It really never ceases to amaze me how the Church of Darwin blindly ahderes to their spoonfed dogma, no matter how contradictory their claims are to the evidence. The infinite monkeys theorum is one of my favorites in this respect.
The claim is as follows: Given an infinite amount of time an infinite amount of monkeys typing on typewriters could produce the works of Shakespeare. It’s a claim that infinite time, chance and randomness can somehow account for the order of the present universe, which we find daily, from the miniature universes contained in [what Chuck Darwin supposed were] “simple” cells to the makeup of the actual universe itself, which we increasingly discover to be infinitely more complex than we first supposed. This is ironic because the monkey analogy was first proposed by someone who used to it to show how some things, like monkeys on typewriters producing Shakespeare, were so improbable to the point of being impossible!
Infinite monkey theorum has a few basic and practical problems, as has been amply demonstrated, but it helps to review them, just in case some knuckle-dragging Darwinist zealot decides to toss them into another debate with the rest of his borrowed viewpoints.
Infinite monkey theorum makes several unspoken assumptions. The short list includes: information [language], a device [the typewriter] or filter for processing said language [which limits the possibilities to symbols which only carry meaning for language], a device for generating random keystrokes [the monkeys] and an interpreter [the unnamed observer who checks to see if said keystrokes amount to anything]. It goes unsaid that this scenario used by naive and apparently unthinking Darwinists strongly implies design, meaning and purpose.
This seems to be a HUGE problem for Darwin apologists, this trying to come up with an analogy that describes macroevolution without accidentally infering design and purpose in the process. Take, for instance, Richard Dawkins “weasel shakespeare” analogy, wherein he proposes a set of progressive steps whereby random symbols could eventually form a specific line from Hamlet, namely “Methinks it is like a weasel.” Unfortunately, Weasel Dawkins runs into the same problem inherent in the infinite monkey theorum, because he proposes the process includes a filter to recognise and keep elements needed to create the desired sentence. That means he cheated, folks, since he claims that natural selection is blind and undirected. But his filter implies intelligence, purpose and meaning, which implies intelligent design for the entire process – which isn’t surprising, since [while he is misusing said intelligence] the step-by-step for creating the weasel shakespeare line was designed by an intelligent agent!
And here’s the rub. When we see evidence of irreducible complexity and purpose in the observable natural world, we are able to infer, by appealing to the most probable cause or best explanation, that it is the product of an intelligent agent.
But back to the monkeys.
They’ve put the infinite monkey theorum to the test. Two tests in particular show further weaknesses of the argument.
The first I’d like to mention shows the most practical problem with the analogy. The argument requires that monkeys simply exist to tap typewriter keys, but of course if you give a real monkey a typewriter, he doesn’t just stick with the program. No, he beats on it with a big rock. He poops on it. He pees on it to show his utter contempt for it. He ignores it for most of the time. When he finally does type, what you get is pretty much the same letter [“S”] repeatedly typed over an over with infantile abandon. This according to a study made by Plymouth University researchers at the Paignton Zoo in England.
So you can’t use natural monkeys. You have to propose that the “monkeys” are just theoretical agents of nature. OK. They tested this one famously, too, on The Monkey Shakespeare Simulator, a webpage that has [unfortunately] been shut down [probably because Darwinist zealots didn’t like the implications of the results of said simulator]. And you’ll be surprised to discover that the “monkeys,” each tapping a random key at one per second managed to complete 24 letters from a line in King Henry IV. Unfortunately, it took a little over a trillion, trillion, trillion monkey years, a timespan which is far older than the proposed age of the universe. Another bleeding tested failure of Darwin’s theological proposal for a purely mechanistic explanation of nature. Yet another huge, whopping hole in Darwin’s Dyke.
You think they’d give up, but their faith makes their religious dogma unfalsifiable [at least in their eyes]. Of course, whenever the evidence stacks up against them, they just monkey with the theory until it “fits” again.
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Q: What do you get from a room full of monkeys with typewriters after a million years?
A: A room full of dead monkeys.
The analogy assumes that with an infinite span of time all conceivable events will ultimately happen. Mathematically, this only happens in some functions. Parabolic and hyperbolic functions never cross the infinite spectrum of available points (Y), given an infinite set of independent variables (X). In fact, one might more logically surmise that, with time, things will develop in the opposite direction, hyperbolically approaching complete disorder. That is to say that if a monkey happened to write a few words of Shakespeare, he would, given enough time, destroy it before it could conceivably be completed. Time helps in both directions, but more favorably toward disorder.
It is and always has been a sophomoric (stupid) analogy. First, if there were an infinite number of monkeys, they would fill the universe, since the universe is finite. Second, once all the books were typed, what would they type, since infinity doesn’t terminate. Let’s see, they’d type all of the phone directories for all cities worldwide, and with no errors, since when an error was typed, they’d simply start over. They would also type all books ever published, and in every language.
Or, they’d be lucky to type a sentence or two that made sense. The concept of infinity is theoretical, and probably doesn’t exist in reality. It would be impossible to have an ‘infinite’ number of anything, since numbers, to be numbers, have to be a finite number. Time on the other hand could be infinite, assuming it was ongoing and would never stop/end. BUT, if it did terminate, then the assumption it was infinite is disproven.
Finally, 4.3 billion years (a small number, actually) is insufficient time for chance mutations to construct a complex system or organ, since the intermediate steps would offer no survival advantage, and thus NOT become fixed in a population.
Design requires a certain amount of look ahead (even fewer than the total ultimate number of steps), or it’s not designed, and will never occur. No look ahead; no complex organ.
Dawkins’ original weasel program probably took minutes to run 20 years ago. If you ran the same code today, the program would almost instantly print out the Shakespeare phrase. If you saw this happen and then looked at the source code, you’d see the phrase right there in the program text, so what could you do, but shrug? Are you supposed to be impressed because the program instantly wrote out a string stored in the data area? La-di-frickin’-da, right?
But that doesn’t make a difference. It shows that it can’t happen in a concievable amount of time.
I could create a program that will randomly type until it makes your post. I’ll leave it running all night. Let’s see what happens.
Whoops… after I went to bed I realized that there was a glaring error in my code. It would only type letters, not symbols. So I’ll change it to see if it can type abcdefghijklmnopqrstuvxyz.
The longest so far is abc right now