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Sleeping Alone ...

There was a time when he would jump onto my bed and stick his snoot in my face. The first thing I'd notice were his long, prickly whiskers. Then, if I wasn't too sleepy, I'd pet his fuzzy black head and back until he would plop down on his side as if a shot of barbital had just taken effect. And then for several minutes he would purr so loud that the folks upstairs could hear him through the bedroom ceiling. Finally, he'd get up and either jump down onto the floor, or walk over to the cushion that he knew was a bed of his own. And then he'd take a cat nap ... what other type of nap could he possibly take?

But I fear that those mornings are over. Last Wednesday my kitty-cat wondered off into the field for a while, maybe to hunt down a few field mice, just as he had done every day or every evening for about four years. That was a week ago. I had no hint that that might be the last I would ever see of him.

I always knew this might happen. It isn't easy being a country cat. The neighbors have dogs. The fields have wild coyotes. The woods have raccoons and only God-knows-what other critters. There's hardly any need to list all the things that can happen to a country cat.

Over four years ago, he was born in our barn. His mother was a stray. He had two brothers. Or maybe one was a sister, we don't know because a raccoon (we think) got it before we could tame it. The little black kittens hid in the cobweb-covered stack of old pallets in the lower stable of the barn, mewwing and terrified, hoping their mother would return soon, the only form of safety they had ever known in their tender, short lives. Four years ago might have been yesterday.

The first little kitten disappeared before we had a chance to know much about it. Like I said, a raccoon, we think. Then one day their mother disappeared, and we had two little kittens to feed and raise.

Luckily, they were old enough to drink milk. At first we'd have to put out the milk and go away so they would come out and drink. Later they got more used to us. One day one of them would let us touch him. A few weeks later, we were allowed to pick them up. A few weeks after that and they were as tame as if we had been the only mother they had even known.

Both were solid black. As they grew older, we noticed that one had short hair, and the other had long hair. Eventually, I named the one with the short hair "Sleek" --- but it wasn't long before he was referred to as "Slick." That's okay, his fur was both sleek and slick.

The one with the long, fuzzy hair got named Fuzzball. Remember the line from Star Wars, when Chewbacca gets upset about something and Harrison Ford turns to him and says, "Chill out, Fuzzball!" ... remember?

Slick was shy, and Fuzzball was the braver of the two. Before they were tamed, Fuzzball would hiss at me from between the old pallets.

Slick was also a hunter. When he grew up, he would go out into the fields on safari and be gone for weeks at a time. In December 2004 we had an 8-inch snow, followed by several nights of bitter cold. Slick wondered off and never came back. No need to list all the things that could happen to a black cat stuck in the blinding, white snow or the bitter December night.

Fuzzball was my baby. He would ride on my right shoulder as I carried him between the house and the barn. He'd watch the world go by over my shoulder while I cradled his rump in my left hand and petted him with my right. He never learned to control his claws, I could always feel them a little as he rode on my shoulder. I learned not to carry him that way without a shirt on.

In the final year, after Slick was gone, he developed a daily routine. He would show up at the door about sunrise. When the door was opened for him, he would come in and roll around on the floor, as if to dare his greeter to rub his belly. Then it was time for a bowl of milk. Usually my mom would serve the morning milk. The milk had to be warmed exactly twenty seconds in the microwave. He'd sniff the milk for a few seconds, and then plant himself into position so he could lap up the warm milk as quickly as he could. He usually licked the bowl dry.

Then often he would come down the stairs and find me in bed. That's when he would stick his snoot and whiskers in my face. Sometimes he had stickers in his hair, and I would fish them out. Then he would nap.

Sometimes his catnap would last all day. Toward supper time, he would come upstairs and meow. Then he'd get part of a can of canned cat food. Then it was time to go outside, probably to attend to some bathroom business, and then presumably to go hunting for the night. Or sometimes he would ride on my shoulder up to the barn to spend the night there in the barn.

If he napped upstairs, his favorite place was to nap on Mom's chair. He got so that he would race her to the chair, as if it was his chair. Then I'd have to go pick him up so that Mom could sit in her chair.

When we let him out in the evening, or when I took him up to the barn, I always knew there was a chance something would happen to him during the night. It isn't easy being a country cat. It isn't easy owning a country cat, either.

