by Lloyd Pye
Evolution should have put creationism away ages ago—the very ages creationists mulishly, stupidly insist didn’t happen. By every outward sign the
ideological contest was shaping up as a slam-dunk shutout runaway rout. The evolution team went in at halftime, after the Scopes Trial in 1925, ahead
on all cards, three of seven, 50-zip. No bookies would take a bet at any odds against them. Yet now, closing out the first half-decade of the 21st century,
the evolutionists’ classic rope-a-dope tactic of letting their dogma-hobbled opponents futilely flail away has, in a stunning reversal, stopped working.
Fifteen years ago the depleted, rubber-limbed creationists somehow wised up enough to turn the battle into a tag-team match. They staggered to the
ropes to touch the hand of a fresh partner, intelligent design, and with sharp wits and shrewd tactics the intelligent designers have turned the tide.
Evolution’s knees are buckling and its hands have dropped, opening it up for the kind of haymaker that took out Clint’s Million Dollar Baby. Is it time to
crown a new champion? Yes, without a doubt—but not intelligent design.
Loosening up on a heavy bag just beyond ringside is a much older, vastly tougher contender in the long running, bitterly disputed battle over human
origins. This contender not only has “hands of stone,” it is made of stone…written, carved, or shaped into forms that can never be dismissed by
authority or circumvented by tautology. A grizzled, time-tested theory set in stone thousands of years ago, now primed for battle against three
thoroughly worn out, beaten-to-a-bloody-pulp opponents. When Vegas hears about the breadth and depth of supporting facts this contender brings into
the ring, not a penny will be wagered against it. If ever there was a “sure thing,” this is it.
Evolution, creation, intelligent design…meet intervention.
In 1915 a German meteorologist named Alfred Wegener wrote that the earth’s continents had at some point in the distant past been fused into one
gigantic continent. At the time this was a stunningly radical notion, yet he showed numerous examples of how mountain ranges on one continent had
perfect geological analogues on other continents. Similarly, numerous plants and animals living on continental coastlines had perfect analogues on the
coastlines of other continents. He didn’t merely suggest these analogues, he proved them, beyond any reasonable degree of scientific doubt. What he
couldn’t do, however, was establish a mechanism for how continents might move. He proved they did, proved it definitively, but he couldn’t show how.
Without a mechanism, Alfred Wegener was dismissed by the ruling elite of science in 1915. They were unmoved by the obvious validity of his
observations because nobody wanted to have to deal with what they meant. Generations had been needed to accommodate the idea that earth wasn’t
the center of the solar system. Then came the realization that centrifugal motion held planets in place as they whirled through the galaxy, which itself
was but a speck in a mind-bogglingly large universe. As earth shrunk in significance, Wegener came along to show it wasn’t even stable underfoot.
Enough was enough, and that was too much. Nobody was ready for an unstable earth.
Wegener’s brilliant insight required forty years and the deaths of all the leading earth scientists of his day to remove the dogmatists holding it down so
researchers in the mid-1950’s could be free to seek—and finally find—its unknown mechanism (tectonic plates floating at a glacial pace across the
magma of the mantle). A fellow German, physicist Max Planck, was moved to state it this way: “A new scientific truth does not triumph by convincing its
opponents and making them see the light, but rather because its opponents eventually die and a new generation grows up that is familiar with it.” That,
and the fact you can’t see what you refuse to acknowledge.
Wegener’s case relates to the debate about origins because it typifies how science reacts to new ideas that attempt to move the line of knowledge
farther than a few inches. Anything significant enough to alter an entrenched paradigm will be vigorously criticized and uniformly rejected unless—and
this is important to note—unless there is some overarching need for the new information. In those cases the breakthrough will be welcomed by scientists
with open arms, even if the discovery doesn’t come from one of their own, and even if they know it is wrong or is likely to be proved wrong. If it works to
their immediate advantage, they will trumpet it until the notes turn sour.
Like it or not, accept it or not, science is no different from politics. Truth is never the absolute expected by those outside their fraternity.
