Darwinism's medieval superstition

One of my biggest pet peeves is the dogmatic arrogance of some who elevate Darwinian evolution to the status of Proven Science, especially when they follow that assertion by equating (by implication or outright) that anyone who believes otherwise is delusional or in denial, is a "flat-earther" or deficient in their use or capacity of reason, is superstitious... and on and on it goes. Such ad hominem is better suited to an electoral campaign than to the reasoned discourse of adults advocating divergent views. And then they accuse us of being "medieval", as if 'twere a sin to hold to any position advocated before the Enlightenment.

I'll have further comment about Darwinianism and Creationism in later posts, but let me say this: it was until only recently (within my own three decades) taught as a point of "proof" of Darwin's model that the embryonic development of vertebrates re-enacted the upward stair of evolution. This was demonstrated with (more or less inaccurately drawn) diagrams (you've probably seen them: did the books even once use photos for the sequence?) of how the human in utero looked like the fish and the turtle and the hog and the salamander. This is not science. It is a medieval superstition. But through Darwin's time and nearly to our own, it was Official Doctrine in many, many books.

On what basis do I cite it as "medieval superstition" so boldly? Does Dante's Divine Comedy do for a reference? As Alighieri says in Canto XXV of the Purgatorio (my emphases):

There each [zygote] unite together; one disposed
To endure, to act the other, through that power
Derived from whence it came; and being met,
It' gins to work, coagulating first;
Then vivifies what its own substance made
Consist. With animation now indued,
The active virtue (differing from a plant
No further, than that this is on the way,
And at its limit that) continues yet
To operate, that now it moves, and feels,
As sea - sponge clinging to the rock: and there
Assumes the organic powers its seed convey'd.
This is the moment, son! at which the virtue,
That from the generating heart proceeds,
Is pliant and expansive; for each limb
Is in the heart by forgetful nature plann'd.
How babe of animal becomes, remains
For thy considering. At this point, more wise,
Than thou, has err'd, making the soul disjoin'd
From passive intellect, because he saw
No organ for the latter's use assign'd.

"Open thy bosom to the truth that comes.
Know, soon as in the embryo, to the brain
Articulation is complete, then turns
The primal Mover with a smile of joy
On such great work of nature; and imbreathes
New spirit replete with virtue, that what here
Active it finds, to its own substance draws;
And forms an individual soul, that lives,
And feels, and bends reflective on itself.

Likewise it is this notion of human life, particularly human life opposed from animal, beginning at the completion of gestation, that in other form is used for legal argument to justify the popular infanticide of abortion, preemptive culling of the allegedly Unfit by the self-appointed Fit who Survive...

The worst side of ASD

I would have to say that communication is the most frustrating part of being an Aspie: the difficulty, even inability, to communicate clearly with others face to face. That's why I write, partly: I can choose my words more slowly, one at a time, and go back to revise and spell-check and grammar-check what I say, and wven even cut whole paragraphs as necessary. But when I'm talking, I can't do that. I stammer, I lose my trains of thought, I cross my sentences and so forth. Psychological strain makes it even harder sometimes. I see Tyke struggling with it too. We've been trying to teach him not to whine (and can he whine!) when he wants to express disapproval. "Say 'No, Sir,' or 'No, thank you.' Stop whining: use words," sometimes several times in an hour. And sometimes he complies. But if he's upset, neither the firmest nor gentlest admonition will get through the whining. Several times I have not cut through the desperate (and annoying! No end of annoying! But he comes by it honestly) whining and howling until I took hold of Tyke's jaw and turned his head to face me. I know how disruptive eye contact can be* so I try not to prolong it more than necessary, but sometimes just locking his gaze, then releasing it, is what it takes to break in on him in his crises to snap him out of them. But how much of the crisis comes from insecurity about being able to tell us what he wants and know that we understand? Even I, in my thirties, catch myself (or am caught) resorting to gesture and signalling when I ought to say things in plain English. Beautiful caught me doing it just this afternoon.

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* See the Bad Catholic for more on the issue of making eye contact.