designed by an idiot. My parts are neither interchangeable nor
replaceable. I could use a new ankle right now, and almost
everything I do injures my back. Some of my internal organs are
useless, and can even kill me. My risk-calculation engine is
useless. I am afraid to eat beef, but have no problem
catapulting myself down tree-lined roads on my motorcycle. My
judgment is so bad I can be convinced to send my life savings to
a complete stranger with just one phone call.
"The final stake in the heart of intelligent design is that there
are people we might otherwise consider intelligent, who, in the
face of all this, maintain we are functioning as intended."
- Eric Dietiker, Twain Harte, California
[The submitter notes: This rather intriguing take on the issue
was found in letter's section of the December Wired (print
edition).
http://bigpicture.typepad.com/writing/2004/12/on_evolution_an.html]
Submitted by: Barry Ritholtz
Dec. 10, 2004