Unlike maligned Alfred Wegener, Charles Darwin produced a theory that was woefully short on actual confirmable facts to support it, but he had the one
thing Wegener lacked—a mechanism. Where Wegener could show numerous geological and biological links between continents, Darwin could not
produce a single example of the linchpin of his theory—an intermediate link between one species and another, which was required in the thousands, if
not millions, to validate his suggestion that all forms of life emerged from earlier, less sophisticated forms. Darwin understood the precariousness of his
position, admitting that if such intermediate links were not eventually confirmed (which he fully expected to occur once his scientific colleagues knew to
begin the search), his theory would have to be judged wrong.
Even in 1859, when On The Origin Of Species was published, the fossil record of the era was well known to present an erratic pattern of the history of
life on earth. Darwin and his colleagues knew full well that, as it was then understood, it did not support his theory; but they all expected that in the
fullness of time and further research, it would. Besides, the “natural” mechanism he had devised for the creation and subsequent proliferation of life had
a much more important purpose to scientists of all stripes, not just the biological fraternity. Darwin’s new mechanism gave scientists power.
In 1859 religion ruled the world, internally and externally, in every country. It dominated thinking on every front except scientific pursuits, but even there
religion’s tentacles reached deep into the heart of the process. In the 250 years since Galileo was obliterated in the first great battle between science
and religion, the status of scientists was only marginally improved. They still had to be careful to avoid censure—or worse—by the church for suggesting
that at any level of inquiry there might be a sounder means for explaining life’s deepest mysteries than an omnipotent, omnipresent God.
In an irony of stupendous magnitude, young Charles Darwin was a theology student who in later years came to reject religion as a final arbiter of
scientific inquiry. Like most of his colleagues, he accepted the pressing need to transform the religion-science dynamic so scientists could be free—
intellectually, emotionally, spiritually—to follow where their logic, intuition, experience, research, and testing might lead. But he also wanted, if possible,
to remain in good standing with his church, not to mention with his deeply devout wife. Walking that fine line, he overcame his moral ambiguities to
publish his “natural” origin of life and its subsequent propagation on earth.
Darwin was in the right place at the right time with the right idea. The facts behind his idea were dubious from the beginning and were recognized as
such by most scientists who could grasp what he was proposing. But they equally understood that by placing the mechanism for life’s processes in the
hands of nature, it could be removed from God and thereby lift the onerous foot of religion—which they viewed as separate from God—off their necks.
Darwin lifted that foot to allow science to breathe freely at last, and for the fifteen decades since, religion has been spitefully playing catch-up.
In 1873, only fourteen years after The Origin Of Species, geologist J.W. Dawson, chancellor of McGill University in Montreal, published The Story Of
The Earth And Man, as well written and carefully argued as Charles Darwin’s masterpiece. In it Dawson pointed out that Darwin and his cohorts were
promoting a theory based on three fallacious “gaps” in reasoning that could not be reconciled with the knowledge of their era. What is so telling about
Dawson’s three fallacies is that they remain unchanged to this day.
The first fallacy is that life can spontaneously animate from organic material. In 1873 Dawson complained that “the men who evolve all things from
physical forces do not yet know how these forces can produce the phenomenon of life even in its humblest forms.” He added that “in every case
heretofore, the effort (to create animate life) has proved vain.” After a century of heavily subsidized efforts to create even the most basic rudiments of
life in a laboratory, scientists are still batting zero. In any other endeavor reason would suggest it is time to call in the dogs and water down the fire. But
when it comes to Darwinian logic, as Dawson noted, “here also we are required to admit as a general principle what is contrary to experience.”
Dawson’s second fallacy was the gap that separates plant and animal life. “These are necessarily the converse of each other, the one deoxidizes and
accumulates, the other oxidizes and expends. Only in reproduction or decay does the plant simulate the action of the animal, and the animal never in its
simplest forms assumes the functions of the plant. This gap, I believe, can be filled up only by an appeal to our ignorance.” Thus it remains today. If life
evolved as Darwinists claim, it would have to bridge the gaping chasm between plant and animal life at least once, and more likely countless times.
