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Open letter to science editors
Vol. 1, No. 4
Giants in the Earth
By Ted Holden
Most of the evidence being presented in support of the Saturn Myth concept
is either historical and heavily dependent upon interpretations of
mythological and classical themes, or of a highly theoretical nature (e.g.
Lynn E. Rose's explanation for the Tethys Sea). Do we have any more
concrete evidence, any real way of knowing or of proving that the Saturn
Myth scenario is actually required for any of the physical evidence of past
ages? I believe that we do, that a careful study of the sizes of
antediluvian creatures and of what it would take to deal with such sizes in
our world--the felt effect of gravity being what it is now--indicates that
something was massively different in the world which these creatures
inhabited. I believe that something like the Saturn Myth is positively
required to explain what turns up upon such a careful investigation and that
there are, at least, four categories of evidence which suggest that the
super animals of Earth's past could not live in our present world at all,
due to what must have been a change in perceived gravity.
A look at sauropod dinosaurs as we know them today requires that we relegate
the brontosaur, once thought to be one of the largest sauropods, to
welterweight or, at most, middleweight status. Fossil finds dating from the
1970s dwarf him. The Field Guide to Dinosaurs. The First Complete Guide
to Every Dinosaur Now Known shows a brachiosaur (larger than a
brontosaur), a supersaur and an ultrasaur juxtaposed, and the ultrasaur dwarfs the others.
Christopher McGowan's Dinosaurs, Spitfires, & Sea Dragons cites a
180-ton weight estimate for the ultrasaur,
and describes the volume-based methods of estimating dinosaur weights.
McGowan is Curator of Vertebrate Paleontology at the Royal Ontario Museum.
This same look requires that dinosaur lifting requirements be compared to
human lifting capabilities. One objection which might be raised to this
would be that animal muscle tissue was somehow "better" than that of
humans. This, however, is known to not be the case; for instance, in
Scaling: Why is Animal Size So Important Knut Schmidt-Nielsen says
It appears that the maximum force or stress that can be exerted by any
muscle is inherent in the structure of the muscle filaments. The
maximum force is roughly a 3 [kgf/ cm2 (kilograms of force
per centimeter squared)] to 4 kgf/ cm2 cross-section of
muscle (300 [kN/ m2 (kiloNewtons per meter squared) to] 400
kN/ m2). This force is body-size independent and is the same
for mouse and elephant muscle. The reason for this uniformity is that
the dimensions of the thick and thin muscle filaments, and also the
number of cross-bridges between them are the same. In fact, the
structures of mouse muscle and elephant muscle [are] so similar that a
microscopist would have difficulty identifying them except for a larger
number of mitochondria in the smaller animal. This uniformity in
maximum force holds not only for higher vertebrates, but for many other
organisms, including at least some, but not all invertebrates.
Another objection might be that sauropods were aquatic creatures.
Nobody believes that anymore; they had no adaptation for aquatic life,
their teeth show wear and tear which does not come from eating soft
aquatic vegetation, and trackways show them walking on land with no
A final objection would be that dinosaurs were somehow more "efficient"
than top human athletes. This, however, goes against all observed
data. As creatures get bulkier, they become less efficient; the layers
of thick muscle in limbs begin to get in each other's way and bind to
some extent. For this reason, scaled lifts (a lift record divided by
the two-thirds power of the athlete's body weight) for the
super-heavyweight athletes are somewhat lower than for, say, the
As creatures get larger, weight, which is proportional to volume, goes
up in proportion to the cube of the increase in dimension. Strength,
however, is known to be roughly proportional to the cross-section of
muscle for any particular limb, which is similar to
πr2, and goes up in proportion to the square of the
increase in dimension. This is the familiar "square-cube" problem. The
normal inverse operator for this is to divide by the 2/3 power of body
weight; this is the normal scaling factor for all weight-lifting events,
i. e., it lets us tell if a 200-pound athlete has actually done a
"better" lift than the champion of the 180-pound group. For athletes
weighing between 160 pounds and 220 pounds, i. e., whose bodies are
fairly similar, these scaled lift numbers line up very nicely. A lift
for a scaled up version of one particular athlete can be computed via
this formula, since the similarity will be perfect, scaling being the
Consider the case of Bill Kazmaier, the king of the power lifters in the
1970s and 1980s. Power lifters are, in my estimation, the strongest of
all athletes; they concentrate on the three most difficult total-body
lifts, i. e., benchpress, squat, and deadlift. They work out many hours
a day and use anabolic steroids to flavor their foods. No animal the
same weight as one of these men could be presumed to be as strong.
