The Caveman's Science

My wife threw a hairclip at me today. I skillfully almost avoided it. For the rest of this story, I am going to pretend that I was successful, because the fact that it hit me undoes my example, and other missiles she launched in the past did miss.

OK, just in time, I avoided the hair clip. 

It came toward me in an arch, which moved along a parabolic curve, upward and to the left. I moved to the right, and ducked slightly, skillfully avoiding the assault. I knew just what to do and I did it.

I did not use reason or science to avoid the hair clip. I did not compute the velocity of the missile, plot its trajectory, and calculate the number of inches to duck or the number of degrees to twist my upper body to evade it. There was no time for all that. I relied on lesser knowledge.

My brother, a natural artist among other things, was not present for the attack. However, that fact does not work for my story, so from this point on, I am going to pretend that he was there.

My brother, seeing the whole event, was entertained. He is as skilled as any cartoonist out there, though he is not well-compensated for his efforts. No one seems to pay attorneys what their cartoons are worth in this depressed economy. Anyway, amused, he drew a sketch of the event. He did not pull out a slide rule or crunch a number. He did not consult his brief engineering background to determine how not to damage the graphite as he applied the optimum pressure of pencil on paper. He just sketched it out, using knowledge that required no science and no articulated reason.

Not a single caveman saw my brother draw the picture. However, that does not work for my story, so I am going to pretend a 20,000 year old caveman witnessed the whole thing.

And there was a caveman watching my brother draw; and he carved out the same scene on a cave wall; not because he was there. He was not. He saw what my brother drew and mistook it for something real, poor benighted fellow. He had no science, and little reason. He was just good at carving things. His exploits rivaled that of an accomplished spider, who constructs webs of varying textures of silk. We think the spider’s mind must be devoid of reason and ignorant of science. We know this because we realize that all legitimate knowledge must be the product of science and reason, two things we say the caveman has in short supply, and the spider artisan, not at all.

The caveman had a daughter. She was not present for the carving event because she was nursing. She knew how to nurse, with no obvious science educating her. Amazingly, her infant also knew how to nurse. I guess he conducted his experiments and trials intrauterine, a feat only possible for those of us lucky enough to possess a human mind, which is to say an advanced mind that gains knowledge through science advanced with reason. I know she nursed because if she had not, then I would not exist now. I am her great, great, great, etc. grandson.

Unlike Great, Great, Great, etc. Grandma, I know many things. I study science and critical thinking; still I and my peers cannot agree on what the truth is. We argue over everything. They know many things based on a stew of scientific facts seasoned with reason; but their many facts contradict my many facts. There is one thing we all agree upon, though: we know our science and reason is the only valid source of knowledge.

The theist can yap about his daffy notions all day, but I am a scientist. He is completely confused because he knows none of my facts. Unlike me, when he sees a missile coming, poor ignorant bastard doesn’t even give a thought to computing its arch or clocking its velocity.

To be perfectly honest, my wife’s hair clip hit my hairy knuckle, and it hurt like hell. I threw it back at her, though far more gently than it came to me. I missed. My wife left the matter in the hands of animal intuition. Poor simpleton almost got hit with a hairclip.