A Visit to the Creation Museum

Vanity Fair

RELIGION

God Created Mannequin. Left: Adam and Eve; right: hammering home a point.

Roll Over, Charles Darwin!

On the 150th anniversary of Darwin’s masterwork, the author visits Kentucky’s Creation Museum, which has been battling science and reason since 2007. Adam and Eve, Noah’s Ark: it’s a breathtakingly literal march through Genesis, without any hint of soul. Plus: Paul Bettany photographs the Creation Museum.

BY A.A. GILL

PHOTOGRAPHS BY PAUL BETTANY

FEBRUARY 2010

It’s not in the nature of stoic Cincinnatians to boast, which is fortunate, really, for they have meager pickings to boast about. They could, though, if they were the bragging sort, brag about a quaint old optician’s shop that will make you a new pair of spectacles in an hour—by chance I am both shortsighted and had an hour to spare. As the nice lady gave my new lenses a polish, I asked her if she thought the eye was such a complicated and mysterious structure that it could have been created only in one inspired, farsighted moment by God and not by the blind trial and error of natural selection. “That kind of makes sense,” she smiled. But then, Galileo invented a refracting telescope and the church locked him up for pointing out that, as he learned by observing the rest of the solar system, the earth isn’t the center of the universe. Do you think that glasses might be the work of the Devil? She smiled again. “Would you like a hard or a soft case with that, sir?”

Perhaps the biggest thing the citizens of the “Queen of the West” have to tell a tall tale about is the Creation Museum. Twenty minutes outside of town, just over the Kentucky border, it was placed here with prayerful care to be accessible and available to the greatest number of American pilgrims coming by road, presumably in surreys with fringes on top. Build it and they will come. November was the 150th anniversary of the publication of Charles Darwin’s On the Origin of Species—last February the 200th anniversary of the birth of its author—so now seems like a good time to see what the world looks like without the benefit of science. Or spectacles. Although both these anniversaries seemed to pass without ever troubling most Americans—there were precious few commemorations, TV specials, or pop-up books—it’s not that you don’t care about where you came from; it’s that our collective origin is a trip-wire issue, a knuckle-dragging skeleton in the closet. If you want to get through a class, a dinner, a long-haul flight in peace, it’s best not to go there. This is one argument that refuses to evolve.

I took Paul Bettany, the actor who plays Charles Darwin in the new film Creation, along with me to photograph the museum. He has played crazed and murderous apostates in films the devout ban themselves from seeing—in Legion, also out this month, Bettany stars as the archangel Michael, who defies a vengeful God hell-bent on destroying mankind. He once played a Wimbledon champion. Here in Nowheresville, Kentucky, tennis is considered a game for Europeans and other sexual deviants. I can’t imagine what they think of English actors.

Just off a motorway, in a barren and uninspiring piece of scrub, the museum is impressively incongruous, a righteously modernist building resting in landscaped gardens filled with dinosaur topiaries. It cost $27 million and was completed in 2007. It answers the famous question about what God could have done if he had had money. This is it. Oddly, it is a conspicuously and emphatically secular construction. There is no religious symbolism. No crosses. No stained glass. No spiral campanile. It has borrowed the empirical vernacular of the enemy to wrap the literal interpretation of Genesis in the façade of a liberal art gallery or library. It is the Lamb dressed in wolf’s clothing.

The next things I noticed were the very illiberally accoutred security guards. They are absurdly over-armed, overdressed, and overweight. Perhaps the museum is concerned that armed radical atheists, maddened by the voices of reason in their confused heads, will storm in waving the periodic table, screaming, “I think, therefore I am!”

Two museum residents.

The Creation Museum isn’t really a museum at all. It’s an argument. It’s not even an argument. It’s the ammunition for an argument. It is the Word made into bullets. An armory of righteous revisionism. This whole building is devoted to the literal veracity of the first 11 chapters of Genesis: God created the world in six days, and the whole thing is no more than 6,000 years old. Everything came at once, so Tyrannosaurus rex and Noah shared a cabin. That’s an awful lot of explaining to do. This place doesn’t just take on evolution—it squares off with geology, anthropology, paleontology, history, chemistry, astronomy, zoology, biology, and good taste. It directly and boldly contradicts most -onomies and all -ologies, including most theology.