I've never loved a cat like I loved Fuzzball. He was my baby. Sometimes I would look at him, or pet him, and wonder how I would cope if he disappeared, or if I lost him somehow. I would think how much I loved him, and how it would hurt to say goodbye. As if I knew I would someday pay for the love he gave me with the pain of goodbye.

He had grown accustomed to hunting at night, and if I kept him inside all night he would be miserable. Country cats are just that way. When I'd say goodnight to him, I would pray for God to protect him through the night. It seemed like it always worked. Until it didn't.

There's no need to list all the terrible misfortunes that can befall a country cat. Country cats disappear all the time. As if I am the first to ever lose a pet, the loss grips my very being; but it is old terrain, old as the land itself. What words did Shakespeare use to capture grief? How can a horse, a dog, a rat have breath, but none for thee? You'll come no more, never, never, never, never, never.

He'll come no more to the porch doorway for the morning milk. Did God let me down the moment my little Fuzzball met his demise? Did God lead Mama Cat to our barn, knowing I would give her babies the love I did? What does one learn by loving a cat? What does one learn by losing a cat? Why do I lose a cat and ask confronting questions about God and His intentions? Who am I to ask such questions? Was little Fuzzball a special gift from God? If so, then why did God take him away? Why do I mourn so? Wouldn't it be just as proper to be thankful for the four years I had with him? What are the answers to these questions, or do these questions have answers?

He was just a cat. A cat that sometimes rubbed his cheek against my face as I petted him, as if to pet me back. A cat that purred in my lap through many a thunderstorm, he and I together listening to the rain falling against the tin barn roof. A cat that rode on my shoulder. I always could feel his claws prickling the skin of my shoulder. And I would cradle his rump in my one hand, and pet his fuzz-fur with the other. And he would purr, and rub his cheek against my face.    ###

Pew: Four in every ten Americans have an openly gay/lesbian friend or relative

May 23, 2007 - The Pew Research Center for the People and the Press today released survey findings that four out of every ten Americans knows an openly gay or lesbian friend or relative. Moreover, those who know an openly gay/lesbian person tend to have more favorable viewpoints regarding gay and lesbian civil rights and equal, open participation in society.

Here's the link: Four-in-Ten Americans Have Close Friends or Relatives Who Are Gay

This national story has an obvious local connection that I will rush to point out: The southern Indiana area is not exactly known for its openly gay/lesbian population; in fact, there are times when it is still difficult to find gay men and women who are open enough in their lives to serve as community organizers, spokespersons, or to accept other leadership roles. Personally, there are times when closetry looks to me like an epidemic in our neck of the Hoosier Hills, and this perception of things from time to time will move me to the edge of apathy or despair.

But the Pew poll shows empirical evidence that those who do live openly as gay men and lesbian women do influence the viewpoints of many in their lives. This effect was asserted early in the gay/lesbian movement --- and some in the movement have made it the primary focus of their activism, such as the late psychologist Rob Eichberg and publisher David Goodstein when they formed The Advocate Experience back in the late 1970's. (The Advocate Experience effort later re-named itself simply The Experience, and finally closed its doors officially in April 2001. However, it is still being offered privately to this day by its last workshop leader, seminars consultant  Honey Ward.)

After a bit of Internet research, I was glad to hear that Honey is still offering The Experience Weekend. One is coming up within days in Dallas, Texas, and another workshop will be offered in August in Santa Fe, New Mexico where Honey is headquartered.

Maybe an Experience weekend offered right here in southern Indiana is exactly the medicine our local epidemic of closetry calls for? Wouldn't it be a delight to hold an Experience weekend in one of our local casino facilities, such as Cesaer's Indiana or French Lick?

NYTimes reports British gay/lesbian soldiers cause very few problems

This powerful article, published May 21 by the New York Times, came to my attention via the email-list at gayindy.org. Even though it doesn't have a local hook, I've decided to post it.

Gay Britons Serve in Military With Little Fuss, as Predicted Discord Does Not Occur

The British government apparently is being careful not to influence the DADT debate in the US, but results such as this will be difficult to suppress.

Crothersville murder may be anti-gay hate crime

A Crothersville man was beaten to death earlier this month, and family members are wondering whether the man may have been murdered because the suspects thought he was gay. This murder has been widely covered by the area media, but the hate crime possibility has only recently come to light.

Police believe that Aaron Hall, 35, was beaten to death on April 12 by three suspects, one of whom now claims that Hall made a sexual pass at him during an evening of beer drinking.

