If you've ever had that classic reflexion about the possible origin of stuff and people, you’ll know that there is only one tale – the tale of two miracles.
One of them is that alleged miracle that supposedly comes from no one special, is scientifically bound for nowhere and leads via something absurdly amazing to flat nothing at absolute zero.
Its proponents, who are on the whole intelligent and educated people, tell us to believe that their miracle is matter-driven and thus meaningless, purposeless and person-less. They argue that to talk of any other kind of miracle, say - a senseful one, does not make any sense.
Those who preach this miracle are, on the whole good-natured and well-intentioned folks, but they must realise - they are intelligent, remember? - that being good-natured, well-intentioned, and all else to be precise, does not matter a jot and they might just as well go fuck - philosophically - themselves, as in the long run (and there's nothing but the long run, in the long run) it won't make any difference whatsoever.
What's important is that at the moment their miracle is called by most reviewers ‘scientific’, ‘Enlightened’, ‘progressive’, generally ‘up-to-date’ and ‘state-of-the-tale-telling-art’ and it's the Academian Established Church... sorry: Miracle - contrary to the other one.
No wonder then that the part of the tale about this miracle gets published more often and the other one, like many of Andersen's stories, lies neglected somewhere on an old dusty shelf.
However, some critics have pointed out that as children grow, they tend to find that part of the tale boring and depressing, so they begin to ask about the book with the other miracle, the one Daddy laughed off.
