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Sunday, April 27, 2014

199. Knowledge



I knew better. Everyone said I should have known better. Anyone could have told me. Would I have listened?

Apparently not.I’m visiting friends in Cincinnati, Ohio. Someone said, “Why don’t we go to the “Creation Museum? It’s just a short distance away in Kentucky.”So I thought, maybe a person should go see what it is all about.

Maybe a person should. But they certainly shouldn’t take an alien from another planet. I didn’t really. He just appeared. This young boy suddenly started following us. I knew immediately who it was but kept the secret to myself. It was embarrassing enough just to be there. It was like sneaking in to see a professional wrestling match, but some things you just have to experience for yourself.

I knew for sure it was he as soon as we reached the first exhibit that boldly stated the belief that the world was 6,000 years old. By this time he was standing with us and was evidently part of our group. He waited until a large group had assembled in front of the exhibit before he spoke.

“That’s going to come as a hell of surprise to the Roonkalarians.”

I ignored him but my friend couldn’t resist. “Why is that?” he said.

“They’ve been on their way here for a half-million of your so-called ‘years’ and they are only half way.”

A mother shielded her daughter’s ears and moved away from us. I tried to do the same but he stuck with us like glue.

He was quiet until we reached an exhibit that explained how dinosaurs and homo sapiens lived together. It was quite simple.

“It says here that dinosaurs were all vegetarians until man started sinning,” he said.

“That explains it then,” my friend said. “How they all lived together in harmony.”

C.W. said, “What is sin?”

“It’s when someone murders an obnoxious kid,” I said, suddenly realizing that a family of four had moved in beside me. I hurried off.

He was mercifully quiet until we reached a diorama depicting a nude Adam and Eve enjoying a tropical lagoon while a huge serpent hovered above them.

“Hey,” C.W. yelled for all to hear. “They ought to label this one ‘The Heavenly Hot Tub.”

I fled.

It was no use. He caught me at Noah’s Ark. There, we stood inside a “scale model” of a portion of a boat that was to have held two of every species on the planet. There was an animated diorama of an elderly Noah barking orders to workers high the scaffolding. I presume they were his sons. A small-scale cross section of the ark showed a male and female deinonychus, both docile and apparently awaiting the cruise with eagerness. That’s when it happened.

A voice rang out and everyone nearby turned to it. “Hey Big Dope,” it said, “get a load of this.”

I pretended to look around and search for the person he was addressing. No chance, he ran to me and pointed to the figure of Noah, again yelling to his workers.

“Noah was from Brooklyn. Can you believe it?”

Actually, he had a point. The voice of Noah did sound as if it came straight out of Flatbush. Out of the corner of my eyes, I saw uniforms approaching and retreated from the exhibit and then from the museum.

My friends had left, pretending not to know us. One was intently studying an exhibit designed to discredit much of what Charles Darwin said and some of what he never said. The other was pretending to be part of a collection of faces depicting species close to humans, an exhibit designed disproved the tenets of natural selection.
A good job of hiding? hardly
The last words I heard were those of C.W. explaining the rudiments of space travel to a bewildered child.

I doubt that we will ever be invited back.









Plant eaters 6,000 years ago? Doubtful. - C.W.












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