We start with the creation of the world, and of light. And there you are, immediately—Houston, we have a problem: you get light three days before you get the sun. But that’s fine—we’ve got an answer: the sun is, in fact, what God made to keep the light in. It was an afterthought, a receptacle born out of necessity.

The early bits, it must be said, are rather boring, like walking past a lot of TVs showing nature programs, with the gravelly voice from trailers for disaster movies: “In a time before man … ” There’s a room that has all the stuff God made on each day; the exhibit looks like holiday photographs or the brochure for an eco-safari. Included with the birds of the air are, apparently, the bats, who are mammals and will be annoyed. But we don’t have time to nitpick. What is truly awe-inspiring about the museum is the task it sets itself: to rationalize a story, written 3,000 years ago, without allowing for any metaphoric or symbolic wiggle room. There’s no poetic license. This is a no-parable zone. It starts with the definitive answer, and all the questions have to be made to fit under it. That’s tough. Science has it a whole lot easier: It can change things. It can expand and hypothesize and tinker. Scientists have all this cool equipment and stuff. They’ve got all these “lenses” and things. They can see shit that’s invisible. And they stayed on at school past 14. Science has given itself millions of years, eons, to play with, but the righteous have got to get the whole lot in, home and dry, in less than 6,000 years, using just a pitchfork and a loud voice. It’s like playing speed chess against a computer and a thousand people with Nobel Prizes.

But we should cut the creationists a little slack, because every new bit of evidence, every discovery, is a nightmare for them. Take the ark. The big-boat business poses all sorts of questions. But, again, they’ve got answers. There are models and plans and layouts of the vessel. You can walk through a part of the hull. There’s biblical carpentry and weather reports. And the dinosaurs are on board. (They were probably small ones, the museum helpfully adds.) But recently scientists found a new giant rat and a fanged frog in Papua, New Guinea, so now some Noah-ists have to redesign the amphibian quarters. The rats probably sort themselves out. O.K., so you get everybody aboard, 10 million creatures, times two, without the neighbors’ noticing. Where did the water come from? You have to flood the whole world. Did they import water from the Scientologists? No: it came from underground. There is a great reservoir, presumably for flooding purposes, under our feet. I assume that’s where it went back to. Why don’t we drill for it to water Phoenix? (By the way, the flood is where we get fossils from. That’s all the dead stuff, caught in mud.) When the waters abated, the animals got off, stretched, and walked around the world eating one another’s children. I’m not making this up. Nobody’s making this up. This is what happened.

The Apostle Paul.

There is a bit of a sniffy disclaimer between the Flood and the Tower of Babel about Cain’s having to have sex with his sister: First of all, there’s a statute of limitations on this stuff, and it can be excused on some biblical technicality, and we shouldn’t be so prurient as to keep asking about it. The dinosaur thing, though, is a problem. Creationists didn’t have to bother about it before the 19th century, but nosy, faithless scientists—and Michael Crichton—have made them irrefutable. According to the museum, their extinction was caused by men killing them, possibly for sport. I will later learn that this may have happened in the Middle Ages, when dinosaurs breathed fire and were hunted by knights.

It all gets good when the leading man arrives. Adam comes on looking like the Hispanic bass player for a Janis Joplin backup band, with a lot of hair and a tan. He looks a bit stoned. As well he might be, because he’s all on his own in Eden. Nothing can do him any harm, and he’s got the whole pharmacopoeia at arm’s reach. And then you get to Eve, a demure, foxy little girl who could be Juliet in a Guatemalan school play. Her long hair is meticulously glued to her pert and perky breasts. Adam has his as yet unnecessary organ of generation decorously concealed behind foliage. There is something wincingly salacious about this bearded hippie and his schoolgirl mate. And he has what looks suspiciously like a belly button.

Two dummies take a swipe at secular curricula.

