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Politics : Evolution -- Ignore unavailable to you. Want to Upgrade?

To: Greg or e who wrote (23830)	3/29/2012 6:42:02 AM
From: 2MAR$	Read Replies (1) \| Respond to of 69300

All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned every one to his own way; and the LORD hath laid on him the iniquity of us all. Lost little misfit shleps like you ? .. Gone asstray lying constantly on the internet about being a sunday school teacher who didn't even know the verses the most popular story of Exodus ? Thats when you engage in anything thats near a direct conversation because you get exposed for a dunce everytime you do . And you have the nerve to ask others what they know or don't , lying deceptive fundmentalist asswipe who got himself outted .

To: Greg or e who wrote (23830)	3/29/2012 6:49:45 AM
From: 2MAR$	Read Replies (2) \| Respond to of 69300

"Is God willing to prevent evil, but not able? Then he is not omnipotent. Is he able, but not willing? Then he is malevolent. Is he both able and willing? Then whence cometh evil? Is he neither able nor willing? Then why call him God?"

To: Greg or e who wrote (23830)	3/29/2012 6:53:02 AM
From: 2MAR$	Read Replies (1) \| Respond to of 69300

What do you think this passge refers too : “To be, or not to be, that is the question: Whether 'tis Nobler in the mind to suffer The Slings and Arrows of outrageous Fortune, Or to take Arms against a Sea of troubles, And by opposing end them: to die, to sleep No more; and by a sleep, to say we end The heart-ache, and the thousand Natural shocks That Flesh is heir to? 'Tis a consummation Devoutly to be wished. To die to sleep, To sleep, perchance to Dream; Ay, there's the rub, For in that sleep of death, what dreams may come, When we have shuffled off this mortal coil, Must give us pause. There's the respect That makes Calamity of so long life: For who would bear the Whips and Scorns of time, The Oppressor's wrong, the proud man's Contumely, The pangs of despised Love, the Law’s delay, The insolence of Office, and the Spurns That patient merit of the unworthy takes, When he himself might his Quietus make With a bare Bodkin? Who would Fardels bear, To grunt and sweat under a weary life, But that the dread of something after death, The undiscovered Country, from whose bourn No Traveller returns, Puzzles the will, And makes us rather bear those ills we have, Than fly to others that we know not of. Thus Conscience does make Cowards of us all, And thus the Native hue of Resolution Is sicklied o'er, with the pale cast of Thought, And enterprises of great pitch and moment, With this regard their Currents turn awry, And lose the name of Action. Soft you now, The fair Ophelia? Nymph, in thy Orisons Be all my sins remembered.”