Paradox Lost: A Divine Comedy

By Daniel L. Lowery

Daniel L. Lowery uses the power of myth to destroy the myth of creationism. He evokes such literary masterpieces as Paradise Lost, The Divine Comedy, Faust and more to expose the false idols of Creationism and Intelligent Design.
As in Dante's "The Divine Comedy" this first installment shows the protagonist, Steve Adams, enduring the purgatory of high-cost education, crushing debt, poor job prospects and limited social life. It causes him to accept a position at a creationist university despite the warnings he receives.
This first part of Paradox Lost shows why there is so much intellectual dishonesty in America. How do Creationists, Global Warming Deniers and the Flat Earth Society get their members? This edition demonstrates that overwhelming debt plays a large role.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Daniel L. Lowery
• Release date: Feb 16, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301140497

Daniel L. Lowery

ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Daniel L. Lowery writes books that challenge the status quo. While looking for solutions to his own David and Goliath struggle, Lowery noticed very few management books geared to the independent business owner. CEO’s, vice-presidents and other executives could draw on the acumen of Churchill, Robert E. Lee, Sun-Tzu and a host of other historical figures for their problems, but the issues of the smaller entrepreneur were scarcely mentioned. Puzzled by the lack of material on this subject, Lowery spent the next seven years researching the best methods for smaller businesses to compete against their giant adversaries. From that research came Battling The Corporate Giants: The Ultimate David and Goliath Story: a book truly written from the trenches of corporate warfare.Recently Lowery has spoofed the Creationist movement with Paradox Lost. A book that evokes such literary masterpieces as Paradise Lost, The Divine Comedy, Faust and more to satirize the false idol of Intelligent Design.Now Lowery explores the narcissistic world of contemporary romance with his provocative collection of short stories and poetry, The Reflections of a Narcissist. A book that holds a mirror up to modern love and reveals a society laughing at its own narcissism.Daniel L. Lowery resides in Ramona, California with his wife Claudia, son Ryan and daughter Larissa. He is always looking for a good opportunity.

Book preview

Paradox Lost: A Divine Comedy

By

Daniel L. Lowery

Copyright 2012 Daniel L. Lowery

Smashwords Edition

BOOK: I

Il Purgatorio

Paradoxes are the grammar of philosophy.

Chapter 1

A Shitty Life

To the biologist, the Galapagos Islands are something of a Holy Grail. To these scientists this land is as hallowed as any Mecca or Wailing Wall. For members of their calling these islands are a holy shrine upon which they all must eventually make a pilgrimage. Like all pilgrims, they seek to walk in the footsteps of their greatest prophet and founder, Charles Darwin. They long to touch the land that he has touched, to see what he has seen, to breathe in the same air, to achieve a spiritual communion through this physical experience. Before they can reach this lofty summit though, most biologists must spend a few years wandering in the wilderness. This certainly proved true for Steve Adams who after finishing graduate school found himself working at Baal Laboratories in New Canaan, Illinois.

All I do all day is look at blood, piss and shit, he complained to his co-worker and roommate Phil Weeks. As the stool samples piled up on his desk, he looked up from his microscope and said:

Wow! The shit is really piling up today!

Shit happens, replied Weeks clanking down another pile of samples.

The two men then sorted through the crates, took out the test tubes then smeared the samples onto the microscope slides. After examining them, they labeled each sample according to their findings. By now, they could often tell by color what the stool sample would reveal: black meant blood in the stool, tan meant hepatitis and yellow meant too much fat in the diet. For amusement, they would often bet a beer on what their research would reveal. When Adams’ predictions became true Weeks would quip:

Say, you really know your shit, Steve-O.

Thank you, my friend, replied Adams as he put his hand on Weeks shoulder, I’ve just got a nose for this kinda shit.

When they first started this job, they usually put a white paste under their nostrils that supposedly neutralized the odor, but in reality, it merely replaced it with a less offensive chemical odor. So they rarely used this paste unless the smell got so bad they actually preferred the chemical smell to the feces smell. On summer nights like this one though, they generally let the extractor fan do their dirty work. After several hours of sorting through the samples, Adams exclaimed:

What’s the point of all this shit?

How long can this shit go on?

It's a shitty job, but somebody's got to do it.

It's the same old shit week after week.

Actually, Adams corrected Weeks, it is different shit. It just all seems the same.

Well, I'm sick of the same old shit. What do you say we go out tonight and drown our troubles in a couple of brewskis? Adams and Weeks then began stacking the crates of examined stool samples in the corner.

Oh, it's the same shit out there as it is in here.

Come on, Steve-O, pleaded Weeks from his ever increasing pile, it's Saturday! The seventh day. Even God partied on the seventh day.

I thought he rested.

The important thing is that He got away from His work, and that's what we ought to do. Weeks then stacked the final pile of stool samples in the corner. Come on—what do you say?

I guess I shouldn't let this shit get the best of me. OK, let's go.

And so they went out, to the bars on Rush and Division Street in downtown Chicago. They took the toll road from New Canaan into the city then drove around the downtown area for about 15 minutes searching for a parking space before they finally caved in and paid $7.00 per hour at a garage.

From appearances, the two men looked as though they came from different worlds. Weeks was short, pudgy and cherub-faced whereas Adams was tall and lean with a lantern jaw that resembled the statues of antiquity. Adams thought about how his sprite companion might fare with the women they’d meet as they trekked over from the parking garage to the flickering lights and flashing neons of Rush and Division Streets.

As they entered a bar, called Mother's, a swarm of waitresses buzzed around them as they informed them about their drink specials. The waitresses dressed in short-shorts and tight shirts, and were really friendly unless their tip was less than half the price of the drinks. Then they treated