There are several theories of the origin of religion.

Initially, even prior to the modern age and the communication of knowledge in the world arena, the written forms of new mathematical develops can only be accessed by several locales.

One reason of disbelief in this theory that life originated on earth is a lack of time.

I suspect the heart-quickening now of sound and image is what drew the otherwise reclusive Marker to film. And by reclusive I don’t mean he was a poet and novelist with a promising literary career ahead of him—though he was, too, that kind of recluse, a writer, before he was anything else. Today, on the eve of his 90th birthday, Marker is still making films, yet less than a dozen photographs of the man exist. He avoids media, rarely gives interviews. When Marker appears in Agnes Varda’s video essay The Beaches of Agnes (2008), he does so in the guise of a talking cat. Filmmakers who let their work speak for itself, who hold their audience in high esteem, do exist. But they’re rare. And how like an essayist to refuse to explain his work. How like a poet to grant his audience a lasting measure of imaginative space.

Essay on Origin of Language - 1389 Words | Major Tests

Since the beginning of man’s reign on earth he has tried to explain his origins.

Early atmospheric conditions have been theorized to be present due to planetesimal collisions releasing gases present in the Earth, after the initial atmosphere of Hydrogen and Helium escaped Earth’s gravity assisted by heat energy.

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Because there are literally hundreds of theories on this subject which can be grouped in to three main categories and then in to various sub categories.

Essay on the Origin of Languages | Stockerblog

Chris Marker grew up in Neuilly, on the posh rim of the Bois de Bologne outside Paris. Probably he read Montaigne as a boy—not from any precocity we know of, but rather because French kids read their Montaigne, just as they memorize the poems of Hugo and La Fontaine. After World War II, in which he fought for the resistance, he published a collection of poetry and, in 1949, his first novel. Then, like so many other writers and critics seduced by the French New Wave—Godard, Rohmer, Truffaut—Marker turned to celluloid, and so, for that matter, did the rest of the world.

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Alongside Jean Cayrol, Marker wrote uncredited for Alain Resnais’s Night and Fog (1955), a film essay about the Holocaust, a work that welds haunting visuals (and a color scheme Spielberg later cribbed for Schindler’s List) to a refreshingly human voiceover. In a brilliant essay he wrote for Threepenny Review, Phillip Lopate describes that voiceover as worldly, tired, weighted down with the need to make fresh those horrors that had so quickly turned stale. It was a self-interrogatory voice, like a true essayist’s, dubious, ironical, wheeling and searching for the heart of its subject matter. That voice, I suspect, is Marker’s. And it’s the lone voice, decidedly unobjective, that resides at the heart of the visual essay. Or film essay. Or video essay.