This is a photo I took from Montmartre's hill in
Showing posts with label creationism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label creationism. Show all posts
We Are Primates
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Baby Chimps are as
Bright as Human Infants
By Jack Grimston
Bright as Human Infants
By Jack Grimston
Chimpanzees have long been known for their ability to mimic humans. Now scientists have found that baby chimps’ mental development can even be more advanced than children of the same age. At nine months, the animals are just as curious and capable of recognising carers and familiar objects as the average baby. When compared with infants kept in isolated conditions in orphanages, the animals are even more advanced. The scientists who carried out the research believe their research also provides valuable evidence that chimpanzees, like humans, thrive on social interaction. The more intimate their contact with their carers, the faster their brains develop. >>> Read the full article
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Tags:
ape,
Ben Heine,
biology,
Charles Darwin,
chimp,
creationism,
Darwinism,
DNA,
evolution,
genes,
Lamarck,
monkeys,
natural selection,
origin of species,
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We Are Primates
The Struggle for Life
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© 2009 - Ben Heine.
Voyage to Cythera
A poem by Charles Baudelaire
Free as a bird and joyfully my heart
Soared up among the rigging, in and out;
Under a cloudless sky the ship rolled on
Like an angel drunk with brilliant sun.
"That dark, grim island there--which would that be?"
"Cythera," we're told, "the legendary isle
Old bachelors tell stories of and smile.
There's really not much to it, you can see."
O place of many a mystic sacrament!
Archaic Aphrodite's splendid shade
Lingers above your waters like a scent
Infusing spirits with an amorous mood.
Worshipped from of old by every nation,
Myrtle-green isle, where each new bud discloses
Sighs of souls in loving adoration
Breathing like incense from a bank of roses
Or like a dove roo-cooing endlessly . . .
No; Cythera was a poor infertile rock,
A stony desert harrowed by the shriek
Of gulls. And yet there was something to see:
This was no temple deep in flowers and trees
With a young priestess moving to and fro,
Her body heated by a secret glow,
Her robe half-opening to every breeze;
Read the full poem
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