Every bit of info I learn about the cosmos, the planet, etc. makes me wonder. And it would be a mistake to underestimate the role that computer graphics play in all this, to say nothing of photographic technology. These modalities make arcane bits of scientific inquire into almost revelatory images.
Although I am not a Young Earther or anything of the kind --even St Augustine in the 5th century thought the Genesis days were metaphors-- I find Darwin critics interesting, partly because I resent the arrogance of their orthodoxy. I am a creationist only in the sense that I am a theist, but not on scientific grounds, where my expertise is nil. Yet the Cambrian explosion and the required pre-existence of fantastically complex DNA for the emergence of the "simplest" living cell...I don't think that men of science have any idea of how to explain those things yet. Much less why the Big Bang banged or what was "before" it. Reality always outstrips any theory about it.
On the mundane and very post-lapsarian plane, I briefly looked at a UK spinoff of Jersey Shore, called Geordie Shore, about similarly simian young Brits in Newcastle. My God, I could only take about 30 seconds. What vile and subhuman behavior. As I have mentioned elsewhere, for a culture that foregrounds "human dignity" as one of its great virtues, our entertainment overflows with images of humans at our most pathetically contemptible, where dignity is farthest thing imaginable. Made me think that for people like that, Islam might be preferable.
Switching gears yet again...
My admittedly sentimental wallpaper for Christmas, above, echoes my admittedly sentimental attitude about Christmas. The painting evokes evening on a cold quiet New England hillside: the sea of stars in the black sky, the crunch of snow under your feet, the light and implied warmth glowing from the simple houses..this was how Christmas felt to me as a child...and well after that. Whenever I see the image I imagine myself coming home from school late, or heading back to the house after walking the dog. My siblings are playing in the living room, my Dad is reading the paper and my Mom is cooking dinner. It is clearly the fantasy of an introvert who is stimulated by contrasts: dark/light, warmth/cold, silence/sound, distance/intimacy, presence/absence. If you could do the Twilight Zone thing and imagine yourself into a picture, this would be one I'd want to visit.
Mr B and I both grew up in stable and sane families. Whatever our ups and downs, home was always a safe place. It never occurred to me until I got to know the wider world and especially the years I worked with Black and Latino middle-schoolers that home could actually be the last place you'd want to go to feel safe.
Reminds me of one of the miscreants sent to me for counseling. He was Yemeni and Muslim, coming here with his widower Dad and sister to join a network of relatives, one of whom owned a store where he worked on weekends, underage. His 16-year-old sister did not go to school but stayed in the home. After yet another event in class where he was sent to me for misbehavior, he announced that the family was returning to Yemen because --and I am sure he was quoting his father -- "people here have too much freedom."
I wish all the Muslims felt that way.