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Politics : Should God be replaced? -- Ignore unavailable to you. Want to Upgrade?

To: Solon who wrote (19210)	1/31/2005 11:51:24 AM
From: Greg or e	Read Replies (1) \| Respond to of 28931

<<"Juvenile gibberish" were your words!>> Well of course when ever you use a term it's always appropriate and everyone else is a simpleton. Your own medicine never tastes as sweet when you get it in return. Your comments came out of the blue as I was not even addressing you. Then I am to blame for not answering juvenile unasked questions???? The fact is the DNA points to a single source; does it not? This you ignore and would rather change the subject. Understandable but completely unrelated as usual. That way you don't have to even touch the fact that Antony Flew, (who up till now, must have been one of your big heroes) has come clean and admitted (that which is obvious to all but the most vehement fundamentalist Atheist) that which has been created must have a Creator. He is not a Christian, at least not yet, but I admire his honesty none the less.

To: Solon who wrote (19210)	2/10/2005 2:22:43 AM
From: 2MAR$	Read Replies (1) \| Respond to of 28931

"Enigmas" * Was enjoyable to take the "MindWalk again with Liv Ulman ...an interesting & stimulating movie still ... fritjofcapra.net Towards the end of their walk around the island-abbey of Mont Saint Michel , the poet of the group recites this somehow powerfully strange piece, from Pablo Neruda ....enjoy! poemhunter.com "Enigmas" You've asked me what the lobster is weaving there with his golden feet? I reply, the ocean knows this. You say, what is the ascidia waiting for in its transparent bell? What is it waiting for? I tell you it is waiting for time, like you. You ask me whom the Macrocystis alga hugs in its arms? Study, study it, at a certain hour, in a certain sea I know. You question me about the wicked tusk of the narwhal, and I reply by describing how the sea unicorn with the harpoon in it dies. You enquire about the kingfisher's feathers, which tremble in the pure springs of the southern tides? Or you've found in the cards a new question touching on the crystal architecture of the sea anemone, and you'll deal that to me now? You want to understand the electric nature of the ocean spines? The armored stalactite that breaks as it walks? The hook of the angler fish, the music stretched out in the deep places like a thread in the water? I want to tell you the ocean knows this, that life in its jewel boxes is endless as the sand, impossible to count, pure, and among the blood-colored grapes time has made the petal hard and shiny, made the jellyfish full of light and untied its knot, letting its musical threads fall from a horn of plenty made of infinite mother-of-pearl. I am nothing but the empty net which has gone on ahead of human eyes, dead in those darknesses, of fingers accustomed to the triangle, longitudes on the timid globe of an orange. I walked around as you do, investigating the endless star, and in my net, during the night, I woke up naked, the only thing caught, a fish trapped inside the wind. Translated by Robert Bly Pablo Neruda