The
headline of this article is a typical defense offered to "prove"
researchers actually discovered a new pandemic virus, SARS-CoV-2.
It's laughable.
They
have the genetic sequence of the virus? Well, where did they get it?
From the man in the moon? An old 10,000-dollar bill in Bill Gates'
wallet?
You need a pure specimen of the virus to start with, if you want to make sure you're fleshing out its genetic sequence.
A
piece of RNA, as a starting sample, doesn't work. It's somewhere
between a random shot in the dark and a preconceived notion.
Let's
say, instead of a purified and isolated virus, separated from all
surrounding material, we're talking about a gun used in a crime. At
trial, a lab technician from the vaunted FBI lab is testifying.
Defense Attorney: So you're sure the gun was recovered from my client's car?
FBI tech: Absolutely.
Defense Attorney: Please explain how you located the gun.
FBI tech: It was in the junkyard.
Defense Attorney: Excuse me?
FBI
tech: Well, you see, the defendant's car was in an auto junkyard, along
with about a thousand other cars. His car wasn't actually in one
piece. It had been taken apart. And then there was the dog.
Defense Attorney: The dog?
FBI
tech: The watch dog. He roams over the whole junkyard. He picks up
objects in his mouth and runs around with them. We found his saliva on
the gun.
Defense Attorney: The gun used in the crime.
FBI
tech: As far as we know. The weapon was pretty banged up. Apparently,
it had been in a car that was crushed in one of those machines.
Defense Attorney: I see. Did you actually discover DNA from my client on the gun?
FBI
tech: Yes. Well, I mean, we found human DNA on the gun. The sample
was mixed with other DNA from an unknown source. It was difficult to
separate the two samples from each other.
Defense Attorney: How difficult?
FBI
tech: Isolation wasn't possible. We couldn't make a positive ID. But
we did find a tiny piece of red thread on the gun. We determined it
came from a shirt.
Defense Attorney: My client doesn't own a red shirt.
FBI tech: He might have discarded a red shirt. And he does own shirts. Generally speaking.
At this point, the judge leans over and says to the FBI lab tech, "Are you drunk?"
FBI tech: Certainly not, Your Honor. I might have had a few drinks with lunch. I sometimes do.
So much for isolation of the gun.
Or the virus.
Intelligent
researchers, where they exist, do talk about isolation and purification
of a new virus from surrounding material. And if they understand what
those two terms mean, they know how important this process is.
It's
the difference between saying WE HAVE DIRECT EVIDENCE OF THE VIRUS and
WE HAVE SOME STUFF THAT MIGHT CONTAIN A VIRUS IF WE'RE LUCKY.
In
past articles, I've detailed how large coherent studies should be done
(but aren't), using electron microscopy, to determine a) whether or not a
new virus has been discovered, and b) how probable it is that the
virus, if it exists, is causing harm to some people (whose immune
systems are already compromised).
Nothing is riding on all this
except the immediate future of the human race---since political leaders
have decided to destroy untold numbers of jobs, businesses, and lives,
all based on a story about a new pandemic virus.
Talk about a
sell-job. They don't have to isolate the virus because they've found
its genetic sequence. That's called putting the cart before the horse.
Based
on this reasoning, I believe I could say I've discovered a thousand
viruses in my cellar. I have "their genetic sequences." Meaning: I've
found sequences from who-knows-what listed in old public reports.
In
elementary logic, students are taught that inferences flow from prior
premises and propositions and simple rules. If you erase those premises
and propositions and rules, you have nothing. You have conclusions
whose basis is missing.
The statement, "We have the genetic
sequence," is meant to hypnotize the uninformed, who have been trained
to salute any claim which refers to genes, as if they're magic.
For
example, there was a period during which researchers tried to pass off
the idea, "one disease, one gene is the cause." Eventually, they were
forced to admit this notion didn't fly. It was a simpleton's fantasy.
They then retreated and concocted a different hypothesis: any given
disease was caused by a collection of genes, acting in concert. This
soupy assertion had the advantage of vagueness; it was hyped as a moving
target. If one collection of genes didn't work (and it inevitably
didn't), researchers, with a straight face, could say the cause must be
another collection.
Junkyard science.
"We might have found
something that resembled a gun near a piece of what was once someone's
car, in a location filled with tens of thousands of pieces of cars. And
there was a dog."
Brilliant precision.
"We've narrowed down the search for the killer, Chief. There's a twelve-percent chance he was in New York last Thursday."
"How many people were in New York last Thursday?"
"About seven million."
"Keep going. You're getting somewhere." |
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