A Superintellect Has Monkeyed With Physics.

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.

I Am Genuinely Sorry For Scientists Of The Younger Generation Who Never Knew Fisher Personally. So Long As You Avoided A Handful Of Subjects Like Inverse Probability That Would Turn Fisher In The Briefest Possible Moment From Extreme Urbanity Into A Boiling Cauldron Of Wrath, You Got By With Little Worse Than A Thick Head From The Port Which He, Like The Cambridge Mathematician J. E. Littlewood, Loved To Drink In The Evening. And On The Credit Side You Gained A Cherished Memory Of English Spoken In A Shakespearean Style And Delivered In The Manner Of A Spanish Grandee.

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.

Outstanding Examples Of Genius - A Mozart, A Shakespeare, Or A Carl Friedrich Gauss - Are Markers On The Path Along Which Our Species Appears Destined To Tread.

The Universe Is A Put-up Job.