The Veil of Variety
Dinosaur Kinship and the Eternal Quest for True Discernment
4FORTITUDET - TECHNICAL SKILLS, CREATIVE ARTS, STEM
The Veil of Variety
Dinosaur Kinship and the Eternal Quest for True Discernment
“The things which are seen are temporal; but the things which are not seen are eternal.”
—2 Corinthians 4:18
Beneath Bones and Illusions: A Father’s Warning at the Fire
A father and his sons kneel beside a fire, not to warm themselves but to reckon with mystery. Before them lie fragments of bone—ancient, calcified, silent. Dug from the land with callused hands, each one hints at a world once ruled by giants. But the real weight pressing into the father’s chest is not the fossils—it is what they represent: not just a lost world, but a world misunderstood.
For all our supposed wisdom, we stand like children naming shadows on the cave wall. Science, like pride, rushes to label each shard a new species, a new story. Yet some men—Jack Horner among them—raise an uncomfortable possibility: that many of these names are lies. That what we thought were different creatures are merely young and old, male and female, strong and starving forms of the same resilient bloodline. In our haste to diversify, we may have obscured unity. And in doing so, we risk repeating that sin in our homes, our nations, and our souls.
Discernment begins in the hand that turns a bone and asks not what is this, but what has it become? Fathers must teach sons this skill—not for paleontology’s sake, but for survival. For in an age of engineered division, misreading kinship is fatal.
Fossils, Fables, and the War of the Names
In the late 1800s, two rival paleontologists—Othniel Charles Marsh and Edward Drinker Cope—waged what became known as the “Bone Wars.” Obsessed with fame, they named hundreds of new dinosaur species based on shattered remains, partial skeletons, and assumptions. Later study proved many were duplicates, juveniles, or misclassifications. Yet the names stuck, like myths etched into textbooks.
Modern science has tried to clean the mess. Yet a deeper reckoning looms. Jack Horner, a maverick paleontologist, dared to say what others feared: many “species” are illusions of age and ego. Triceratops and Torosaurus? Same creature—young and old. Dracorex and Stygimoloch? Youthful stages of the thick-skulled Pachycephalosaurus. Even the majestic Brontosaurus was once demoted, merged with Apatosaurus, then resurrected again by those unwilling to let go of the name.
“Differences in size, shape, and other characteristics,” Horner claims, “are often explained by growth, not genetics.”
In the fossil record, time distorts truth. A juvenile’s bones are porous, soft, mutable. As it ages, it changes form dramatically—frills emerge, skulls dome, postures shift. Without understanding growth stages, one creature appears as three.
So too with men.
We label our sons as rebels, our brothers as heretics, our fathers as relics—when all may be the same line at different stages. We are guilty of splitting what was meant to be one.
Discernment as a Sacred Weapon
In philosophy, the “lumpers vs. splitters” debate rages not just in paleontology but in how humans interpret all forms of life. Lumpers seek unity; splitters prioritize distinction. Both have merit, but each reflects a deeper metaphysical posture.
The Stoic Marcus Aurelius reminds us: “Observe constantly that all things take place by change.” To the Stoic, change is not novelty—it is form moving through time. What appears to be different is often simply becoming.
Eastern thought echoes this. Laozi speaks of the Tao birthing “the ten thousand things,” yet all flowing from and back into the same source. Diversity, then, is a ripple on the surface—not a fracture of essence. The wise man discerns the current beneath.
The Transcendent-Paradoxical Anchor emerges here:
From one, many. From many, one. To protect, discern difference. To unify, release illusion.
This is not mere mysticism. It is a map for survival.
In a collapsing society, survival depends not on how well we name things, but how well we see through them. The enemy will not wear a nametag. He may look like your neighbor. He may be your blood. Misreading him is death. Over-splitting kin is collapse.
Sacred Reversals: The Fossil as Mirror
Consider this: A father splits his children into categories—strong, weak, smart, rebellious—and treats them accordingly. Over time, those roles harden. The “weak” son never learns to lead. The “rebellious” daughter never learns to trust. The family fractures because the father confused stage with species.
Now scale this to culture. We split our people by creed, class, color, and code. We multiply identities until we forget the common root. And when trial comes, we do not stand as kin. We shatter.
To honor difference is virtuous. To mistake it for essential division is fatal.
Even nature warns us: biodiversity, misread, becomes a labyrinth. We celebrate 1,800 named dinosaur genera—yet Horner estimates over a third may be duplicates. We do this in theology, too. Every denomination a new species. Every doctrinal nuance a new divide. But the Creator is not split. And neither is truth.
Contradiction Clause:
We must honor true diversity—but sometimes, to honor the creature, we must lump the names.
Discernment, then, is not passivity. It is an active, sacred labor. To look at a thing and know its root. To see a man and know his season. To feel division and ask: Is this fracture real—or only named so?
Crossroads of the Soul: Ethical Precision in Perception
Steelmanning the opposition: Paleontologists like Darren Naish argue that splitting preserves detail, evolutionary nuance, and biological specificity. He’s not wrong. If we lump too freely, we erase adaptation. We risk ignoring meaningful differences that could reveal God’s ingenuity.
But here lies the third Resonant Dissonance:
Too much lumping obscures real threats. Too much splitting blinds us to unity.
The wise father walks this edge. He must know when to distinguish—and when to gather. When to isolate infection, and when to rejoin the body. When to rebuke the wayward son, and when to remember that rebellion may be youth, not corruption.
To wield discernment is to bear weight. But the price of laziness is higher. A man who cannot tell kin from stranger, ally from actor, child from adversary—he cannot lead. Not in his home. Not in collapse. Not in eternity.
Embodiment & Transmission: 10 Sacred Practices of Discernment
"What must be done—by the hand, the tongue, or the bloodline."
Bone Recognition Drill: Take your sons to dig, gather, or model bones. Practice identifying growth phases. Translate to people: how do we misread immaturity as rebellion?
The Naming Fire: Around a fire, write down all the names you’ve given people. Now burn those that may be illusions. Let the flame test your discernment.
Scroll of Kinship: Create a scroll tracking your bloodline, showing how men changed roles with age—child, warrior, father, elder. Read it aloud each season.
Lumper-Splitter War Game: Assign two groups in your household. One must unite roles; the other divide them. Argue both sides. Let truth emerge.
Dimorphism Roleplay: Act as someone misunderstood due to appearance or behavior. Others must discern truth. Debrief lessons.
Ontology Fast: For one week, stop using labels for people (liberal, lazy, broken). Speak only in descriptions. Reflect on how clarity shifts.
Tree Carving Rite: Carve one tree with many names. At its root, place one word: Essence. Discuss.
Ancestor Study Night: Research a misunderstood ancestor. Was he truly a black sheep—or simply in another growth phase?
Martial Discernment Form: Train your body to react not to appearances but patterns. Blindfold drills, intuitive movement.
Transmission Vow Ceremony: At a family gathering, vow to discern first, name last. Seal with scripture and shared bread.
Final Charge: Return to the Bone
Beneath the labels, beneath the fossils, beneath the mythologies—we return to one question:
Do we see clearly enough to preserve what matters?
Bold Actions:
Choose one person you've mislabeled. Approach them anew.
Teach your children the difference between change and corruption.
Sacred Question:
What false divisions have I mistaken for truth—and who has suffered for it?
Call to Action:
Gather your men. Read this aloud. Debate. Burn false names. Speak true ones.
Remember:
Discern the essence beneath the fracture, or fracture your legacy beyond repair.