Not Very Intelligent Design? Socrates vs Testicles

Testicles swinging in the breeze – intelligent design?

Testicles
Socrates vs Testicles 419 BC

Kneeling Man: Oi, God, I found some pictures of Testicles in an encyclopedia. I think maybe I should have put them in my new book, Not Very Intelligent Design.

God: Uh huh.

KM: They’re about things from way back in the day before your son, the sweet, sweet, sweet baby Jesus, was even born.

God: I can see that.

KM: Do you know what they are?

God: Of course I do. I know everything, Neel. You know that.

KM: Do you think I should have put them in my new book, Not Very Intelligent Design?

God: That’s a very unsubtle attempt at SEO, Neel. Probably won’t work either. Anyway, what do Greek philosophers have to do with your trashy book?

KM: No need to be snarky. You gave us free will. Freedom of expression. Some of us like trashy.

God: Answer the question.

KM: Well, it explains the background behind the naming of our testicles.

God: You sure about that?

KM: Yep. Socrates is obviously in pain here.

Testicles 2
Testicles are not a good place to be kicked

Scholars are divided on whether this is A, a depiction of the infamous incident in the Greek forum in 419 BC, when Testicles scored an emphatic but immoral victory over Socrates, by kicking him in the spuds, or B, a more mundane occurrence later in the same year with Socrates’ anguish arising solely from the nauseating monotony of seemingly endless Testicular stanzas, Socrates having learned not to interrupt Testicles no matter how painful or boring one of his poems may be.

God: Nauseating monotony indeed. I think you’re making shit up here, Neel.

KM: We all do it, God. You not only made it our speciality, it’s how you came about.

God: What about the other picture?

Testicles 3
Testicles asserting his manhood

KM: This one’s definitely from the the post-tolchock-in-the-Socratic-yarblockos period. It shows a scene in which Testicles, now unquestionably the alpha dog in the forum, holds up a finger to indicate one more poem. Behind Socrates the assembly groan and wail their displeasure, clearly indicating that their ears can take no more, as Socrates begs for mercy, and possibly hints at offering an unsavoury favour in return for aural reprieve.

God: Sounds like bullshit to me, Neel.

KM: If it was written in a book, such as Not Very Intelligent Design, that would make it just as true as stuff written in other books, like the ones about you, for instance.

God: You sound like you need a good night’s sleep, Neel.

KM: Night, God.

God: Night, Neel.

KM: Behold the medieval super heros – Knight God and Sir Kneel Ingman. Arise, Sir Kneel.

God: Do you just say anything that comes into your head?

KM: Pretty much.

God: Night, Neel.

KM: Knight God.

For those who’ve not yet read it, here’s an excerpt about Testicles from Not Very Intelligent Design which is associated with the above rant.

TESTICLES

Testicles was not a Greek philosopher. He was a Greek poet. Famous for being the worst of all the Greek poets. Testicles, the body parts, were named after Testicles the Greek poet because most Greek citizens, if offered the choice, would rather take a swift kick to the nuts than sit through a long and tedious poetry recital by Testicles.

A gentleman’s bollocks hang down between his legs in a sack that offers all the impact protection of a sheet of soggy toilet paper. Which is crazy, as the nuts themselves are as sensitive a body part as anyone would ever care to imagine. Even a mild impact or gentle compression of the plums, is enough to make a man’s eyes water. And a decent kick in the nads will drop any man to the ground and have him writhing in agony for some time. Delicate organs, permanently swinging in the breeze, constantly at risk of accidental knocks or squishing is an obviously stupid design fault. So, why are they hanging out like that? The reason they need to be on the outside, apparently, is that they only function correctly a few degrees below core body temperature. So they need to be air-cooled. Seriously.

What genius would design a body part that didn’t function properly at body temperature? And then come up with a sack as a solution to with the problem. It’s as clever as an outhouse at the bottom of the garden.

What makes it completely ridiculous is that it’s so very easily fixed. Make them operate at body temperature, like every single other organ, and put them inside. Out of harm’s way. (To look on the bright side, I guess we’re lucky our kidneys and lungs aren’t hanging out below our armpits.)

Human testes initially develop inside the abdomen. Later, during gestation, they migrate through the abdominal wall into the scrotum. This causes two weak points where hernias can later form. Prior to modern surgical techniques, complications from hernias, such as intestinal blockage and gangrene, usually resulted in death. Another great feature of this total design abomination.

Sloths, elephants, anteaters and birds are just some of the many animals with internal testicles. Which obviously work perfectly well at body temperature. So there’s no excuse for this design stupidity. Or is it worse than mere stupidity? Is it deliberately sadistic? Why the hell are they so bloody sensitive?

