Inspired by the comments (though not the actual initial post) on PZ’s post here. My verse is more a response to the general issue than to the specifics of the posted incident.

Jennifer, Jennifer, got herself pregnant,
The poor, irresponsible slut.
See, boys will be boys, so it’s up to the girls
To be moral, and keep their legs shut.
But Jennifer, Jennifer, couldn’t be bothered;
She led her young Billy astray.
They met, after classes, at Jennifer’s house,
And now there’s a kid on the way.

Jennifer, Jennifer, wants an abortion—
She says she’s too young for a baby—
But the law of the land says abortion is murder;
The answer is no, and not maybe.
See, murder is murder; we cannot condone
The destruction of innocent life.
And Billy, of course, is an innocent, too,
And he’s much, much too young for a wife.

So Jennifer, Jennifer, finds herself caught
In the view of a watchful Big Brother,
And Country and Church have a task on their hands—
How to keep the babe safe from its mother.
If murder is murder, for fetus or child,
Then surely assault is assault;
A fetus is damaged by drinking or smoking,
And all of it, Jennifer’s fault.

If Jennifer, Jennifer, falls down the stairs
Then the baby inside could be harmed;
And since that poor child is a ward of the state
It is right we should all be alarmed!
So Jennifer, Jennifer, needs to be safe
For the sake of the babe in her womb;
To keep the poor innocent safe from all harm,
Let’s keep Jennifer locked in her room.

But Jennifer, Jennifer, isn’t the first
Nor the last to be pregnant, you see.
The task that’s before us—protecting our children—
Is crucial, I think you’ll agree.
With the passing to law of my modest proposal,
I honestly think we’ll prevail.
It’s simple: Each woman who finds herself pregnant
Must spend the next nine months in jail.

Jennifer, Jennifer, shielded from harm
In a cell with a toilet and cot
With a closed-circuit camera, an unblinking eye,
For the safety of Jennifer’s tot.
When at last you deliver your new baby boy
We’ll whisk you right out through the door;
We care about kids while they’re inside your womb—
Once they’re out, we don’t care any more.

…

And Jennifer, Jennifer, can’t find her Billy—
Besides, he’s too young for a wife—
She weighs her alternatives, looks down each road…
And reluctantly takes her own life.

And the church says a prayer for the baby unborn
And a heartfelt and tearful farewell.
But Jennifer, Jennifer, so says the church,
Will be heading directly to hell.

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Some priests take vows: stability,
Obedience, and chastity,
Some take a vow of poverty,
And then, there is The Pope.
Some give up almost every thing
That modern life can surely bring
But look upon that Papal Ring
With lust, or greed, or hope.

They gladly take authority,
Relieving folks like you or me
From any need to think, you see,
Then listen to our sins.
To hear some girl or boy confess
How lust has made their life a mess
Brings fullness to a priestly dress
The minute it begins

“I’ve coveted my neighbor’s ass,
When, such a lovely little lass,
She dressed right by the window glass–
It’s quite a frequent bother!”
If it were not for fear of God
And Satan’s massive cattle prod
I swear a priest would shoot his wad
With every “Bless me, Father…”

And now the Pope, on throne of gold,
Decides to blame, so we are told,
His enemy from days of old–
The folks who don’t believe–
For lust for power, ego, greed,
For taking more that what they need
Rejecting his ascetic creed
And giving earth the heave.

He has the gall to preach restraint
And act the part of slighted saint;
I have to tell myself, “how quaint!
He acts as if we care!”
Surrounded by his gold and jewels,
Pontificating papal rules
To sycophants and silly fools…
Humanity, beware!

Perhaps restraint is what you want if
You are going to say this, Pontiff–
Seems a bit too nonchalant, ef-
fusing thoughts like these,
Ensconced in your luxurious palace,
Sipping from your golden chalice
It frankly, Ratzi, feels like malice:
Authority? Oh, please.

Cuttlecap tip: PZ.