The most compelling evidence for the ineffably mysterious ways of God are the people who’ve come here to load up with ammunition for the constant and relentless argument with the free world. Here, it’s safe to say, no one is going to get flung into the fiery pit for overdosing on vanity, though they may get done in early for overdosing on carbs. There was an astonishing number of women dressed as if they’d come from the little house on the prairie, in long, floral frontier frocks with bonnets and shawls. Their men are in bibs and braces, with straw hats, authentic pudding-bowl haircuts, and Abe Lincoln beards. They stare at this Hispanic Adam with a touching reverence and a vengeful fury. This goddamned—and I use the word advisedly—dark-eyed wetback is the reason for all the sin and evil and Communism in the world. If it weren’t for him, we’d live forever. On the other hand, if he’d lived forever, we wouldn’t be here. (Just as an aside, a point of order, wasn’t it divinely unfair of God to say, “If you eat the fruit of the tree of knowledge, I will bring death unto you”? Death is a difficult if not impossible concept to explain to an illiterate man who has never seen anything die. And while we’re at it, if God planned on everything living forever, what was the point of heaven?) “This is the Garden of Eden,” a man with jelly-mold hair said to his little Tom Sawyer son. “Really?” replied the lad. “Really,” said the man.

The Garden of Eden is well worth the trip to Petersburg, Kentucky. Seeing as this museum is in the literal-truth business, this must be the literal Garden of Eden. This is exactly what it looked like. This is no simile, no mock-up, no artist’s impression. This is it. And it takes your breath away. Sharing the perfect rest stop with Adam is a whole mess of animals. There’s a worried-looking sheep, a fox, a chimp, a wallaby, a bear, a llama, a scarlet ibis, a fallow deer, an ibex, a cougar, a dinosaur, and a snake. It could be the diorama in a hunting-goods store. The animals aren’t doing much, just hanging out, waiting for something to happen. There’s nothing to do. No hunting, no mating, no nesting, no getting better, no getting worse. Just the infinite drip, drip, drip of bliss. Things that weren’t in the Garden of Eden at its planting but came later as part of the fruit-knowledge-shame-punishment plea bargain—poison weeds, carnivores, carrion eaters, fear, and thorns—are of great concern to creationists. A fossil with thorns is proof that it must have been made after the fall from Eden, because Genesis is quite specific about Eden’s being un-sharp and blunt, or, you might say, dull and pointless. I spent a lot of time in the Eden picnic area, trying to wrest some sort of spiritual buzz, a sense of the majesty and the mystery, but it’s conspicuously absent. Literally beaten to death. This is Ripley’s Believe-It. It is irredeemably kitsch. In fact, it may be the biggest collection of kitsch in God’s entire world. This is the profound represented by the banal, a divine irony. (The penchant for kitsch is something that gay men and born-again Christians share.) This tacky, risible, and rational tableau defies belief, beggars faith. Compare it to the creation story in Michelangelo’s Sistine Chapel, Masaccio’s expulsion from Eden, or any of the thousands of flickering images, icons, and installations based on faith rather than literalist realism. It truly makes you wonder, Is all this righteous ire, all this money, all this Pentecostal flame-throwing the best they can come up with? This cheap county-fair sideshow—this is their best shot? It may be more replete with proof than a Soviet show trial, but this creation is bereft of any soul.

Back in the entrance lobby, where we get our photographs taken in the Garden of Eden with the dinosaur and the ark (through the scientific miracle of lenses, computers, and green screen), one of the security guards smiles brightly at me. It’s about the first smile I’ve seen all day, and its warmth makes me smile back. I notice his embossed badge. His name is Adam.

Comments

[Sarah Thullbery]

I find it interesting that the building of the Creation Museum has no religious adornment, though it is clearly and literally following scripture in Genesis. I really wonder what the reasoning is. It wouldn't make sense if they are trying to trick people into thinking it is a secular museum, because the name of the museum alone has religious connotations.
I wish it seemed amazing and unbelievable that people would so clearly and blatantly ignore facts. But I can't because we see it all the time. The cycle of blind and uncritical faith that denies factual evidence is perpetuated. This is shown in this article in the father showing his son the "Garden of Eden". While with education and learning there is hope, I also realize that not everyone will become critical thinkers. It is sad that so many children have parents who tell them, in essence, not to think.

[quicktype89]

"There’s no poetic license. This is a no-parable zone. It starts with the definitive answer, and all the questions have to be made to fit under it. That’s tough."

I find this sentence to be hilarious, just as the rest of the article. The ridiculousness of the Creation Museum is astounding! I agree with Sarah when she says that she wishes that such situations where people do not allow themselves to think were not true and happening. You'd think- ha ha- that it was impossible for people to live in such a state that they don't question anything especially their religion. How can we not wonder what kind of poetic licensing Luke took when describing the birth of Jesus or ask questions when we see contradictions and inconsistencies in our own Holy book? A.A. Gill is right in saying "That's tough," because it's impossible to mold questions to "the answer" without denying historical facts and irrefutable scientific process. It's tough lying to yourself and trying to get others to follow the band wagon so they can live in ignorance too.