Lacking one undeniable example of this bridging, science again bats zero.
The third gap in the knowledge of 1873 was “that between any species of animal or plant and any other species. It is this gap, and this only, which
Darwin undertook to fill up by his great work on the origin of species; but, notwithstanding the immense amount of material thus expended, it yawns as
wide as ever, since it must be admitted that no case has been ascertained in which individuals of one species have transgressed the limits between it
and other species.” Here, too, despite a ceaseless din of scientific protests to the contrary, there remains not a single unquestioned example of one
species evolving even partially into another distinct and separate species.
To be fair, some of today’s best-known geneticists and naturalists have broken ranks and acknowledged that what Dawson complained about in 1873
remains true today. Thomas H. Morgan, who won a Nobel Prize for work on heredity, wrote: “Within the period of human history, we do not know of a
single instance of the transformation of one species into another if we apply the most rigid and extreme tests used to distinguish wild species.” Colin
Patterson, director of the British Museum of Natural History, stated: “No one has ever produced a species by mechanisms of natural selection. No one
has gotten near it.” And these are by no means exceptional disclosures.
Scientists know these limitations of evolutionary theory are true and will be enduring, but shamefully few have the nerve to address them openly.
Luckily for the newly empowered Darwinists, the first creationists to enter the ring against them were the most fundamentally strict, dogma bound
scientists and apologists of their generation. By hewing so closely to a literal reading of Biblical scripture, they lost credibility with the public media, who
steadily relayed their disillusionment to the public itself. By the time of the do-or-die Scopes Trial in 1925, creationists had methodically positioned
themselves as irrelevant to the mood of the times. In the go-go Roaring 20’s, progress was the watchword on all fronts. Evolution had caught the
surging wave of modernism, leaving creation stranded on the beach of another era.
Evolutionists coasted along, secure in their dominant position, making the creationist mistake of allowing their theoretical framework to ossify into
dogma. As the 20th century neared its end, the theory proposed by Charles Darwin in 1859 had morphed into an intellectual straitjacket with all the
outward trappings of a religion. There were tenets of the faith, colleges for its perpetuation, and high priests and cardinals tasked with ensuring that all
contrary views were neutralized or, when necessary, eradicated. As with the creationists they overthrew, their feet grew to fill the shoes of oppression.
By 1990 a small group of capable scientists—mostly young Turks in their respective fields—had become disenchanted with Darwinian evolution as the
bottom line of existence. Chaos theory and microbiology and genetics were steadily underlining what J.W. Dawson expressed in 1873: the basic
structure of evolution by descent with modification (mutation) was clearly, indisputably wrong. Accepting that as an undeniable truth meant nature was
no longer the only player in the game. Something else seemed to be required to fill the gaping holes popping up everywhere they looked for certainty in
evolution. Instead of certainty they found what they came to call “irreducible complexity,” a degree of interrelatedness in biological parts so finely tuned
to each other that something incomprehensibly intelligent had to have been behind it all. They decided it required—no, demanded—a designer.
If nature is not now and never was the initiator or perpetuator of life on earth, then God must be granted the honor by default. However, because the
intelligent designers were intelligent, they knew the “G” word was not politically correct in a world where, above all else, individual rights must never be
abrogated. Rather than inflict their perception of a super rational entity on others, the omnipresent, omnipotent God of early creationists was replaced
by the amorphous, gender indistinct, small-letter “designer” that can be anything anyone wants it or him or her or whazzisname to be. But few doubt that
intelligent design’s checks are still signed by “G-o-d.”
In fifteen years one small group of disenchanted scientists has grown to be the first major intellectual movement of the 21st century. Victor Hugo said
that nothing is as powerful as an idea whose time has come, which has proved true time and again. However, intelligent design has not produced a new
idea whose time has come. They have refashioned the old idea that God trumps nature, using it to fill ever-widening cracks opened up in evolution’s
crumbling edifice of invincibility. Indeed, Darwin’s venerable theory is now slowly, methodically being exposed as the charade it was from its inception.