Wait. I thought it was Pat Robertson’s prayers that kept Florida safe from hurricanes. According to PZ, though, it is really the work of the Governor. Well, it’s his job, I guess. Which he does by sending prayer scrolls to Israel to have them stuffed into the cracks of the Western Wall in Jerusalem. Seriously.

The stuffing of scrolls
Into cracks, clefts, and holes,
Like the layering of plaster on lath,
Blocks the passage of wind,
And (for those who have sinned)
Even stands in the way of God’s wrath.

The hurricane season
Robs people of reason,
Replacing it, mostly, with fear;
The strange become stranger—
Thank god that the danger
Lasts only for three months a year!

The far bigger threat
Are the people who bet
They’ll win votes, or donations of money
Playing kiss-ass with god
For the public. It’s odd,
And it’s more than a little bit funny.

The Florida weather
Brings people together
To mutter a terrified prayer
Whenever they mention
Divine intervention
You know it’s a lot of hot air.

So I was watching a video interview of Dr. Francis Collins, and found it thoroughly depressing. Reporter Dan Harris does a good job, but Dr. Collins is utterly frustrating. We get the “God gave us two books” bit, where both the bible and the actual evidence of the universe around us are given equal footing (even though he doesn’t entirely understand the former). “How could that possibly be a conflict of truths?”, we are asked. Apparently, when the bible and the universe appear to disagree, that must be a case of Collins not quite understanding the bible.

The conflict between Genesis and science leads to “it was not a textbook of science!“–so, when the two collide, it looks like the bible is the one that gives. But…”Once you’ve accepted the idea of a God who is the creator of all the laws of nature, the idea that God might at unique moments in history, decide to invade the natural world and suspend those laws, doesn’t become really a logical problem.” So at least with regard to the story of Jesus, looks like science has to give. And sure, once you have gone all the way to believing in an interventionist god, any subset of that belief is, in comparison, small change.

But… can Collins assure us that his own work on the Genome Project (for instance) is not one of those unique moments in history? Perhaps everything that he has found is not the way things really are, but only the way things are while god suspends the laws; once we have accepted the idea of intervention, and the notion that we are as mortals inadequate to determine which are the laws and which are the exceptions, any scientific conclusion we come to must necessarily, explicitly, include some version of “if that’s ok with God, that is.” Or is Dr. Collins claiming to be able to know for certain that god is not mucking about with his data?

The scientist told me
He said it so well:
The secret to life, son,
It’s all in the cell—
The key to our essence
It’s there in our genes
Except when it isn’t… cos god intervenes.

Within every cell, son,
The scientists proved,
Sub-cellular structures
And things that they moved
Molecular transport
Like little machines
Except when it isn’t… cos god intervenes.

We know, even Darwin
Said it all looks designed
But natural selection
Is all that we find
With blind evolution
Directing the scenes
Except when it doesn’t… cos god intervenes

He’d worked on The Project
From when it began
The one that’s decoding
The genome of Man
And Collins knows science,
And he really knows genes
Except when he doesn’t… cos god intervenes

In the journals of science
The write-ups will change
There’ll be an addition
A little bit strange
Cos in the conclusions
The asterisk means
“Except when it doesn’t… cos god intervenes.”

A cure for depression
Might seem to work well
In a medical journal
The researchers tell
“It stops oxidation
Of monoamines*
*Except when it doesn’t… cos god intervenes”

The worst of disasters
We call “acts of god”
The faithful believers
Must think that it’s odd
With whole coastal regions
In smashed smithereens
Is that what it look likes … when god intervenes?

We study the genome
We study the prayer;
About intervention,
We find nothing there.
We find antibiotics
And look for vaccines
Cos no one can count on… when god intervenes

The methods of science
Have practical worth
We don’t look to heaven
But merely to earth
There’s one or the other
There’s no in betweens
It cannot be science… when god intervenes.

