An encounter with Mestre Didi

I’m persecuted, with its ups and downs, by the existence of God. Years have gone by and this could be my last position. I was a handsome boy, a little stupid, contemplative. My mother would take me to mass everyday. I would remain absorbed in the silence of the cathedral under the effect of that mystical drug which is incense. I would raise my gaze and see myself in the sky, together with my Madonna. This deistic folie a deux lasted for several years. Once adolescent I moved to the opposite side, in a radical and hot-tempered way, burning sacred images instead of incense and “eating” priests. This extremism didn’t last long, it couldn’t last, I’m a tranquil type; enough so to not keep hitting at the same nail. Throughout the years I declared myself agnostic.My agnosticism is today, with some oscillations, still in force. In the last ten years the chances of a possible God have increased. The discoveries in the field of genetics have brought about a frightening biological complexity. Everything starts in 1953, when Watson and Crick discover the DNA’s double helicoidal structure. Then, between 1961 and 1964, the genetic code is completely deciphered. The complexity and beauty of this quaternary code makes Rosetta Stone seem like a joke. The prodigious structure of haemoglobin, with its sequence of 574 intertwined amino acid molecules, which embracing each other, poetically compose our blood. I so happened to think that the “primordial soup” however polymorph, exuberant, could never have architected a wolf or a sparrow and even more so a woman. Ergo, an intelligence exists in the universe, a miracle maker, a God.Now, after reading Richard Dawkins [R. Dawkins, The Selfish Gene], I’m once again in doubt. I’ll give an example: the story of the fireflies. First of all we have the marvelous talent that all fireflies possess: the talent to produce light from the stomach, something that no belly dancer is able to do. There are different species of fireflies and each one holds a specific code of pulsating emission of light: its dialect, as ethologists say. This coded emission, is produced by the female to signal her presence to the male. Then, there is a pirate firefly that is able to learn the dialect of other species and can emit it. When the poor male shows up with his dreams of sex and glory, the female eats him up. Even worse than Almodovar’s women that kill while making love. Ergo, it would be a rascal God that enjoys doing sly tricks. I think that this subject led Darwin to not place credit on a supreme being. To me it seems like a serious thought. To give a definition of myself – at this point of the dispute – I don’t discard the existence of a rascal God.