Richard Dawkins convinced me to buy a diesel Jetta instead of a Prius.
Can any of us here honestly say otherwise about ourselves?
I didn’t get in to Oxford. I had to settle for a guinea pig at USC.
When I was a baby, quietly sleeping in my crib with my parents watching me, Richard Dawkins loudly flounced in the room. He looked my parents straight in the eye (he has movable eyes like some reptiles) and ejaculated, “My what a BEAUTIFUL babbe. I mean, beautiful for you two. What is her name?”.
After a few moments of my parents stammering, Dawkins proposed something… Nightmarish. " You know, natural selection is… Natural. Just say the word."
After a solid minute of stunned silence, he jauntily sauntered out of the room.
When I was in third grade and walking home from school, every day I would encounter Richard Dawkins dressed in a pantomime-dog-costume. He would chase me, barking, for a block or two, until my pudgy legs gave out. As I lay on the ground panting, he’d rifle through my book bag, and savage my papers with his teeth. Which looked suspiciously like they had some sort of additional metal appliances attached to them. Anyway.
In vain I would tell my teachers that the “Dawkins Dog” ate my homework.
I flunked everything, and had to repeat the year. On the first day of my second year of third grade I looked out the window and espied Mr. Dawkins across the street, sans costume and smoking a cigarette. He met my gaze, held it for a minute, dropped the cigarette to the ground, crushed it under the heel of his be-tassled loafers, saluted me with one finger, and sauntered off.
Nicely done. Is this turning into an impromptu creative writing class?
Is it just me, or did your childhood home have a serious Dawkins infestation.
I bet they had to get the entire house tented for Dawkineggs.
I don’t have a lot of phobias, but there is something about a hole dropping into the Earth that goes down so far that no one knows where it ends that freaks me out.
Awwwww come on. Live a little!
Step lightly now!
My dog and I are both afraid of balloons. Probably from that time Richard Dawkins sashayed into the room with a giant balloon full of methane for an “experiment”.
When I was five, Richard Dawkins appeared on the kindergarten playground and told me that my public school education would keep me out of all but the lowest-paying careers when I grew up.
“But I’m gonna be a scientist, because I’m good at astronomy,” I squeaked.
He laughed at me. “Oh, you think so, kid?”
“Yeah, look at all the stars!”
And then I kicked him in the ding-ding.
(h/t to Eddie Murphy)
Did he forget his brain-mouth filter again?
I find this sudden hate towards the great doctor quite puzzling.
I doubt the hatred towards him from the various people in this thread is “sudden”. He went out of his way to personally insult and traumatize them as children. They’ve probably hated him for a long time - you know, since they got over blaming themselves for what happened. I’m sure a lot of therapists out there have felt like broken records repeating the truth, “It isn’t your fault. Richard Dawkins is responsible for his own actions.”
I’ve been in electroshock therapy and NLP unbinding for 40 years now after what he did to me and my dog. I’ll never forgive him. With time, I have learned to mourn the loss of my childhood and move on, although diminished.
When I was eight or so I had a birthday party. A cake was baked, there were balloons, and a few neighborhood friends. Low key, party hats, good memories.
Until Richard Dawkins entered the room.
Everyone fell silent, and he knelt next to my ear and whispered, “The cake you just ate?”
“Yyyyyes, Dr. Dawkins?”.
“… I made it with my hair, which turns out to be a great emulsifier. Enjoy cooking”.