He Who Lives Among Dogs

It Seems To Be A Characteristic Of All Great Work That It Creators Wear A Cloak Of Imprecision.

The Notion That Not Only The Biopolymer But The Operating Program Of A Living Cell Could Be Arrived At By Chance In A Primordial Organic Soup Here On The Earth Is Evidently Nonsense Of A High Order.

Here We Are In This Wholly Fantastic Universe With Scarcely A Clue As To Whether Our Existence Has Any Real Significance.

I Have Little Hesitation In Saying That As A Result A Sickly Pall Now Hangs Over The Big Bang Theory. As I Have Mentioned Earlier, When A Pattern Of Facts Becomes Set Against A Theory, Experience Shows That It Rarely Recovers.

Once We See, However, That The Probability Of Life Originating At Random Is So Utterly Minuscule As To Make It Absurd, It Becomes Sensible To Think That The Favorable Properties Of Physics, On Which Life Depends, Are In Every Respect Deliberate.... It Is, Therefore, Almost Inevitable That Our Own Measure Of Intelligence Must Reflect Higher Intelligence -even To The Limit Of God.