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I turned on the TV the other day only to see a fat guy staring at me. This is fairly common in America, but it still surprises me because I am sophisticated. “What a dinosaur”, I though as I prepared to change the channel while scarfing down a Krispy Kreme. I must be kind of a big deal, because that is exactly what he was talking about.

I refer, or course, to dinosaurs rather than Krispy Kreme. The guy was going on about how Brontosaurus vertebrae were hollow or something. Of course, he didn’t say Brontosaurus because for some reason that is the scientific equivalent of the word Nigger, but the meaning was there. This makes no sense, or course, as there is no way that hollow bones could have supported such a massive animal, but the high priesthood of any cult is impervious to logic.

The proof is undeniable.

And cult it is! Dinosaurlogy cannot be called a science because it fails the most basic test. In most sciences, our knowledge of the subject increases as time passes and more data is accumulated. However, in dinosaurlogy, as the science “progresses” the data becomes less and less available as more skeletons are exhumed, mistreated and partially destroyed just so that some loser could get off on looking at bones much bigger than his.

Proponents of dinosaurlogy try to justify their acts by claiming all knowledge is useful when in fact their profession is entirely based on the destruction of material that could one day be used to acquire real world, parctical knowledge (I refer of course to the rocks). Leave the bones in the ground, where they belong, and go run a triathlon or something instead.

I have a theory about why some people are interested in dinosaurs. It involves insufficient paternal love.

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