In The Window Of The Soul, Something Burrows...

Cross posted @ God Is For Suckers!

Out- out are the lights- out all!
And, over each quivering form,
The curtain, a funeral pall,
Comes down with the rush of a storm,
While the angels, all pallid and wan,
Uprising, unveiling, affirm
That the play is the tragedy, "Man,"
And its hero the Conqueror Worm. - Edgar Allan Poe, 'The Conqueror Worm'

In Africa, there is a child. In the eye of the child, a worm burrows.

The worm is called the Loa loa filariasis, AKA the African eye worm.

Read of it and shudder. It's horrifying, to think that such a creature can infest our bodies, and cause such horrors.

I have spoken of such before. But the world abounds with these creatures; so much so, that it beggars the imagination that anyone would proclaim the planet earth as having been designed for us, when it is so clearly inimical to our presence.

This is why an honest, critical eye (no entendre intended) to the alleged 'design' of the world punctures the balloon of ID, reduces the religious swoon to simple melodramatic fainting, and demolishes this notion of an 'all-loving' gwad into dust.

It is not enough that we are wormfood after we die, but that we are wormfood while we are alive as well.

And, as we are coming close to Darwin's birthday, I will close this post with his words:

"I cannot persuade myself that a beneficent and omnipotent God would have designedly created parasitic wasps with the express intention of their feeding within the living bodies of Caterpillars"

Till the next post, then.