The unknown poet, as was his wont, asked the Question in a roundabout way:
"How can one not be affected when learning how manifest universe unfolds from a singularity of cosmic gism? I make no plea for "creationism" or "intelligent design". What I say is, if we consider the manifest universe and the little we know about how it unfolded -- well, the only conclusion is that all the religions and their concepts of the "Great Potato" are, at best, poor approximations of the Reality of the Eternal."
The mystery of Innocence
is the way that truth unfolds with such consequence.
Somehow, the refined eloquence
of ages of sages mumbles to incompetence.
Before the sublime radiance
of reality, with apparent accidents
and interstellar incidents,
galaxies are strewn across the firmament...
Like grains of sand and other grit,
they simply sort of fall into their proper place...
And now, this hairless, apish itch
is wearing pants and flying into outer space...
"It's the silent hand of the Famous Ancient
Gambler, who's got it down to a science!"
"God don't gamble," grumbles Einstein.
Of course he does, but somehow he always make it "rhyne"...