Enduring ideas replace; most temporarily hold a place.
I realize such extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence, which is readily available in a wide range of disciplines for anyone who cares to seek
them out. Unfortunately, in an essay like this, detailing every source would irreparably bog down the narrative, so I have to beg readers’ indulgence with
an assurance that no one has to look hard or far to find any number of books, documentaries, and internet websites focused on the idea that Darwin’s
gradual evolution was and is a myth that became a religion.
Any serious researcher will also find an intellectual subculture known in the U.S. as “alternative knowledge” and as “frontier science” in countries where
the word “frontier” does not conjure up images of Daniel Boone and Davy Crockett. This subculture is alive and well and in some ways thriving, though it
is hard to truly thrive without access to mainstream media outlets, the majority of which have been intimidated by overprotective scientists. A few
examples show how thoroughly this exclusion of ideas has taken root.
In 1981, Rupert Sheldrake published A New Science Of Life, which introduced the concept of “morphic fields,” an unrecognized form of energy
surrounding everything and acting as a guiding influence on the life of each living entity. That notion coupled with the discovery of human beings living
more or less normal lives with no brains in their skulls gave Sheldrake valid credibility. However, such a radical idea was unacceptable to the scientific
elite, prompting one of their chief spokesmen, John Maddox, the editor of Nature magazine, to run an editorial calling for the book to be burned.
In 1990, Thomas Gold substantiated his radical idea that petroleum might well be a result of geochemical processes in the planet’s core. If true, this
could have considerable impact on Big Oil and the price everyone pays for fuel, so geologists petitioned to have all mention of it removed from the
nation’s libraries (from a Washington Post interview with Gold in 1999).
In 1993, NBC aired Mystery of the Sphinx, a documentary that provided overwhelming evidence that the limestone of the Sphinx and its enclosure had
been deeply weathered by rain. Because Egypt’s Sahara has been desert for at least 8,000 years, that meant the Sphinx must have been carved well
prior to that, perhaps as long ago as 12,000 or 15,000 years ago. This was a flagrant challenge to mainstream Egyptology, whose defenders insisted
that all three Great Pyramids and the Sphinx complex were created together within a 100-year period only 5,500 years ago (3,500 B.C.)
Such a public repudiation of “expert” consensus could not be allowed to stand unchallenged. Outraged scientists bombarded NBC with calls and letters
of complaint, insisting they should have been “consulted” regarding the show so they could have explained how egregiously the facts had been
misrepresented. They also insisted that NBC drop plans to follow the initial airing of the show with a rerun later in the year. To its credit, NBC did not
succumb to the pressure and did air the rerun. Later that year Mystery of the Sphinx won an Emmy Award for outstanding documentary achievement,
and to this day not one word broadcast as fact has been successfully repudiated.
To follow the critical acclaim garnered by Mystery of the Sphinx, NBC decided to broadcast another controversial documentary in 1996. The Mysterious
Origins of Man was based largely on Forbidden Archeology, a mammoth tome by Michael Cremo and Richard L. Thompson. Narrated by actor Charlton
Heston, the show revealed numerous examples of real, true, bona fide artifacts studiously ignored by mainstream science because they didn’t fit with the
accepted chronology for mankind’s tenure on earth. This array of evidence was even more damaging to the mainstream position than the Sphinx show,
and the reaction of scientists was entirely commensurate.
Having learned from their previous experience that NBC would not budge from the pressures they could apply by en masse protests, they took their
case directly to the Federal Communication Commission, requesting that it forbid NBC from airing the show as a rerun. One letter to the FCC was written
by Dr. Allison Palmer, President of the Institute for Cambrian Studies, and said in part: “At the very least NBC should be required to make substantial
prime-time apologies to their viewing audience for a sufficient period of time so the audience clearly gets the message they were duped.” Once again
NBC refused to buckle to the pressure, and once again not a word in the show stated as a fact has ever been successfully repudiated.
Despite NBC’s initial courage, threats by scientists to boycott the products of their sponsors eventually had the desired effect. No original documentaries
of such potential impact have been broadcast by a major network or cable channel since The Mysterious Origins of Man in 1996.