The male tuberous bush cricket, Platycleis affinis, has testes that account for 14% of his body weight. It’s a good thing for Jiminy that his plums are inside, rather than hanging out in the breeze. If a man’s nuts were of the same proportion, there’d be a couple of rugby balls flailing around his knees.

Which is nothing compared to Viz comic book hero, Buster Gonad, the boy with unfeasibly large testicles. During a storm, Buster’s gonads were zapped by cosmic rays which enlarged them to an enormous size. Buster’s gonads are so big he has to use a wheelbarrow to go for a walk. True fact.

Balls on the outside  –  0/10 (Stupid beyond belief.)

Not Very Intelligent Design at Amazon.com

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The Not Very Intelligent Design of Knees

Knees – the weakest link?

Kneeling Man: Oi, God, I just realised I didn’t put quite enough about knees in my new book, Not Very Intelligent Design.

God: Really? I think you said more than enough about everything, quite frankly.

Knees need a smaller hammer
Knees are tapped with special hammers

KM: When it comes to knees, I understand why you stuffed up.

God: I don’t stuff up. I may work in mysterious ways, but I don’t stuff up.

KM: Your first four commandments are all about praising you, right?

God: Sort of, ish, yeah…

KM: And that involves us getting down on our knees, right?

God: That’s the traditional way.

KM: Your knees don’t need to be as sturdy as ours because you don’t pray to yourself, do you? Or do you?

God: Of course not.

KM: In fact lying around on soft clouds all day means you hardly use your knees at all. So you see, making us in your own image was a stuff up. Because human knees give a lot of trouble and pain and often need replacing well before the rest of the body gives up.

God: You think I should do another big flood and start over with Humans 2.0?

KM: If you do, make sure you read my book first.

God: I know what’s in your book, Neel. I know everything.

KM: Yeah right, I’m tired. Good night.

God: Night, Neel. Sleep well.

KM: There’s another stuff up. The fact that we need a sleeping pill industry.

God: Are you still talking?

KM: No. I’m trying to sleep.

For those who’ve not yet read it
here’s an excerpt about knees from
Not Very Intelligent Design

KNEES

Knees are a problem. Mainly because they’re just not strong enough for the job. Any kind of load or stress can injure them. Fear can make them tremble, as can upright coitus. Ligaments and cartilage are easily torn. Knees can fracture, swell and freeze. And when they get a bit of age on them they can develop osteoarthritis. They should be built out of a tougher material. Like titanium. Which they probably will be if you have to have them replaced.

Knees are often hit by doctors with small hammers, although nobody’s quite sure why. It is thought that the practice was first seen in a movie called Doctor Doctor in 1943, which was the story of a single woman who was so keen to have a son who was a doctor that she legally changed her surname to Doctor, and then named her first born son Doctor, just to make sure. Unfortunately Doctor Doctor didn’t manage to qualify for medical school and went to work in a hospital as a janitor.

One day there was an emergency, and on hearing someone call doctor, Doctor Doctor looked up and before he could dispel the error, was rushed by the arm to the emergency room. A dazed looking patient was sitting on the edge of a bed and Doctor Doctor, who happened to be carrying a small hammer, was asked to diagnose the patient’s condition.

Knees
Doctor Doctor’s original knee hammer

After a moment of bewildered hesitation, Doctor Doctor commenced the consultation by giving the patient a light tap on each knee. The reflexive kicks caused the nurses to start giggling which encouraged Doctor Doctor to repeat the action. The ensuing hilarity and applause caused more and more people to gather round and Doctor Doctor was carried away in the moment, performing more and more intricate rhythmic tapping routines on the knees of the unfortunate patient, who subsequently required bilateral knee replacement surgery.

After being dismissed by the hospital, Doctor Doctor began to perform the routine as a side show in a travelling circus, before turning the act into a new branch of medicine called Reflexology, thus finally fulfilling his mother’s dreams.
Knees – 3/10 (Too fragile, insufficiently flexible.)

Excerpt from Not Very Intelligent Design –  available HERE.

Not Very Intelligent Design at Amazon.com

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Making Shit Up Isn’t The Problem

Making shit up is fine, saying it’s true isn’t

Kneeling Man: Oi, God, are you there? No? Doesn’t matter. I’m in the mood for a rant, not a conversation.

Making Shit Up
Making Shit Up – Horses Discussing the Meaning of Life

 

KM: Horses stand around in paddocks wondering what the fuck’s going on. Then they stop wondering, look down and eat grass. This goes on until something happens. Such as when someone comes along and gets on their back. They still don’t know what the fuck’s going on, but it gives them something to do. Either take the person for a ride, or try to buck them off. Or both.