[Morgan]

This museum sounds like an interesting place to visit because the creation is such a tender topic with most people and I'm sure this museum's existence has made a lot of people upset. Making a creation museum would be very difficult especially because there are so many takes on how we were created. There are the biblical theories: the literal seven day creation story when God made a new thing each day or maybe the days were not meant to be taken literally and it took a lot longer to create the world and all of its beings. I like that the museum is from the biblical point of view because it gives people the creation story visibly instead of just reading it.

[Julie Jackson]

This Creation Museum is not a bad thing. I think that the people who have a big problem with it shouldn't go to it. I kind of think that a lot of people make big deals about things and only think their view of creation or religion is correct. I went to many museums in Washington this past year and everything was about evolution. We actually had to take pictures and do a project on it. The thing is that you don't see big articles about how that musuem supports evolution. Another thing is that it is its own museum so main majority of the people who will attend it will agree with how it says the earth was made. I just think how can a separate museum affect your life so much. It isn't making you go to it. Also I think it would be a good place for people to go to so they can see different views on how the earth was made.

[Larz]

I think the Creation Museum is a good idea. There are so many museums that support or promote evolution so I don't see the problem with one being about Creation. No one makes a big deal about the museums that support evolution, so why is there an issue over this. People don't have to believe it to go to it, in fact that don't have to believe it at all. Its just a good way for people to see the over side of things. Just like people who believe in creation, they have to learn about evolution in school. I think it is good for everyone to know about both sides of a story so that they can support their own side better.

[Brandon]

I agree with Larz, there are many scientific based museums out there, what is wrong with having one about Creation. I think this museum can help convert people to Christianity. No one has to go to the museum if they do not want to go. Also the article says something about there are no religous symbols outside the building. I do think the museum should have religous symbols because they are clearly representing the story of Genesis out of the bible. I think the reason they do not have any symbols is because they are trying to stay away from controversy. I like the thought of museums period because they teach people things through visualization. It is the same things we learn in church, except you get to see it in a museum.

[mgn]

This article is hilarious as it belittles this off the wall idea for a creationism museum. As I continued to read the descriptions of the figures appearances made me want to go visit this place just to see if it is really that odd.
My favorite part about this article is when it talks about how some people (those who work at this museum especially) say that mankind roamed the earth at the same time that dinosaurs. I mean how can anyone believe that man and dinosaurs coexisted, and on top of that man being victorious over them? In the article when it said: “according to the museum, their extinction was caused by men killing them, possible for sport.”
It’s like what Sarah people just don’t want to think. Instead they would rather believe in what everyone else is telling them instead of going out on their own and putting the pieces together based on their own discoveries.

[JohnEvans]

I wouldn't go so far as Larz in saying the creation museum is a good idea but I don't have a problem with it. If someone wants to go see what a literalist bible reading says thats there business. I personally won't go out of my way to see it but if I was in the area with some free time might meander in primarily for a laugh. I also believe it is kind of a stretch to call it a museum but as I can't think of a better word that one will have to do.

[cdavis17]

I agree with Sarah, that I find it odd that the creation museum has no religious adornment. Because that is what creationism is, is that a "higher being," usually GOD, is the one who makes these people and animals just like they are and there is no way that one species can evolve. I think that a place like this is good to have, I mean it can show the opposite side of evolution, and just show people what the creationists believe, in a odd wax people way. But I don't think that having one of these around is a totally bad idea, I mean we need representation of both sides of the argument to make our own assumptions.

[Tyler]

"The Creation Museum isn’t really a museum at all. It’s an argument. It’s not even an argument. It’s the ammunition for an argument."

If only people could see the incredible truth to this statement. Who funded the making of this museum? It sounds like it would be fun...but so is Chuck E. Cheese.

I don't think it's absurd though. I also don't think it is wrong to call it a museum...because it is based off the Bible. We don't look at the Bible and laugh at it, we just interpret it a different way. I think that is what needs to be done in this case.

[David Cook]

I do feel that it is slightly crazy to have a creationist museum, but I do not feel that there is anything immediately wrong with it. For the people that truly do believe in this interpretation of the origin of the world, then they surely have the freedom to spend their money making a museum for their beliefs.