Courage, and the lack thereof, relates to the competing theories of origins because no mainstream media are anxious to pour gasoline on the fire now
making mainstream evolutionists sweat. Every time a major media outlet makes room on its pages or provides time on its airwaves for theories or ideas
critical of the currently favored paradigms, they know they will be bombarded by ever-watchful, ever-paranoid scientists. Those scientists are especially
touchy about the rise of intelligent design as an idea that, unlike its creationism parent, can’t be dismissed or ridiculed into irrelevancy.
The Negro League’s pitching great Satchel Paige used to say, “Don’t look back, something might be gaining on you.” Intelligent design is clearly,
indisputably gaining on evolution for the very good reason that each of its fundamental tenets is being proved—or has already been proved—wrong.
Standing that deeply against the ropes, being pounded day after day by their clever, media-savvy opponent, the last thing they—or their opponent for
that matter—want to confront is another theory (intervention) joining the battle. All that keeps the newcomer outside the ring of public awareness is its
lack of media exposure. Fortunately, that situation shows signs of improving.
This essay is an opening wedge.
Intervention theory began in 1968 with the publication of Erich Von Daniken’s Chariots of the Gods. Von Daniken focused on the wide array of
megalithic structures around the world that so obviously are beyond modern capacities to match. Surely, he argued, only intervention by non-human, off-
world entities could explain how such immense structures could be built to tolerances that today’s engineers can only marvel at. One favorite quote is
that the Pyramids are “Rolex watches built on a scale of small mountains,” as are Baalbek in Lebanon, Tiahuanaco in Bolivia, and Sachsahuaman and
Ollantaytambo in Peru, among dozens less cyclopean in size but no more likely to have been created by the minds and muscles of ordinary humans.
Like Alfred Wegener in 1915, Erich Von Daniken was undoubtedly correct when asserting that no Stone Age culture could possibly have created such
immense, intricate edifices. But also like Wegener, he couldn’t provide a mechanism whereby off-planet visitors could make a journey to our planet in a
reasonable time span. Our sun’s closest neighbor is Proxima Centauri at 4.2 light years away. Assuming the speed of light is as constant as Einstein
claimed (this is now challenged by considerable frontier science research), intergalactic travel at earthly speeds on earthly timescales seems
improbable. However, these factors are limiting or absolute only because scientific hubris makes them so. In reality they might not exist at all.
Unfortunately for Von Daniken, in 1968 he had no way to counter scientific ridicule of his ideas.
As a result, he was effectively laughed out of the ring.
In 1976 a new champion of intervention appeared. Zecharia Sitchin published The Twelfth Planet, which supplied a different array of evidence to
support Von Daniken’s assertion that earth bristled with the remains of non-human activity in a not-too-distant past. Sitchin based his conclusions on the
voluminous written records of Sumer, the “sudden civilization” that sprang up virtually overnight in the Tigris-Euphrates Valley of modern Iraq. Historians
can’t begin to plausibly explain how Sumerians were transformed from Stone Age farmers to extremely sophisticated city dwellers in a matter of only a
few hundred years around 5,000 years ago. The mystery is so deep and so profound, few historians dare attempt to deal with it, mostly leaving only one
thing about Sumer openly discussed in history classes—writing.
Sumerians combined myriad orientations of a single wedge-shaped image to create a complex, convoluted, cleverly subtle graphic technique known as
cuneiform, which is readily acknowledged as the first form of writing. The wedges were pressed into clay tablets that were then put into the first kilns
(one of dozens of sophisticated technologies introduced by this supposedly “primitive” society) and fired into stone to provide what became the gold
standard of knowledge in all subsequent cultures: written in stone.
Historians are so baffled by the things Sumerians wrote, they classify nearly all of it as “myth,” nothing more than flights of fancy by surprisingly creative
“primitives.” When Albert Einstein was asked how he came to see the basics of his great theories, he replied, “I ignored an axiom.” Fortunately for those
in the intervention movement, Zecharia Sitchin did the same thing.