In an interesting look at the intersection of faith and science, we see another example of (I believe it was) Dennett’s observation that religious practice may change due to scientific discovery, but that the flow of information seems to only go from science to religion, never from religion to science. In times of illness, people may turn to science, or they may turn to their faith, for comfort. Some fully expect healing miracles, but I would be surprised if many people felt that turning to faith for comfort would actually be harmful (in and of itself–I will assume here that people still see a doctor; if they turn to religion instead of medicine, we have a different story). Turns out, the church has found that some of its cherished rituals may indeed contribute to the spread of swine flu, and they are taking measures (as they should) to address the issue and to limit the spread of the virus.

A bishop has advised that holy water be removed from churches in a bid to halt the spread of swine flu.
The Bishop of Chelmsford, the Right Reverend John Gladwin, said at some churches people were invited make a sign of the cross using holy water.
“The water in stoups can easily become a source of infection and a means of rapidly spreading the virus,” he said.

They are also asking people with flu symptoms not to drink communion wine from the chalice, and are advising priests to wear protective gear if they feel they must visit flu sufferers. Apparently, the Church recognizes the effectiveness of barrier methods of protection against viral infections. For priests, anyway, if not for people in Africa.

In sane and thoughtful words, which ought
To comfort and inspire us,
The Bishop says the love of God
Will not hold back a virus.
Holy water, used for prayers
By people in a group,
May somewhat inadvertently
Be turned to swine flu soup,
And spread the flu to others, who
Might dip their fingers there,
And so the Bishop, rightly, asks
His flock to take some care.

Communion wine, the Blood of Christ,
Where all may share a chalice,
May also act to spread the flu,
Though not through purposed malice.
The Bishop, faced with evidence,
Could not remain a fool—
Communion is a sacrament,
But still he changed the rule.
You now can take communion with
No wine, but just a wafer;
If Christ’s blood is infected, then
The cracker may be safer.

Lastly, those who get the flu
And want a priest to visit
Are apt to have some problems here
(Not unexpected, is it?)
The priests should wear an apron,
Surgeon’s mask, and sterile gloves,
Before they meet with sickly folks
To show how much God loves.
It’s simple, but it’s good advice
When comforting a carrier,
God knows, when fighting viruses
It’s best to use a barrier.

It’s new! Improved! Efficient!
It’s got power! It’s got speed!
There are some who’ll even tell you it’s the only thing you’ll need!
It makes medicines effective!
It makes buildings extra-strong!
It’s the reason that we’re healthy, and it’s why we live so long!
It can help us find more energy,
Or help us grow more food,
And begin to answer questions that we always have pursued.
When it breaks, it’s self-repairing,
Till it’s better than before,
So there really isn’t any competition any more.

But the market can be fickle;
Many buyers may refuse,
And prefer the obsolete, because it’s what they used to use;
Sure, it’s rather old and cranky
And it isn’t like it works,
But the buyers are accustomed to its problems and its quirks.
Is there any way to reach them?
Is this segment simply lost?
After all, they’d get more benefit, and suffer smaller cost!
I found a friendly framer,
And inquired for advice,
But the counsel that was offered had me thinking more than twice:

“You’ve got quite a nifty product,
And it’s working really well,
But you need to offer Heaven, and you need to threaten Hell;
You need to tell your customers
God loves them, every one,
And that purchasing your product is what Jesus would have done.
If you want to do some selling
(And you do) then I’ll be blunt—
You have to, have to, have to give the people what they want!
The problem with your product is,
You made it much too good!
If maybe you could cripple it, I think perhaps you should.”

“If you build a better mousetrap
Then the world will beat a path
To the older, lesser mousetrap with the smiting and the wrath;
It’s the mousetrap that they’re used to,
And aesthetically it’s nice,
And it doesn’t really matter if a mousetrap catches mice.”
So listened, quite politely,
And I thought a moment more,
Then I quietly went back to just the way I worked before.
No heaven, hell, or angels,
Gods or demons, prayer, or voodoo—
So tell me… if the choice was yours… well, what the heck would you do?

Inspired by this post.