Kazmaier was able to do squats and deadlifts with weights between 1,000
pounds and 1,100 pounds on a bar, assuming he was fully warmed up.
STANDING UP AT 70,000 POUNDS
The first of the four categories of evidence mentioned above is that any
animal has to be able to lift its own weight off the ground, i. e.,
stand up, with no more difficulty than Kazmaier experiences doing a
1,000-pound squat. Consider, however, what would happen to Mr. Kazmaier
if he were scaled up to 70,000 pounds, the weight commonly given for the
brontosaur. Kazmaier's maximum effort at standing, fully warmed up,
assuming the 1,000-pound squat, was 1,340 pounds (1,000 pounds for the
bar and 340 pounds for himself). The scaled maximum lift would be the
solution to 1,340/ 340.667 = x/ 70,000.667,
where x=47,558 pounds. He would not be able to lift his weight off the ground!
A sauropod dinosaur had four legs. What happens if Mr. Kazmaier uses
arms and legs at 70,000 pounds? The squat uses almost every
muscle in the athlete's body very nearly to the limits, but, in this
case, it does not matter. A near maximum benchpress effort for Mr.
Kazmaier would be close to 600 pounds. This merely changes the 1,340
pounds to 1,940 pounds in the equation above, and the answer comes out
as 68,853 pounds. Even using all muscles, some more than once, the
strongest man we know anything about would not be able to lift his own
weight off the ground at 70,000 pounds!
To believe, then, that a brontosaur could stand at 70,000 pounds, one
has to believe that a creature whose weight was mostly gut plus the vast
digestive mechanism involved in processing huge amounts of low-value
foodstuffs was, somehow, stronger than an almost entirely muscular
creature its size, far better trained and conditioned than any grazing
animals. That is not only ludicrous in the case of the brontosaur, but
the calculations only get more confusing when you begin trying to scale
upwards to the supersaur and ultrasaur, at their sizes.
How heavy can an animal still get to be in our world, then? How heavy
would Mr. Kazmaier be at the point at which the square-cube problem made
it as difficult for him to stand up as it is for him to do 1,000-pound
squats at his present weight of 340 pounds? The answer lies in the
solution to 1,340/ 340.667 = x/ x.667, or (using
Newton's process) 20,803 pounds. In reality, elephants do not appear to
get quite to that point. McGowan claims that a Toronto Zoo specimen was
the largest in North America at 14,300 pounds
and Smithsonian personnel once informed me that the gigantic bush
elephant specimen which appears at their Museum of Natural History
weighed around 8 tons.
SAUROPOD DINOSAURS' NECKS
A second category of evidence arises from the study of the necks of
sauropod dinosaurs. Scientists who study sauropod dinosaurs are now
claiming that they held their heads low, because they could not have
gotten blood to their brains had they held them high. McGowan goes into
this in detail. He mentions that a giraffe's blood pressure, at 200 mm
Hg (millimeters of mercury) to 300 mm Hg, far higher than that of any
other animal, would probably rupture the vascular system of any other
animal and is maintained by thick arterial walls and by a very tight
skin which apparently acts like a jet pilot's pressure suit. A
giraffe's head might reach to 20 feet.
The real question is how a sauropod might have gotten blood to its brain
at 50 feet or 60 feet.
Two articles mentioning this problem appeared in Natural History.