Sitchin rejected the “myth” appellation officially applied to Sumerian writings, treating them as the true history Sumerians said they were. Looking
beyond the flourishes of the language, its subtleties and allegories, he found an astonishing array of facts that could be corroborated by modern
research. What he found was literally mind-boggling in 1976, and it remains so today.
Sumerians wrote in stone 4,000 years ago that superior beings from beyond earth lived among them as their lords and masters, and in far earlier times
actually created humans “in their own image, after their own likeness” (words exactly copied 2,000 years later to be incorporated into Genesis) in a
“house of fashioning” (a genetic laboratory?) where also were created all of the known domesticated plants and animals “to give the gods their ease.”
The Sumerians always referred to their gods in a multiple sense and never with upper case emphasis. They wrote about those gods in matter-of-fact
terms, describing them as flesh-and-blood beings with whom they could have sex, produce hybrid offspring, even occasionally marry. And Sumerian
knowledge went much deeper. They had a plausible explanation for how our solar system came to have its unusual lineup of planets and moons. Earth’s
missing crust and Wegener’s tectonic plates are impossible in an astral body forming normally in the vacuum of space, yet the Sumerians accounted for
both. It is equally impossible for earth’s oceans of water to form as close to the sun as the planet now orbits, yet there it is. The Sumerians gave a
reason that makes sense. Earth’s overly large, precisely aligned moon is also dealt with, as is the asteroid belt, another conundrum they neatly
Then comes the cruncher, a swing-from-the-heels knockout punch.
The Sumerians wrote that our immediate solar system contained nine planets plus one other, a tenth, traveling in a 3600-year elliptical (rather than the
usual circular) orbit around the sun. That planet they called Nibiru, the home of their gods, whom they called the Anunnaki. At a stroke this negated the
objection that off-world beings couldn’t make a journey to earth from the closest star systems in anything approaching a reasonable timeframe. These
gods came from the neighborhood, so to speak, from just around the corner.
The Sumerians also counted planets from the perspective of the space-faring gods on Nibiru, from the outside in, calling earth the seventh, rather than
the third rock from the sun. And, with a stunning flash of insight, they wrote that when viewed from “on high” in the heavens, Uranus and Neptune looked
like “blue-green watery twins.” Most astronomers assumed anything past Saturn was likely to be a cold dead rock, so it came as quite a surprise to see
photographs from Voyager 2 in 1986, and again in 1989, proving the Sumerians were right. Uranus and Neptune were made of blue-green slush.
How could the Sumerians know such things? How could they know Uranus, Neptune, and Pluto were even there, much less how they looked if viewed up
close in space? We didn’t learn about the existence of those three planets until 1781, 1846, and 1930, respectively. How could the Sumerians know
about any of it, much less all of it? Simple…their gods told them.
They were refreshingly candid about it. All they knew, all they were, their very existence was owed to the beneficence of the Anunnaki gods who created
them, created their “sudden” culture and civilization, and who often erratically ruled their lives as the fortunes of one principal god waxed and another’s
waned. They wrote of an astonishingly active history thrust upon them by living on earth at that unique time, in that unique place. Yet the vast majority of
people in the world today have no idea any of this ever existed.
As Sitchin points out in the title of his book, Sumerians also included the moon and the sun to make twelve major members of this solar system—a
number that crops up in Sumerian writings more than once. They introduced the world to twelve signs of the zodiac, the same ones that have, by
nothing short of a miracle, come down to us today intact, the same twelve that have passed through the Egyptians, Greeks, Romans, and all cultures in
between. The Sumerians also had twelve major Anunnaki gods (the same twelve of Egyptians, Greeks, Romans, and others) ruling in Sumer over a
plethora of lesser gods and their adamu (which came to Genesis as “Adam”), the human slaves and servants they engineered to make their lives easier
on what had to be a hardship outpost on a planet far distant and different from their own.
In doing that engineering, they gave the intervention theory a fresh new foothold in the origins debate, and this one is finally gaining traction.
