The Robertson furor brings to mind a haunting image.
A man hiking over a vast desert is struck by a sandstorm. His eyes sting from the eyelid-penetrating grains. He jerks his bandana from around his neck, and ties it over his eyes. He leaves one tiny sliver open at the bottom so he can see at least the ground he's walking upon.
The wind howls nonstop. He trudges on like this for hours. His limited view makes him ignorant of the fact he's been slowly ascending a mountain, and is approaching a cliff-edge at the bottom of which is an abyss.
The flat ground near the rim is occupied by two religious parties. As the blindfolded man approaches they spy him through the whirling tempest of sand and began doing what religious parties tend to do: debate.