Dear Swillpit,

Well done, my boy! I never doubted you'd get the vacuous milksop to make peace with evolutionary science, as have so many religious folk.

I'm reminded of the clergyman who called for his church to issue an official apology to Charles Darwin. An apology to a dead man about a theory that is dead wrong; it doesn't get much sweeter than that, my boy!

Or how about the annual Evolution Sunday celebrations to "elevate the national dialog on the topic of religion and evolution?" Organized by clergy, mind you, who are critical of creationism. How sweet, indeed!

I see the volume by Francis Collins really tipped the scales, eh? But then, how could it miss? I mean, one of their most celebrated scientists, a professed Christian who rejects intelligent design and defends evolution, if of a theistic flavor; why it's like having our very own Minister of Information up there.

In the brief time he has had the spotlight, he has nudged quite a few carefully conditioned patients away from the creationist view—and most incredibly, without it ever occurring to him, or them, that their fashionable viewpoint is "intelligent design," albeit one significantly opposed to the account in that Book.

At the same time, this can seem a small victory given they still believe, and strongly so, in the Object of their Christian faith. But keep in mind, Swillpit, that the sure way to Hell is by a series of incremental adjustments so small, and seemingly innocuous, that they never notice they are woefully off course until they find themselves aboard Charon's skiff heading for the opposite shore.

A believer who turns against our Adversary in a moment of anger or doubt is just as likely to turn back when he becomes a father or is diagnosed with cancer. But the man who over years and decades has developed a thick crust of disbelief is nearly impenetrable; he's the type to dismiss a seraphic visitation as "an undigested bit of beef, a blot of mustard, a crumb of cheese, a fragment of underdone potato." Oh, how I devoured that story until its distasteful, and wholly, unrealistic turn. The legions of "Scrooges" who have passed through our gargoyled gates are testimony against that highly mythological ending.

Ah, but I digress!

With every victory, you should be at the ready with the next "right step." It grieves me how many earthlings have slipped through our talons because an Agent fell aswoon over his latest accomplishment. Your silence about this leads me to believe that you, too, are nodding under the stupor of success. Awake, sluggard! Back to your station!

Attend closely to my words, remain vigilant to the task at hand, and before long your pet will be slipping his head in the collar you have put before him...Continue reading here.