In 1998, intervention theory was taken to the next level by Lloyd Pye (yes, that’s me) in the book Everything You Know Is Wrong. Despite that facetious
title, the book revealed a mechanism that Erich Von Daniken and Zecharia Sitchin had lacked, a mechanism that could unmistakably establish proof of
outside intervention on earth—genetics. Sitchin made clear that the Anunnaki claimed to create humans as well as all the known domesticated plants
and animals in a “house of fashioning,” which he logically assumed must be their name for a genetics lab. But in 1976 not enough was known about
human DNA to look for, much less establish, proof of such a claim.
By 1998 enough was known, and Pye revealed it. In 1996, only two years earlier, geneticists announced the results of their years-long efforts to
establish when humans split off from the “common ancestor” they shared at some point with chimpanzees, our closest genetic relatives. The uniformly
accepted timeframe of archeologists and anthropologists was between 5.0 million to 8.0 million years ago, so geneticists felt they could put a bracket
inside that wide range by analyzing the mitochondrial DNA (mtDNA) of a statistically meaningful array of modern humans to determine which groups
were the oldest, and then date those by counting mutations to their mtDNA.
When the answer came in, everyone was flabbergasted. Human DNA history didn’t go back to 8.0 million years ago, or to 5.0 million years ago. It went
back only a relative eye blink—to just 200,000 years! Something had to be wrong, hugely wrong, with such a recent date. If humans were no older than
200,000 years…. That possibility sent shudders through every scientist forced to seriously consider it. It just had to be wrong. However, subsequent
testing of the male Y chromosome showed it was unquestionably true.
Because there was no way to rationally or logically explain such a glaring discrepancy in the evolutionist story of human origins, the new date had to be
explained away. This was done by creating the phantasmagorical device of a “genetic bottleneck” through which humanity could be squeezed. For as
absurd as that sounds (and is), here is how the scenario played out:
“First, nobody get excited. Okay? Everything’s gonna stay the same. Humans did, in fact, evolve from an ancient common ancestor with chimps. Yes,
this mitochondrial mess was a close call, but now Jake’s come up with a loophole, so we can go back to normal and move ahead like nothing ever
happened. Everybody got that? Good. Now, here’s what we have to say….”
By some unknown but deadly means, virtually every human ancestor alive at 200,000 years ago was wiped out. Only a literal handful in southern Africa
(where the geneticists proved the earliest humans appeared) managed to avoid the plague that felled everyone else. That literal handful, no more than
a few dozen at most, became the breeding stock for every member of every race on the planet today—all six billion of us. Only by imagining such an
improbable worldwide catastrophe can Darwinian evolution be distorted enough to jibe with the impossible-to-distort mitochondrial DNA results.
Suddenly, our creation at the hands of the Anunnaki from Nibiru, the tenth planet in our solar system, doesn’t seem quite so farfetched. Now add this
kicker: the Sumerians wrote that the Anunnaki claimed to have created humans in “the house of fashioning” in southern Africa 200,000 years ago!
I’m well aware of how this sounds, but it is true and defendable.
Even more compelling and defendable are the immense physical gaps between humans and every other “higher” primate, not just chimpanzees. In
1911, then-famous British anthropologist, Sir Arthur Keith, quantized all of the anatomical characteristics that set a species of ape apart from the others.
He found that gorillas had 75 unique physiological attributes; chimpanzees, 109; orangutans, 113; gibbons, 116; and humans, 312. Thus, humans have
an array of traits that are three times more distinctive than higher primates.
This is surprising because evolutionists so loudly trumpet that humans and chimps share 98% the same DNA. This is, it should come as no surprise,
powerfully dependent on who does the counting and how it is done; but the bottom line is that its trumpeting is a subterfuge to hide from view several
embarrassing facts known about the inner structure of the human genome.
First up: the chromosome count. All higher primates have 48 but humans have “only” 46. How could that happen? How could two entire chromosomes—
a significant chunk of the 20,000 or so genes humans are now known to possess—be lost, yet somehow we end up three times as different
physiologically as our ape relatives and a light year different in intellectual capacity? Better yet, how were they lost? Where did they go?
