the Cafe of the Natural History Museum…
when I overheard that some American has had the nerve to make a film called Expelled traducing natural selection and championing something called ‘intelligent design’. I thought we had settled Mr Paley’s watchmaker nonsense in 1859.
I am used to bad reviews: I was much savaged in the press when I published The Origin of Species, but Expelled holds me responsible for a particularly vile chapter of genocide which occurred in the 1930s and 40s. I do not recall advocating genocide, indeed distinctly remember writing with anguish about the massacres of the Indians in South America during my voyage on HMS Beagle. Could it be that my critics have formed opinions about my work without actually reading it? Surely not.
Anyway, one evening I looked up to see a certain Mr Stein gawping at me. Executive Producer of Expelled, no less, and I am afraid it was more than even a marble statue could stand!
I urge you to click the link above. Others have noticed Mr Stein’s presence at my marble feet, and have commented in a most amusing fashion.
And so I am back. Nature has been so kind as to give me a blog and asked me to cast my eye over modern scientific developments. A little stiff in the joints, and with some catching up to do (if only I had known about genetics in 1858!) but if there is anything you wish me to consider, please leave a comment or contact chazdarwin(at)gmail.com
Dear Chaz,
Welcome back. I always knew you’d be a blogger had there been a computer and wireless at Down House.
Nice fish slapping maneuver, by the way.
Applause
I’m very much looking forward to your take on this weird world we call the 21st century. Some topic suggestions coming soon, after coffee…
In admiration,
Karen
You hit someone with a fish?
Were you stoned, or are you just losing your marbles?
(C’mon, it’s Friday afternoon, I’m allowed one dodgy pun at least).
So, Charles (and welcome by the way):
Those stories about the barrel on the Beagle: are they true?
Cath: my preferred means of dealing with Mr Stein would have been with a cast-iron frying pan. I only had the leavings of a forgetful curator of fish to hand.
Richard: those rumours resulted in a protracted legal action, which Mr Dickens turned into Bleak House. We should speak of this no more.
Golly-Gee (to use an Americanism) Charles, what a wonderful time to return to us, to blog here on the world wide web. Perhaps you’ll be able to catch up with your old pet, Lonesome George – he’s in need of some company, and a word of advice about the birds and the bees.
Welcome, friend.
Welcome, Darwin… I’ll be looking forward to new material to disperse…
Welcome Chuckie D! Having embraced my inner fish
I just have to ask if that was a transitional fossil you used to slap Ben Stein ;-)