Well, actually, it's not the idea itself as it doesn't take an awful lot of intuition to be able to guess that this pitiful example of what is supposed to be an intelligent species, the Crown of Creation, the creature created in the image of the Almighty -- what gets to me is the idea of actively wanting to speed up the day when the sun turns black and the Holy Idaho comes to take us to that Great Colander in the sky.
If we cannot find meaning in this life on its own merits, then any purported salvation will be lost on us because we define the Great Potato in our daily lives, in our interactions with our Blue Mother and our fellow human beings.
Anyway, that is something of the feelings which provoked me to compose this piece which, by the way, promotes the one really good example of Intelligent Design -- the fact that the stars are so far apart...
Standing on the edge, with the abyss darkly yawning far below,
what we all fear is coming near -- the end of all designs
in whirlwinds which teach what no one yearns to learn to know:
That the Night is a long, dark river which sings the end of time!
And all those shining moments which we treasured most of all,
such as morning frosts subliming in the rays of the rising sun,
will we ever come to know them again? If so, where -- and how?
The ancient intuition is that, when the course of life has run,
there is a reckoning of all things, of all by all.
That is by all that is, that was, that ever will or could be.
Just as galaxies of stars are implied in the fall
of that heavy thought into space, so it is, you see,
that life must form from primal slime and sentience appear.
Unfortunately, that doesn't make a really good case
for "Intelligent Design", because it seems rather clear
societies of apes, like this silly human race,
destroy themselves in hells of their very own design!
It would seem the "Designer" doesn't have much more sense
than the apes It designed or that It is really all that benign
as some would claim -- the only sign of intelligence
is that the stars are so very, very far apart.
when we go to glory in our polluted, radioactive hell,
we'll only take ourselves and our Blue Mother with us
in a tiny cosmic fart and that's kind of sort of smart!