Well, guess what? Here’s a great secret… shhhhh! …a great secret evolutionary biologists and geneticists would hate to see turned into public
discourse, especially within hearing range of their opponents in the battle over human origins. Those two “missing” chromosomes are not missing!
It turns out the 2nd and 3rd chromosomes in all higher primates have miraculously been fused together in humans to make one long chromosome that
still contains all of the higher primate’s DNA. That fact is remarkable enough. However, it borders on miraculous when we discover that by more sleight-
of-hand by nature, certain areas on key human chromosomes have been flipped—literally cut loose in certain places, turned on end, and then
reinserted and re-fused into the chromosomes to make them whole again.
Talk to any geneticist or read any genetics text and these miracles of nature will be explained in blandly prosaic terms. These things are not new, not
original, not rare, and are certainly nothing to get excited about. This is political spinning at its most glaring. They know the truth, in the same way
scientists in 1915 knew the truth about Alfred Wegener’s discovery. But just as earlier scientists were not ready or willing to accept that the earth could
be unstable beneath their feet, modern scientists are equally unwilling and unprepared to confront the alarming bottom line of intervention theory.
We humans are not now, and never have been, alone. Period.
I began this essay by saying that as intervention theory enters the origins debate against its vastly better known opponents, it brings Roberto Duran’s
famous “hands of stone,” which in our case is comprised of literal stone—hundreds of megalithic structures around the world, and extensive writings of
the ancient Sumerians. Then I moved to genetics, which at first glance is not in any way related to stone; but it actually is in this context:
Intervention says that human beings and all domesticated plants and animals are the result of genetic engineering by off-world beings of some kind,
whether they prove to be the Anunnaki or not. As with the megalithic stones, our DNA clearly reveals evidence of their handiwork while here. But
another array of stones makes it equally clear that humans did not evolve on earth in the way every evolutionist insists had to occur. Those stones are
the fossils of the so-called “prehumans” of the past five or six million years.
We’ve all seen their mug shots, so I’m not asserting anything that can be construed as distortion. From the early Australopithecines (Lucy and her type),
through all of the Homos (Habilis, Erectus, Neandertal), every single “prehuman” fossil (which, please recall, is bone turned into stone) presents an
array of physical features diametrically opposed to modern humans.
They all have thick heavy brow ridges above large round night-vision eyes. They have no forehead, wide nasal passages, no chins, and mouths that
project from their faces in the prognathous fashion. From Australopithecines to Neanderthals this is their uniform pattern, then at “only” 120,000 years
ago (so far) the first true human, Cro-Magnon, appears in the fossil record. This timeframe is a comfortable chronological fit within the 200,000 years
since the creation of humans established by the Sumerians 4,000 years ago.
Like it or not, agree with it or not, stone is what it is and says what it says, with no chance ever to change it, revise it, alter it, or shred it.
I assume this essay will be upsetting, if not infuriating, to many of those who read it. On the other hand, equal numbers—if not a substantial majority—
will hear echoes of doubts they might have registered along the course of their lives when struck by some simplicity or absurdity passed off as “truth” by
mainstream scientists desperately clinging to old convictions.
It was the same in 1915 and will remain the same far into the future, unless and until ordinary people open their minds enough to fairly evaluate all
opposing viewpoints; and if circumstances dictate a change in direction, they will have to rise up and literally cram unwanted facts down the throats of a
scientific community more worried about social status, job tenure, and running afoul of peer reviews for grants than honestly searching for truth.
Let me close by repeating the quote from Max Planck:
“A new scientific truth does not triumph by convincing its opponents and making them see the light, but rather because its opponents eventually die and
a new generation grows up that is familiar with it.”
This essay was written to familiarize a new generation—as well as open-minded individuals in the entrenched one—with the fundamentals of intervention
theory. When enough doubters lift the prejudicial ropes keeping it out of their mental rings, a very different fight over origins will begin.
All Original Material Copyright 2007
© Lloyd Pye