Read the coverage by WTHR-13 of Indianapolis here. Coverage by WAVE-3 in Louisville, KY is here.

A post about the possibility that this is a hate crime can be read at "Advance Indiana" blog here.

Personally I don't know what to think. Did the sexual pass actually occur? Or are the suspects coming up with this story because they think that it is their best chance at getting off with a light sentence?

In any event, if the suspects stick with this story, the Indiana justice system needs to demonstrate that a man making a pass at another man is not a justification for murder. What ever happened to "Just say NO"?

In this sense, it might be the legal system itself that is being tested. Stay tuned.

Random thoughts on April flowers and my "Chain of Life"

Certainly one way to get in touch with the mysterious, cosmic, and spiritual sense of life is to ponder that we and all lifeforms on earth have a long and direct connection to the microscopic primitives that emerged from a primordial ooze millions and possibly billions of years ago.

Recently I watched a fascinating program on PBS's "NOVA" series about flowering plants --- certainly an apt topic for late April! It pointed out that we humans would not have evolved if we had not had the various fruits and grainseeds to eat, which in turn are products of the flowering plants. So in a sense, we are all "flower children". (Although we did not evolve from the flowering plants in any direct genetic lineage --- flowering plants developed much too late for that.)

And a friend's email about the recent presidential election in France caused me to think about my personal connections to that country, and I found myself writing these remarks:

Although I consider myself 100% German from a genetic standpoint, I note that several generations ago my ancestors on my mom's side were persecuted in their native section of Germany for their Protestantism, and migrated as religious refugees to the Alsace-Lorraine area in France, before later making the big trip across the pond to America.

And so it turns out, I am eighth-generation American on my dad's side of the family, and fifth-generation American on my mom's side. So, in a sense, Germany is my "old fatherland" and France is my "old motherland".

And of course, my really "old, old, old, old father/motherland" is Africa --- and nowadays I try not to forget that.

So go find a beautiful flower, spend a moment pondering it, and thank its ancestors for all their gifts to our ancestors.

Flowers are more than just beautiful --- they are literally a Gift of Life from the cosmos.

Another superb concert by the Louisville Orchestra in Corydon!

Such a wonderful yearly event, it is unfortunate it only comes once each spring!

Today (Sunday, April 22) was the day for the Louisville Orchestra to visit Corydon, Indiana to perform their annual concert as a fundraiser for the Leora Brown School. While (only slightly) less than perfect, the afternoon was a total delight!

2007 is the fifth year that Maxine Brown, niece of African-American school teacher Leora Brown, has spearheaded her ad hoc event committee to produce a thoroughly enjoyable cultural happening amidst the rolling Hoosier Hills and Indiana's first state capital "city." After so many years experience, clearly Maxine and company are doing things right!

This year the weather was perfect, and only music like that from the Louisville Orchestra could make us want to stay inside. The afternoon started off with a luncheon dinner at the Leora Brown School itself, presented by community cooks and helped along in major ways by Cesaers Indiana (scalloped potatoes and steamed mixed veggies), Tyson Foods (barbequed chicken --- what else?) and O'Charley's (sweet dinner rolls). Again this year Maxine's brother drove down from South Bend to stew up a mess of his quickly-becoming-famous cooked greens. Local cooks donated desserts that gave ample evidence that country cooking and baking is still alive and well.

And after a quick ride up to the main auditorium at the Corydon Central High School, the concert was about to begin. Maxine gave gracious welcoming remarks to the crowd, and warm thanks to the ever-growing Concert Committee, whose ranks this year counted over fifty. Special honorable mention went to Leah Porter, who ably chaired and co-ordinated this year's committee. Added welcomes were offered by Dr. Neyland Clark, superintendent of South Harrison Community School Corporation, and by Kevin Hammersmith of Duke Energy, a major business sponsor this year.

At last, the concertmaster appeared and the orchestra did their final tune-up. Then Conductor Stuart Chafetz emerged onstage, and after a few opening remarks the first music piece began, Cowboys Overture by movie composer John Williams. This music was performed well, enjoyable, vaguely familiar but hardly memorable. If Conductor Chafetz mentioned what movie it was used in I failed to catch it.

