Part I -> http://www.skeptiko-forum.com/threads/the-evolution-of-plants-part-i.1351/
Of course, “miracle” implies there was actually a chance that such complex manipulations of nature could be carried out by primitive yeomen in eight geographical areas over 5,000 years. This strains credulity because in each case in each area someone had to actually look at a wild progenitor and imagine what it could become, or should become, or would become. Then they had to somehow insure that their vision would be carried forward through countless generations that had to remain committed to planting, harvesting, culling, and crossbreeding wild plants that put no food on their tables during their lifetimes, but which might feed their descendants in some remotely distant future.
It is difficult to try to concoct a more unlikely—even absurd—scenario, yet to modern-day botanists it is a gospel they believe with a fervor that puts many “six day” Creationists to shame. Why? Because to confront its towering absurdity would force them to turn to You-Know-What for a more logical and plausible explanation.
To domesticate a wild plant without using artificial (i.e. genetic) manipulation, it must be modified by directed crossbreeding, which is only possible through the efforts of humans. So the equation is simple. First, wild ancestors for many (but not all) domestic plants do seem apparent. Second, most domesticated versions did appear from 10,000 to 5,000 years ago. Third, the humans alive at that time were primitive barbarians. Fourth, in the past 5,000 years no plants have been domesticated that are nearly as valuable as the dozens that were “created” by the earliest farmers all around the world. Put an equal sign after those four factors and it definitely does not add up to any kind of Darwinian model.
Botanists know they have a serious problem here, but all they can suggest is that it simply had to have occurred by natural means because no other intervention—by God or You-Know-What—can be considered under any circumstances. That unwavering stance is maintained by all scientists, not just botanists, to exclude overwhelming evidence such as the fact that in 1837 the Botanical Garden BIN RAS in St. Petersburg, Russia, began concerted attempts to cultivate wild rye into a new form of domestication. They are still trying because their rye has lost none of its wild traits, especially the fragility of its stalk and its small grain. Therein lies the most embarrassing conundrum botanists face.
To domesticate a wild grass like rye, or any wild grain or cereal (which was done time and again by our Neolithic forebears), two imposing hurdles must be cleared. These are the problems of rachises and glumes, which I discuss in my book, “Everything You Know Is Wrong—Book One: Human Origins” (pgs. 283-285). Glumes are botany’s name for husks, the thin covers of seeds and grains that must be removed before humans can digest them. Rachises are the tiny stems that attach seeds and grains to their stalks.
While growing, glumes and rachises are strong and durable so rain won’t knock the seeds and grains off their stalks. At maturity they become so brittle that a breeze will shatter them and release their cargo to propagate. Such a high degree of brittleness makes it impossible to harvest wild plants because every grain or seed would be knocked loose during the harvesting process. So in addition to enlarging and softening and nutritionally altering the seeds and grains of dozens of wild plants, the earliest farmers had to also figure out how to finely adjust the brittleness of every plant’s glumes and rachises.
That adjustment was of extremely daunting complexity, perhaps more complex than the transformational process itself. The rachises had to be toughened enough to hold seeds and grains to their stalks during harvesting, yet remain brittle enough to be easily collected by human effort during what has come to be known as “threshing.” Likewise, the glumes had to be made tough enough to withstand harvesting after full ripeness was achieved, yet still be brittle enough to shatter during the threshing process. And—here’s the kicker—each wild plant’s glumes and rachises required completely different degrees of adjustment, and the final amount of each adjustment had to be perfectly precise!
In short, there is not a snowball’s chance this happened as botanists claim it did.
Of course, “miracle” implies there was actually a chance that such complex manipulations of nature could be carried out by primitive yeomen in eight geographical areas over 5,000 years. This strains credulity because in each case in each area someone had to actually look at a wild progenitor and imagine what it could become, or should become, or would become. Then they had to somehow insure that their vision would be carried forward through countless generations that had to remain committed to planting, harvesting, culling, and crossbreeding wild plants that put no food on their tables during their lifetimes, but which might feed their descendants in some remotely distant future.
It is difficult to try to concoct a more unlikely—even absurd—scenario, yet to modern-day botanists it is a gospel they believe with a fervor that puts many “six day” Creationists to shame. Why? Because to confront its towering absurdity would force them to turn to You-Know-What for a more logical and plausible explanation.
To domesticate a wild plant without using artificial (i.e. genetic) manipulation, it must be modified by directed crossbreeding, which is only possible through the efforts of humans. So the equation is simple. First, wild ancestors for many (but not all) domestic plants do seem apparent. Second, most domesticated versions did appear from 10,000 to 5,000 years ago. Third, the humans alive at that time were primitive barbarians. Fourth, in the past 5,000 years no plants have been domesticated that are nearly as valuable as the dozens that were “created” by the earliest farmers all around the world. Put an equal sign after those four factors and it definitely does not add up to any kind of Darwinian model.
Botanists know they have a serious problem here, but all they can suggest is that it simply had to have occurred by natural means because no other intervention—by God or You-Know-What—can be considered under any circumstances. That unwavering stance is maintained by all scientists, not just botanists, to exclude overwhelming evidence such as the fact that in 1837 the Botanical Garden BIN RAS in St. Petersburg, Russia, began concerted attempts to cultivate wild rye into a new form of domestication. They are still trying because their rye has lost none of its wild traits, especially the fragility of its stalk and its small grain. Therein lies the most embarrassing conundrum botanists face.
To domesticate a wild grass like rye, or any wild grain or cereal (which was done time and again by our Neolithic forebears), two imposing hurdles must be cleared. These are the problems of rachises and glumes, which I discuss in my book, “Everything You Know Is Wrong—Book One: Human Origins” (pgs. 283-285). Glumes are botany’s name for husks, the thin covers of seeds and grains that must be removed before humans can digest them. Rachises are the tiny stems that attach seeds and grains to their stalks.
While growing, glumes and rachises are strong and durable so rain won’t knock the seeds and grains off their stalks. At maturity they become so brittle that a breeze will shatter them and release their cargo to propagate. Such a high degree of brittleness makes it impossible to harvest wild plants because every grain or seed would be knocked loose during the harvesting process. So in addition to enlarging and softening and nutritionally altering the seeds and grains of dozens of wild plants, the earliest farmers had to also figure out how to finely adjust the brittleness of every plant’s glumes and rachises.
That adjustment was of extremely daunting complexity, perhaps more complex than the transformational process itself. The rachises had to be toughened enough to hold seeds and grains to their stalks during harvesting, yet remain brittle enough to be easily collected by human effort during what has come to be known as “threshing.” Likewise, the glumes had to be made tough enough to withstand harvesting after full ripeness was achieved, yet still be brittle enough to shatter during the threshing process. And—here’s the kicker—each wild plant’s glumes and rachises required completely different degrees of adjustment, and the final amount of each adjustment had to be perfectly precise!
In short, there is not a snowball’s chance this happened as botanists claim it did.
- Lloyd Pye
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