In the first article, Harvey B. Lillywhite notes that
in a Barosaurus with its head held high, the heart had to work
against a gravitational pressure of about 590 [millimeters of mercury].
In order for the heart to eject blood into the arteries of the neck, its
pressure must exceed that of the blood pushing against the opposite side
of the outflow valve. Moreover, some additional pressure would have
been needed to overcome the resistance of smaller vessels within the
head for blood flow to meet the requirements for brain and facial
tissues. Therefore, [Baurosaurus hearts] must have generated
pressures at least six times greater than those of humans and three to
four times greater than those of giraffes.
In the same issue, Peter Dodson mentions that Brachiosaurus was built like a giraffe and may have fed like one. But
most sauropods were built quite differently. At the base of the neck, a
sauropod's vertebral spines, unlike those of a giraffe, were weak and
low and did not provide leverage for the muscles required to elevate the
head in a high position. Furthermore, the blood pressure required to
pump blood up to the brain, [30 feet] or more ... in the air, would have
placed extraordinary demands on the heart ... and would, seemingly, have
placed the animal at severe risk of a stroke, an aneurism, or some other
circulatory disaster. If sauropods fed with the neck extended just a
little above heart level, say from ground level up to  feet, the
blood pressure required would have been far more reasonable.
Dodson is neglecting what appears to be a dilemma in the case of the
brachiosaur, but there are at least two greater dilemmas here. One is
that the good leaves were, in all likelihood, above the 20-foot mark;
holding his head out at 20 feet, an ultrasaur would probably starve.
The other is that sauropods would be unable to hold their heads out
The volume-based techniques which McGowan and others use can estimate
weight for a sauropod's neck, given a scale model and a weight figure
for the entire dinosaur. An ultrasaur is generally thought to be a near
cousin of the brachiosaur, if not a very large brachiosaur specimen.
The technique, then is to measure the volume of water which the
sauropod's neck (severed at the shoulders and filled with bondo
(auto-body putty)) displaces versus the volume which the entire
brachiosaur displaces and extrapolate to the 360,000-pound figure for
the ultrasaur. I did this using a Larami Corporation model of a
brachiosaur which is to scale. The neck, from its center to the
shoulders, weighs 28,656 pounds, and the center of gravity of that neck
is 15 feet, from the shoulders forward, the neck itself being 38 feet
long. This equates to 429,850 foot-pounds of torque.
Assume that any living creature has to be able to lift its head at least
as easily as a human with 17-inch biceps does one-armed curls with a
60-pound dumbbell. The working assumption is that a cross-section of
arm is proportional to torque. Simple calculations, assuming the human
arm to be circular, show that the human requires an arm 35 feet in
diameter to deal with 430,000 foot-pounds of torque. The ultrasaur's
neck, at the very widest point, where it joined the shoulders, appears
to have been close to 10 feet by 6 feet, and it would be generous to
assume a 6-foot diameter (for strength calculations) throughout.
Strength being proportional to the square of the radius, we see that the
sauropod could not have had the musculature to deal with his own neck
due to a ratio of 32 to 17.52, or about 34 to one.
McGowan and others claim that the head and neck were supported by a
dorsal ligament and not by muscles, but real-life experience does not
show us any example of a living creature using ligaments to support a
body structure which its available musculature could not sustain at a
ratio of 34 to one.
And so, sauropods (in our gravity) could neither hold their heads up nor
ANTEDILUVIAN FLYING CREATURES
A third category of evidence arises from studies of creatures which flew
in antediluvian times and of creatures which fly now.
In the antediluvian world, 350-pound flying creatures soared in skies
which no longer permit flying creatures above 30 pounds or so. Modern
birds of prey (the Argentinean teratorn) weighing between 170 pounds and
200 pounds, with 30-foot wingspans, also flew. Within recorded history,
Central Asians have been trying to breed hunting eagles for size and
strength, not getting them beyond 25 pounds or so. At that point, they
are able to take off only with the greatest of difficulty. Something
was vastly different in the pre-flood world.
