Michael Earl Riemer’s critique of “evolutionism”–as a false religion, a comedy, and a pseuo-science–is by no means gentle. Reindeer Don’t Fly (2018) really lays it on the line.
Evolution fairy tales have become part of our culture. More people question them now than used to, which means the good guys are scoring some points. But we still have a very long way to go before the spell is broken.
Riemer’s favorite tool is mockery. His targets have set themselves up as The Smartest People In The World, and their balloon needs popping. Leftids proclaim themselves to be wise and then get oodles of mileage out of it. Their prestige props up their foolish and often wicked notions, hiding the fact that they’re notions at all. So they need taking down a peg, and Mr. Riemer is more than happy to do it.
If you’d like some answers–well, actually a lot of answers–to the question, “So what’s wrong with evolution?”, this book will serve you well.
Libs and progs are popping their buttons over “a child’s first book of Evolution”–Grandmother Fish by somebody named Jonathan Tweet. NPR went into ecstasy about it, and the publishers are happy they got it out in time for Christmas.
So this Christmas, folks, give the gift of unbelief! Don’t worry about dying in your sins, because you’re gonna die anyway and it doesn’t matter whether you’ve done good or evil, and what the hell, the only things that really matter are Science and The State, those things are immortal…
You don’t even have to be an atheist: any liberal Christian who craves the approval of the ungodly can pump this stuff into a child’s head.
Well, this is what happens when you divorce Christmas from Jesus Christ. You have nothing left but greed and folly.
Ironic, isn’t it? We Christians in a Christian country–the Europeans marvel at the Christianity of America, not being able to see it up close like we do, and thus not able to appreciate how shallow it’s become–are ready to give away Christmas itself to the Enemy.
Can we please stand up a little? Can we please make some resistance?
At least Esau got a bowl of soup for his birthright.
We have sold ours for–well, if I start saying it, I won’t be able to stop.