For the next piece, Chafetz warned us that he might expect the audience to sing along, or even dance along. It turned out he was kidding about the dancing, but was serious about the singing. As he charmingly introduced Selections from My Fair Lady by Frederick Lowe (Bennett, arranger), we began to pick up on it that Chafetz has quite a stage presence of his own. Sure enough, as the orchestra played familiar pieces such as I Could Have Danced All Night and The Rain in Spain, Chafetz would turn around and mouth to the audience that they were indeed expected to sing along. The audience obviously had fun doing so. Such behavior thoroughout the concert indicated that there was no need for an orchestra event in Corydon to be pretentiously high-brow.

At this point, I became surprised at the shortness of the selected pieces, which seemed consistently to end before I was ready. I began timing the music with my wristwatch.

I was also surprised that this year's student soloist performed so early in the program. Chafetz now brought out solo celloist Anne Richardson, winner of the 2006 Young Artist Competition in Louisville. Dressed in her lovely pink flowered dress, Anne told us, after some prodding by Chafetz, that she is ten years old and has been playing the cello for four and one-half years. She played beautifully Allegro Appassionato for Cello, Opus 43 by Camille Saint-Saens ... but again I was surprised at the brevity of the work, which my wristwatch told me lasted only four minutes.

Now Chafetz pointed out that the remaining music selections were all by African-American composers.

Next we heard Amazing Grace Fanfare for Orchestra by Adolphus Hailstork. Indeed, as Chafetz had explained, the strings played the melody from Amazing Grace while the horns provided the fanfare. But the music seriously disappointed me for the first time in the concert. The horns sounded like they might still be in Louisville, and it was unfortunate that different sections of the orchestra were so poorly balanced. But it did not ruin the piece. Nor did I have to tolerate for long, as this piece again was only four minutes.

Next came The Entertainer by Scott Joplin (Schuller/Belisle, arrangers), and Chafetz gave a short explanation about where the term "ragtime" came from: people had not heard sycopated rhythms before, and described them as "raggy" --- although we have heard them so much today that they hardly seem raggy to us. The piece was played beautifully, but again ended after four minutes.

It was followed by a medley of familiar tunes by Duke Ellington (Custer, arranger). I'm not up on all my Duke Ellington songs, but the first was definitely his very famous Take the "A" Train ... and I was a tiny bit frustrated that its real composer, Billy Strayhorn, did not get even a mention. (Strayhorn, also African-American, composed many of Ellington's pieces, but did not widely receive credit until recent years because of his sexual orientation.) We got to enjoy the Ellington music for a nearly-luxurious seven minutes.

The audience again had fun with a quick medley called Back to the Fifies! arranged by Robert Wendel. It featured Mr. Sandman, The Great Pretender, Que Sera Sera and the familiar fifties rumba Tequila! Again in response to Chafetz's comical, silently mouthed cues, at the right moments the crowd enjoyed yelling "Tequila!"

The last piece in this too-short afternoon was Polovtsian Dances No. 17 by Alexander Borodin, orchestrated by Glazunov. Chafetz let us in beforehand that one of its themes is the melody Stranger in Paradise ... and indeed, the sweet opening paragraphs, sublimely smooth and hauntingly sentimental, could have transported one into paradise. But then the piece moved into a middle section with dramatic, slightly cacophonous descents, which suggested to me the feeling of falling off-balance. The piece was indeed beautiful, ending again with the Stranger in Paradise theme, this time with a variation where the flutes and the violins merged so that we could imagine birds chirping and singing. At fourteen minutes, it was a superb selection for ending the concert.

The afternoon's performance was a magical 75 minutes that was over too soon, and I wish that a recording were available. The selections were wonderfully simple, and often familiar. The only problem I see is that such familiar pieces leave the audience with their musical horizons largely unchallenged.

On the other hand, we all had great fun, and we want everyone to come back next year. I know I will.

A Rural GLBT Anti-Bullying Project ... Far, Far Away!

A British video production group has been awarded 76,000 British pounds of British lottery money to make films to counter anti-gay bullying in rural areas. Link:

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/pages/live/articles/news/news.html?in_article_id=449300&in_page_id=1770

We wonder how different bullying issues are between the English countryside and the southern Indiana countryside? ... Not that different, we bet.

SJR-7: Without extra research, Paul Robertson keeps me guessing

Like a good little soldier, when Indiana Equality sends out an email notice stating that my State Rep or Senator, or members of a committee, need to hear from me about SJR-7, I often follow through. One such email even caused a sign of life to appear in my snail mail recently --- a form letter from my State Rep of House District #70, Paul Robertson.