Nothing much larger than 30 pounds or so flies
anymore, and those creatures, albatrosses and a few of the largest
condors and eagles, are marginal. Albatrosses are called "goonie birds"
by sailors because of the extreme difficulty they experience taking off
and landing, their landings being badly controlled crashes--and this
despite long wings made for maximum lift.
In remote times, a lesser gravitational effect was felt on Earth and
only this allowed such giant creatures to fly. No flying creature has
since re-evolved into anything akin to a former size, and the one
or two birds which have retained such sizes have forfeited flight, their
wings becoming vestigial.
A book of interest here is Adrian Desmond's The Hot-Blooded
Dinosaurs. Desmond has much to say about the Pteranodon,
the 40-pound to 50-pound pterosaur which scientists used to believe was
the largest creature to ever fly:
Pteranodon had lost its teeth, tail and some flight musculature, and its
rear legs had become spindly. It was, however, in the actual bones that
the greatest reduction of weight was achieved. The wing bones, backbone
and hind limbs were tubular, like the supporting struts of an aircraft,
which allows for strength yet cuts down on weight. In Pteranodon
these bones, although up to an inch in diameter, were no more than
cylindrical air spaces bounded by an outer bony casing no thicker than a
piece of card[board?]. Barnum Brown, of the American Museum, reported
an arm bone fragment of an unknown species of pterosaur from the Upper
Cretaceous of Texas in which "the culmination of the pterosaur ... the
acme of light construction" was achieved. Here, the trend had continued
so far that the bone wall of the cylinder was an unbelievable
one-fiftieth of an inch thick. Inside the tubes, bony, crosswise struts
no thicker than pins helped to strengthen the structure, another
innovation in aircraft design anticipated by the Mezosozoic pterosaurs.
The combination of great size and negligible weight must, necessarily,
have resulted in some fragility. It is easy to imagine that the
paper-thin, tubular bones supporting the gigantic wings would have made
landing dangerous. How could the creature have alighted without
shattering all of its bones? How could it have taken off in the first
place? It was obviously unable to flap -foot wings strung between
straw-thin tubes. Many larger birds have to achieve a certain speed by
running and flapping before they can take off, and others have to
produce a wing beat speed approaching hovering in order to rise. To
achieve hovering with a 123-foot] wingspread, Pteranodon would
have required 220 [pounds] of flight muscles as efficient as those in
humming birds. But it had reduced its musculature to about 8 [pounds],
so it is inconceivable that Pteranodon could have taken off
Pteranodon, then, was not a flapping creature; it had neither the
muscles nor the resistance to the resulting stress. Its long, thin,
albatross-like wings betray it as a glider, the most advanced glider the
animal kingdom has produced. With a weight of only 40 [pounds] the wing
loading was only1[pound] per square foot. This gave it a slower sinking
speed than even a man-made glider, where the wings have to sustain a
weight of at least 4 [pounds] per square foot. The ratio of wing area
to total weight, in Pteranodon, is only surpassed in some of the
insects. Pteranodon was constructed as a glider, with the
breastbone, shoulder girdle and backbone welded into a box-like, rigid
fuselage, able to absorb the strain from the giant wings. The low
weight combined with an enormous wing span meant that Pteranodon
could glide at ultra-low speeds without fear of stalling. Cherrie
Bramwell of Reading University has calculated that it could remain aloft
at only 15 [miles per hour]. So take-off would have been relatively
easy. All Pteranodon needed was a breeze of 15 [miles per hour]
when it would face the wind, stretch its wings and be lifted into the
air like a piece of paper. No effort at all would have been required.
Again, if it was forced to land on the sea, it had only to extend its
wings to catch the wind in order to raise itself gently out of the
It seems strange that an animal that had gone to such great lengths to
reduce its weight to a minimum should have evolved an elongated bony
crest on its skull.
