How does the flood theory cope with the same animal fossils generally turning up in the same geological layers?
I already addressed this with him. His only response that I saw was...
- and - so I gather that he thinks that any order found in the strata is either lies from scientists or...well, I can't see how else it would happen. Unless God made it that way later to fool the non-believers. But that's another road, and I'm assuming that most believers don't want a god who would deceive them and cover up evidence of his lesson to the wicked.
By magically charging a magically sequestered underground ocean with a magically cosmic quantity of kinetic energy, God is able to magically carve mountains (some pretty nice sculpting at that), the Tibetan plateau, and of course the enigmatic sculptures of Everest, McKinley, etc, which would entail the piling up of miles of rock and then slicing and carving them in his magical cosmic terra~sculpting rubber bottomed washing machine~thingy. Besides, if God were to simply utter "Sasquatch" or "Shazizzle" or really just anything that pleased him -- maybe it's "red rubber baby buggy bumpers" -- I mean who are we to judge?--- then all of that sonic utterance, I mean just the overtones, since Charleton Heston already proved God has a rich manly baritone register -- the overtones at one gazillion Pascals would act like a cosmic ultrasonic cleaner, resonating the rocks with extra cleaning power of magically turbinated water wave action. At the proper frequency the face of a cliff could be reduced to sand and gravel, then lifted a few miles and dropped down on top of Kilamanjaro or the Andes. Yay, brethren, all known sites of licentiousness like that.
With all that effluence stirred up, all the dead stuff was agitated by this magical energy, which at times sorted the plant and animal remains from A-Z, and in other layers from Z-A, and in other layers it went crazy and did random sorting and/or mixing according to whether God was uttering "Sha-" or "-zizzle". Y'all go ahead and do a frequency analysis on that and tell me that's not a scientific fact. Magical sky high water wave turbulence works wonders here on the just-for-the-hell-of-it fossil layering puzzle, you just have to have the deluxe model, which comes with the magical dial labeled "pre-sort and filter". And you already know God is a prankster, just look at the babies with spina bifida and cleft palette. It's part of being God, a branding strategy, creating the mystery, that sort of thing.
After all, what would you do in your spare time after creating the biggest bang in your whole existence, especially after all that tedium managing a trillion trillion black holes, and, as priorities do change, turning to the egregious issue of enforcing tougher laws on circumcision and the consumption of yeast among this small tribe of illiterate goatherds out in a desolate region of this speck upon a speck upon a speck on the long arm of a speck of speck of a ... well, whatever...here. Just how would you spend your time off? Even God needs a hobby. But what, you ask?
Cosmic washing machine design, obviously. That'll teach'em to grow foreskins and eat yeast.
The Bible says that when it was over, Noah got drunk and passed out. This was understandable, after all his hard work: construction of his full scale prophetic rendition of the Titanic, all in wormwood and tree sap, the global species roundup (except the ones he omitted, like T. Rex, and his low brow neighbor, Homo Erectus, who borrowed and never returned the stone axe Noah needed to cut the mizzen~capstan~thingy, etc. etc.
may he rot in hell) and of course riding it out with all those smells and noises, poop-scooping the stalls, and feeding the little beasties manna day and night, that will make a guy crave a little walk on the wild side.
Of all the questions I have for Noah: Why did you save the roaches and the ants? ...Wasps? Scorpions? The Black Mamba? In my Sunday School coloring book, I just X-ed him out, usually with a curly black mustache and a few scars with stitches running across them, or an occasional swastika. Could be why I was always in time out conspiring to grow up and do radiometric dating for a living.
Anyway, after all his hard days' night Noah just wanted to hit the sauce and put his feet up. But when asked, I think Noah told God his reason for drinking so much wine was that he was thirsty but there was simply not a fresh drop of water to be found, having been contaminated by the ocean water and all that debris, no to mention about a million skunks. Drinking that swill would be way nastier than gnawing on a crust of leavened bread--so God, who can sometimes be a clean freak with a food aversion, said: "Let there not be salt on the waters that sit upon the face of the land" (Catholic version, holed up in a Vatican vault) and Ouila! Presto-chango, all the lakes and streams just magically transmuted into something else, which was neither pure water or not, and which includes the countless mud puddles, stagnant ponds, lagoons, swamps, slime heaps and peat bogs which proves once again God is more artist than scientist.
What the scientific skeptics and atheists don't quite realize is that doing all of this remodeling and cleaning up afterwards is really just about on par with managing a trillion trillion singularities. And proof of the worth of this effort is the dearth of foreskins and yeasty breads prevailing worldwide. Must be something to this, huh?
What is wrong with you science nuts? Have you no faith? Just wait, you're gonna pay. After your dead,though. That's so you can have plenty of opportunity to get into a ton of trouble during your full life. That way, there's plenty of torture for God to inflict on you downstream, since managing the universe can be ... well ... I think it is written in the Apocrypha that all work and no play makes God pretty damn mad.
Now if you people in front will please step away from the communion rail so the ushers can get through. Y'all can drop all those bills you're waving at me in the collection baskets, currently on their way up from the back rows. Amen, y'all. Remember to be good out there. God love ya.