(SJR-7 passed in both houses in 2005. In the current legislative session, it has passed in the Indiana Senate, and at the time of this post, is in committee in the Indiana House.)

For the sake of completeness, here is the full text of the letter I received:

"Dear Mr. Lopp,

"Thank you for taking the time to contact me. I appreciate learning of your thoughts on the various issues that are before the Indiana General Assembly.

"Hearing from my constituents regarding the issues that are being considered allows me to make better, informed decisions, and I appreciate your taking the time to share your sentiments with me.

"I thank you once again for your input into the legislative process. If you ever have any questions or concerns, please do not hesitate to contact me again.

"Sincerely, Paul J. Robertson"

On the surface:  The letter says absolutely nothing about the lawmaker's position on this issue --- in fact, it doesn't even identify what the issue is! But I have been told by an IE lobbyist (I believe it was Mark St. John, if I am not mistaken) that Mr. Robertson is more than merely supportive of the "Marriage Discrimination Amendment" --- he is virtually immovable. The letter I received seems to be in agreement with this evaluation.

Translation:  It is most likely that this is the type of form letter that a lawmaker sends in response when there will be a cold day in Hell before the lawmaker will vote in agreement with the opinion expressed by the constituent. But technically, he is keeping us guessing unless we know how to read between the lines.

Conclusion: The best guess is that the gay men and lesbians of House District 70 will need to help find a replacement for Mr. Robertson if they want favorable representation in Indianapolis. Even if he is a Democrat. That's the way the system works. Come out, come out, whereever you are!

Welcome to ajlopp.com!

Thanks for coming to visit! This blog is for gay men, lesbians, bisexuals, and transgenders ... and anyone else who fits under the general term "queer" ... and our non-queer friends and supporters ... who live in the area of Indiana that is near Louisville. I intend this area to be specifically Clark, Crawford, Floyd, Harrison, Orange, and Washington counties ... but if you are slightly out, or even way out, of these bounds your posts and comments are still welcome.

Ultimately, I hope that this blog can help network GLBT folks in this area, maybe even prove useful in bringing together one or several GLBT groups. Unfortunately, this area of Indiana is dominated economically and media-wise by Louisville, Kentucky, and this makes developing our own identities as Hoosier residents a bit more challenging. The same goes for our GLBT identities and sense of community --- GLBT organizations, institutions, and social life seems to be centered around Louisville.

There is one area, however, where it is very important that we remember that we are GLBT citizens of Indiana. Politics. Ouch, I said the dreaded p-word! Indiana has a constitutional amendment working its way through our statehouse --- through your statehouse --- that would prohibit any possibility of our current and future generations from having our same-gender relationships acknowledged by the Indiana legal system.

I suppose you have a right to be apathetic, but one reason I started this blog is to attract the sub-segment of our GLBT population that is willing to be politically active on GLBT issues. If the constitutional amendment makes its way onto a ballot for a vote by the citizenry of Indiana, I want our area to do its share in fighting to defeat this threat to our rights in the future.

This is not to say that posts that help us bring together social events, parties, and other fun stuff will be unwelcome --- quite the contrary! I hope that this blog will help develop a GLBT network and community in this region of the state, and social events are clearly part of that process.

Enjoy your visits to ajlopp.com!

The ID vs. Darwinism Debate: more silly than 'pulp fiction'

The entry below appeared as an "Our Readers Write" feature in the June 15, 2005 issue of the Corydon Democrat.

By Allen J. Lopp

Chad Phillips' submission regarding Intelligent Design vs. evolution (May 25, 2005) was disappointing at best. If Phillips is unhappy with the quality of the debate, he wrote nothing to improve it. Phillips criticizes columnists for not including facts and arguments in their commentaries, then fails to include any facts and arguments himself. Then he mudslings about other people's mudslinging.

Finally, perhaps his most unforgivable charge is that pro-evolution journalists are "cornering the market on propaganda." Please! Propaganda instead of fair, constructive debate seems to be the order of the day from all sides on all issues. Phillips denounces those who treat Darwinism as "sacred dogmas that cannot be questioned," yet I am confident that if I were to discuss with him, say, Biblical literalism vs. historical-critical exegesis, I'd find that Phillips has a few "sacred dogmas that cannot be questioned" of his own.