Desmond has mentioned some of the problems which the Pleranodon
faced at 50 pounds or so: no possibility of flapping the wings, for
instance. The more recent giant Pterotorn finds of Argentina
were not known when the book was written. They came out in the 1980s,
in issues of Science and in other places. The Pterotorn
was an eagle weighing between 160 pounds and 200 pounds, with a 27-foot
wingspan, a modern bird whose existence involved, among other things,
flapping wings and aerial maneuver. Based on the above, it could not
have flown. How does one explain this?
Also, he notes a fairly reasonably modus operandi for the Pteranodon:
It had a throat pouch like a pelican and has been found with fish
fossils indicating a pelican-like existence (soaring over the waves and
snapping up fish without landing).
That should indicate that, peculiarly amongst all Earth creatures, the
Pteranodon should have been immune from the great
extinctions of past ages. In Earth in Upheaval, Velikovsky noted
that large animals had the greatest difficulty getting to high ground
and other safe havens at the times of floods and the global catastrophes
of past ages and were, therefore, peculiarly susceptible to extinction.
Men and animals would hide on mountain tops, but most would die from
lack of food during the bard year following. But high places safe from
flooding, oceans and fish were accessible. Taking only these
considerations into account, the Pteranodon's way of life would
have been impervious to all mishap; the notion that Pleranodon
died out when the effect of gravity felt on Earth changed after the
flood is a very credible explanation.
Problems which Desmond does not mention include the fact that
life for a pure glider would almost be impossible in the real world and
that some limited flying ability would be necessary for any aerial
creature. Living totally at the mercy of the winds, a creature might
never get back home to its nest and offspring given the first contrary
Desmond continues his discussion about the size of pterosaurs:
It would be a grave understatement to say that, as a flying creature,
Pteranodon was large. Indeed, there were sound reasons for
believing that it was the largest animal that ever could become
airborne. With each increase in [both size and] weight, a flying animal
needs a concomitant increase in power (to beat the wings in a flapper
and to hold and maneuver them in a glider), but power is supplied by
muscles which themselves add still more weight to the structure. The
larger a flier becomes the disproportionately weightier it grows by the
addition of its own power supply. There comes a point when the weight
is just too great to permit the machine to remain airborne.
Calculations bearing on size and power suggested that the maximum weight
that a flying vertebrate [could] attain [was] about 50 pounds:
Pteranodon and its slightly larger, but lesser known, Jordanian
ally, Titanopteryx were, therefore, thought to be the largest
The calculations mentioned above say that about 50 pounds is the maximum
weight for either a flier or a glider and that experience from our
present world coincides with this, having the largest flying creatures
weigh in at less than 50 pounds. The largest flying creatures which we
actually see are albatrosses, geese and the like at 30 pounds to 35
pounds. Similarly, my calculations say that the largest, theoretically
possible, land animal in our present world would weigh 20,803 pounds and
the bush elephant I have mentioned weighed 16,000 pounds.
[I]n 1972, the first of a spectacular series of finds suggested that we
must drastically rethink our ideas on the maximum size permissible in
flying vertebrates. Although excavations are still in progress, three
seasons' digging-- from 1972 to 1974--by Douglas A. Lawson of the
University of California has revealed partial skeletons of three
ultra-large pterosaurs in the Big Bend National Park in Brewster County,
Texas. These skeletons indicate creatures that must have dwarfed even
Pteranodon. Lawson found the remains of four wings, a long neck,
hind legs and toothless jaws in deposits that were non-marine; the
ancient entombing sediments are thought to have been made instead by
floodplain silting. The immense size of the Big Bend pterosaurs, which
have already become known affectionately in the paleontological world
as "747s" or "Jumbos," may be gauged by setting one of the Texas upper
arm bones alongside that of a Pteranodon: the "Jumbo" humerus is
fully twice the length of Pteranodon's. Lawson's
computer-estimated wingspan for this living glider is over  feet.