When men and women sit around wondering what the fuck’s going on, some wait for something to happen (often the best thing to do if there are a few cold beers handy), and others decide to do something. They can either try to figure out what the fuck’s going on, or, if that’s too difficult (it’s called science), they can make shit up. We make shit up for entertainment mostly, but we also do it to educate. And sometimes to deceive. It’s what we do. Making shit up is one of the things that sets us apart from horses.

The shit we make up can be good or bad or brilliant. It can be poetry, or a painting, or a song, or a good story. Which can be a great experience for the person who creates it, and very enjoyable for an audience too. All good clean fun. Until the person who made the shit up claims the shit they made up isn’t made up at all, but is real, as in actually, factually real. The problems resulting from this can range from a minor spat between infants to all out war and genocide.

Penn Jillette hates it when people in the magic business pretend that magic is “magic”, as in mystical woo-woo, rather than expertly executed tricks. It puts a slightly sinister and wholly dishonest edge on entertainment that should be good clean fun. Such magicians seem to take pleasure in conning the gullible, rather than entertaining peers. I’m not sure if Penn has taken this as far as I’m about to here, but if so, I apologise. (It might be one of those things where you wake up thinking you’ve had an original thought but in fact your brain’s used dreamtime to rehash something you’ve already heard, and make you think you thought of it.)

People who put on the woo-woo may be motivated by trying to generate the guru effect, under which attractive young women are deceived into willingly offering themselves up for the sexual gratification of the mystical master.

When a charlatan finds he’s having some success with the woo-woo guru effect (it’s pretty much always men that do this), he may decide to go full bhagwan maharishi and start his own religion. For those who enjoy power and domination, having your own flock to do your bidding, give you money, and exercise your party bits, is the ultimate win. The shit you make up, which you call the truth, can be whatever you think your flock will swallow, the only requirement being that it’s not too easy to prove it’s bullshit. In the short term at least.

Whoever wrote the Bible didn’t go for the finding stuff out thing, they went for the making shit up option. It’s obvious they didn’t know anything about planets, stars, solar systems, the universe or anything like that, because back then, nobody did. Those who chose the scientific option were mostly preoccupied with swords and aqueducts and wine.

As all writers know, the moment you’ve written once upon a time, or, in the beginning, you have to write some more words. And if you don’t know what really happened in the beginning (still a mystery), you have to make something up. Usually a story.

Which is fine. We all like a good story. And if the story has a moral to it, one that helps us understand our place in the world and offers some guidance or reason for our existence, that’s even better. Stories that help us understand something about the human condition are always useful. But if a story’s made up, and then claimed to be true, with a large dollop of mystical woo-woo attached, that makes it dishonest and sinister.

Whoever wrote the book of Genesis was making shit up in order to fill a massive void in the “what the fuck’s going on” situation. It was a story to help people deal with the big questions, and to provide answers.

Which would have been fine had it been a book of the month, superseded by new books reflecting the ever-growing knowledge of mankind, but somehow it became a book of millennia, with huge dollops of “interpretation” becoming necessary to get past the problem that when read literally, it’s self-evident nonsense.

There are many different versions of the Bible, but in simple terms the book of Genesis starts like this –

Day 1 – In the beginning God created day and night.
Day 2 – God created the sky.
Day 3 – God created the land and the sea and the plants and the trees.
Day 4 – God created the sun, moon, and stars.

In other words, day and night, and plants and trees, pre-existed the sun.

Which is self-evident nonsense. Just plain wrong. Utterly impossible. Of course nobody back then knew about the solar system or how it works. If a creator of the solar system ever existed, they obviously had nothing to do with the writing of Genesis. Obviously, because it would have been so easy to at least get it chronologically correct whilst remaining ecclesiastically vague.

For example –

In the beginning, God created the universe, scattering stars and all manner of celestial objects far and wide.
Then, God created the earth and the oceans and the mountains and the lakes.
Then, God created all the plants and trees and creatures in the sea, and in the air, and on the land.
Then, God rested.

There, just like that. Easy. But it wasn’t written that way because they didn’t know what the fuck was going on. So they settled for making shit up. And claimed it was true. And then they hunted and killed and burnt people at the stake who dared to contradict them. For hundreds of years.

Which is why we need to start teaching kids to assume everything’s fiction unless decent evidence exists to the contrary. In fact we all need to develop skills to be less vulnerable to scamming charlatans of all types, whether religious, political, financial, emotional or magical.

And it’s also why watching someone doing card tricks or juggling or playing football or riding horses or listening to Penn’s Sunday School is a much better way to spend your Sundays than going to church.

God: I can hear you.

KM: Good.

God: Are you feeling somewhat unburdened?

KM: Night.

God: Night, Neel. Sleep well.

Not Very Intelligent Design at Amazon.com

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