Finally, he attacks "liberal" journalists by mentioning Clarence Page, Ellen Goodman and Frank Rich in particular. Page is a black journalist, Goodman is a pro-feminist woman journalist, and Rich is an openly gay journalist. Is the teaching of evolution really the only issue here that has Phillips steaming? This submission gives me an excuse to present my own thoughts on evolution and Intelligent Design.

The biggest problem facing the promotion of ID is that it's largely viewed as the Genesis story in disguise. The fact that ID is championed by traditionalist Christians doesn't help this. Positioned as they are, the proponents of ID find — rightfully, I believe — that the weight of showing that ID is not "Genesis-lite" rests squarely upon their own shoulders.

If the pro-ID people were more intellectually nimble, this argument would be easy to make. When they do indeed start with Genesis and then tweak this and re-word that, their opponents have an easy accusation that ID promotes one particular religious viewpoint at public expense. But the truth is that the notion of divinity in the forces of creation is not specific to Judeo-Christianity. It is also present, although sometimes less explicitly, in Hinduism, Buddhism, Wicca, Native-American indigenous religions, and even some secular philosophical writings, Aristotle not being the least.

Because the idea of divine creation is part of many worldviews, it is easy to argue that presenting theism and atheism as alternate philosophical positions, to be given equal consideration by the probing individual, ought to be neither an intellectual problem nor a problem in church-state separation. The First Amendment requires that government not promote a particular religion, not that it pretend that the entire arena of religious thought itself does not exist.

But an even more fundamental point is this: Evolution and ID do not need to be mutually exclusive. In fact, they can be blended together quite well. This was explored over 25 years ago in one of my favorite books, "The Road Less Traveled," by M. Scott Peck, M.D.

Peck is a psychiatrist and psychotherapist. He writes as both a scientific thinker and a spiritual thinker. A major theme of his book is the integration of science with religion and spirituality. In the final part, Peck explores the nature of divine grace. Historically, the religious have considered grace to be a beneficent expression of God's love for humanity. Since Peck defines love as the will to nurture oneself or another to grow spiritually, he suggests that God's love and God's will for us to grow toward Him are one and the same. God's grace to humans is His nurturing of that growth.

Peck then wonders if the very development process of life — evolution — may indeed be further evidence of God's existence, love and grace. He proposes that evolution is miraculous, specifically because it violates the Second Law of Thermodynamics (an argument I personally disagree with, but I won't go into that here). Still, the notion that the guiding finger of God is in the genetic mutations that produce a more survivable creature instead of a less survivable one is a possibility that any open-minded, theistic-friendly scientist might entertain.

Moreover, pure evolution theory asserts that mutations occur randomly. Yet there are points in the evolutionary phylogenies (i.e., evolutionary developmental histories) of many species where it was required that several mutations occur simultaneously, or near-simultaneously. The likelihood of one particular mutation may be small, and the likelihood of multiple specific mutations occurring together is exponentially smaller still. Yet evolutionary biologists have identified instances in which these clusters of mutations must have occurred, sometimes with odds that have been virtually infinitesimal. When such extremely unlikely occurrences happen again and again, they do invite wonderment about whether an unseen guiding force is at work within the evolutionary process.

Thus, in my mind, the evolution vs. Intelligent Design "brou-ha-ha" is even worse than "pulp fiction." It is an ugly and unnecessary tempest in a teapot.

First, keep this mostly intellectual debate intellectual, instead of degenerating into emotionalism, political nastiness and propaganda spewing. Ours is a pluralistic world, and both sides need to learn how to co-exist with the other. If certain flavors of Christians would simply advance beyond a need to dictate to all of society their rigid dogma that the Genesis creation story be interpreted literally (when Jesus says, "I am the vine, and ye are the branches," does any evangelical insist that Jesus was literally a grape vine?), the public arena would integrate evolution into the already overwhelmingly popular conviction that God is the ultimate force that created and creates all things, including all living things, evolution or not.

Similarly, pro-atheistic scientists must surrender an equally ridiculous dogma: that the only scientifically acceptable position is the assumption of atheism. Science does not demonstrate that there is no God; science merely is silent on the issue. And in a world of scientific skepticism, it is just as valid to question the non-existence of God as the existence of God.     ■  ■  ■