It is no surprise, says Lawson, announcing the animal in Science
in 1975, that the definitive remains of this creature were found in
Unlike Pteranodon, these creatures were found in rocks that were
formed 250 miles inland of the Cretaceous coastline. The lack of ..
lake deposits in the vicinity militates against these particular
pterosaurs having been fishers. Lawson suggests that they were carrion
feeders, gorging themselves on the rotting mounds of flesh left after
the dismembering of a dinosaur carcass. Perhaps, like vultures and
condors, these pterosaurs hung in the air over the corpse waiting their
turn. Having alighted on the carcass, their toothless beaks would have
restricted them to feeding upon the soft, pulpy internal organs. How
they could have taken to the air after gorging themselves is something
of a puzzle. Wings of such an extraordinary size could not have been
flapped when the animal was grounded. Since the pterosaurs were unable
to run in order to launch themselves, they must have taken off
vertically. Pigeons are only able to take off vertically by reclining
their bodies and clapping the wings in front of them; as flappers, the
Texas pterosaurs would have needed very tall, stilt-like legs to raise
the body enough to allow the 24-foot wings to clear the ground. The
main objection, however, still rests in the lack of adequate musculature
for such an operation. Is the only solution to suppose that, with wings
fully extended and elevators raised, they were lifted passively off the
ground by the wind? If Lawson is correct and the Texas pterosaurs were
carrion feeders, another problem can be envisaged. Dinosaur carcasses
imply the presence of dinosaurs. The ungainly Brobdignagian pterosaurs
were vulnerable to attack when grounded, so how did they escape the
formidable dinosaurs? Left at the mercy of wind currents, takeoff
would have been a chancy business. Lawson's exotic pterosaurs raise
some intriguing questions. Only continued research will provide the
Note that Desmond mentions a number of ancillary problems, any of which
would throw doubt on the pterosaur's ability to exist as mentioned, and
neglects the biggest problem of all: the calculations which say that 50
pounds are the maximum weight have not been shown to be in error; we
have simply discovered larger creatures. Much larger. This is a
Discussing the Texas pterosaurs, Robert T. Bakker says:
Immediately after their paper came out in Science, Wann Langston
and his students were attacked by aeronautical engineers who simply
could not believe that the Big Bend dragon had a wingspan of [401 feet
or more. Such dimensions broke all the rules of flight engineering; a
creature that large would have broken its arm bones if it tried to fly
.... Under this hail of disbelief, Langston and his crew backed off
somewhat. Since the complete wing bones hadn't been discovered, it was
possible to reconstruct the Big Bend Pterodactyl [pterosaur] with wings
much shorter than  feet.
The original reconstruction had put the wingspan for the pterosaur at
over 60 feet. Bakker goes on to say that he believes the pterosaurs
really were that big and that they flew--despite our not comprehending
how; i. e., that the problem is ours. He does not give a solution as to
what we are looking at incorrectly.
So much for the idea of anything re-evolving into the sizes of
flying creatures of the antediluvian world. What about the possibility
of man breeding something like a Pteratorn? Could man
actively breed even a 50-pound eagle?
David Bruce's Bird of Jove describes the adventures of Sam
Barnes, one of England's top falconers, who took a Berkut eagle from
Kirgiz, Russia, and to his home in Pwilheli, Wales.
Berkuts are the biggest eagles, and Atlanta, the one Barnes brought
back, at 26 pounds in flying trim, is believed to be as large as they
ever get. Having been bred specifically for size and ferocity for many
centuries, they are the most prized of all possessions amongst nomads
and are the imperial hunting bird of the Turko-Mongol peoples.
The eagle Barnes took to Wales with him had a disease for which no cure
was available in Kirgiz, and was near to death at the time. Had this
not been the case, Barnes would not have been able to keep her, given
the bird's value. A Berkut of Atlanta's size was valued as worth more
than a dozen of the most beautiful women in Turgiz.
The killing powers of a big eagle are out of proportion to its size.
Berkuts like Atlanta fly at wolves, deer and other large prey. Mongols
and other nomads raise sheep and goats, having no love for wolves. A
wolf might be little more than a day at the office for Atlanta, with her
11-inch talons; however, a wolf is a major-league challenge for an
average-sized Berkut weighing from 15 pounds to 20 pounds. Obviously,
there would be an advantage to having the birds be bigger, i. e., to
having the average Berkut weigh 25 pounds and for a large one to weigh
40 pounds or 50 pounds.
Ghengis Khan and other falconers wanted these birds to be large, since they
flew them at everything from wolves and deer (a big Berkut like Atlanta can
hook its talons around a wolf's spine and snap it) to leopards and tigers,
and there was no lack of funds for the breeding program involved.
The breeding of Berkuts has continued apace from that day to this; however,
the Berkuts have not gotten heavier than 25 pounds or so.
Remember Desmond's words regarding the difficulty which increasingly larger
birds will experience getting airborne from flat ground? Atlanta was
powerful in flight, but she could not take off easily from flat ground.
This could mean disaster in the wild. A bird of prey will often land on the
ground with prey, and if take-off from flat ground to avoid trouble is not
possible, that puts the bird's own life in peril. Barnes learned how
important it was to have the Berkut in captivity for certain periods and
nesting wild at other times. A bird bigger than Atlanta would not survive
the other times.
This is specially true with one variety of Pteratorn, judging from
pictures which have appeared in Science, was of a scaled-up golden
eagle weighing 170 pounds or so, with a wingspan of 27 feet, as compared to
Atlanta's 10-foot wingspan. In our present world, a bird that big would not
PREDATORS TOO LARGE TO SUSTAIN FALLS
A fourth category of evidence derives from a careful analysis of
antediluvian predators. It is well known that elephant-sized animals cannot
sustain falls and that elephants spend their entire lives avoiding them.
For an elephant, the slightest tumble can break bones or destroy enough
tissue to prove fatal. Predators, however, live by tackling and tumbling
with prey. One might think that this consideration would preclude the
existence of any predator too large to sustain falls; weight estimates for
the tyrannosaurs, however, include specimens heavier than any elephant.
That appears to be a contradiction.
The January, 1993, issue of Discover carries a picture of the
Utahraptor, a 20 foot, 1,500-pound version of a Velociraptor,
recently found in Utah.
The creature apparently ran on the balls of its two hind feet, on two toes,
with the third toe carrying a 12-inch claw for disemboweling prey. This
indicates a very active lifestyle. Very few predators appear to be built
for attacking prey notably larger than themselves; the Utahraptor
appears to be such a case.
In our world, of course, 1,500-pound toe dancers do not exist. The only
example we have of a 1,500-pound land predator is the Kodiak bear, the
lumbering gait and mannerisms of which are familiar to us all. And so, over
and over again, we encounter this same kind of dilemma, things which cannot
happen in our world having been the norm in the antediluvian world. The
Saturn Myth and attenuated perceived gravity are the only explanations which
David Lambert and the Diagram Group Staff, Field Guide to
Dinosaurs.- The First Complete Guide to Every Dinosaur Now Known
(New York, 1983), p. 118.
Christopher McGowan, Dinosaurs, Spitfires & Sea Dragons
(Cambridge, Massachusetts, 1991), p. 118.
Ibid., p. 104.
Knut Schmidt-Nielsen, Scaling: Why Is Animal Size So Important?
(Cambridge, Massachusetts, 1984), p. 163.
McGowan, op. cit., p. 97.
Harvey B. Lillywhite, 'Sauropods and Gravity," Natural History
(December, 1991): 33.
Peter Dodson, 'Lifestyles of the Huge and Famous," Natural
History (December, 1991): 32.
Adrian J. Desmond, The Hot-Blooded Dinosaurs: A Revolution in
Paleontology (New York, 1976), p. 178.
Ibid., pp. 180-181.
Immanuel Velikovsky, Earth in Upheaval (New York, 1955), pp.
Desmond, op. cit., p. 182.
Ibid., pp. 182-183
Robert T. Bakker, The Dinosaur Heresies (New York, 1986), pp.
David Bruce, Bird of Jove (New York, 1971).
Tim Folger, "The Killing Machine," Discover (January, 1993):