Here, excerpted from The Collapse of Evolution by Dr. Scott M. Huse, is one of the many humorous examples in nature that make evolutionists look silly.
Did you ever notice how sometimes big surprises can come in little packages? Well, such is the case of the surprising little bombardier beetle. The bombardier beetle is a small insect that is armed with an impressive defense system. Whenever threatened by an enemy attack, this spirited little beetle blasts irritating and odious gases, which are at 212℉, out from two tailpipes right into the unfortunate face of the would-be aggressor.
Hermann Schildnecht, a German chemist, studied the bombardier beetle to find out how he accomplishes this impressive chemical feat. He learned that the beetle makes his explosive by mixing together two very dangerous chemicals (hydroquinone and hydrogen peroxide). In addition to these two chemicals, this clever little beetle adds another type of chemical known as an "inhibitor." The inhibitor prevents the chemicals from blowing up and enables the beetle to store the chemicals indefinitely.
Whenever the beetle is approached by a predator, such as a frog, he squirts the stored chemicals into the two combustion tubes, and at precisely the right moment he adds another chemical (an anti-inhibitor). This knocks out the inhibitor, and a violent explosion occurs right in the face of the poor attacker.
Could such a marvelous and complex mechanism have evolved piecemeal over millions of years? The evolutionist is forced to respond with a somewhat sheepish "yes," but a brief consideration of this viewpoint will reveal its preposterous nature.
According to evolutionary "thinking" there must have been thousands of generations of beetles improperly mixing these hazardous chemicals in fatal evolutionary experiments, blowing themselves to pieces. Eventually, we are assured, they arrived at the magic formula, but what about the development of the inhibitor? There is no need to evolve an inhibitor unless you already have the two chemicals you are trying to inhibit. On the other hand, if you already have the two chemicals without the inhibitor, it is already too late, for you have just blown yourself up. Obviously, such an arrangement would never arise apart from intelligent foresight and planning.
Nevertheless, let us assume that the little beetle somehow managed to simultaneously develop the two chemicals along with the all-important inhibitor. The resultant solution would offer no benefit at all to the beetle, for it would just sit there as a harmless concoction. To be of any value to the beetle, the anti-inhibitor must be added to the solution.
So, once again, for thousands of generations we are supposed to believe that these poor beetles mixed and stored these chemicals for no particular reason or advantage, until finally, the anti-inhibitor was perfected. Now he is really getting somewhere! With the anti-inhibitor developed he can now blow himself to pieces, frustrating the efforts of the hungry predator who wants to eat him. Ah, yes, he still needs to evolve the two combustion tubes, and a precision communications and timing network to control and adjust the critical direction and timing of the explosion. So, here we go again; for thousands of generations these carefree little beetles went around celebrating the 4th of July by blowing themselves to pieces until finally they mastered their newfound powers.
But what would be the motivation for such disastrous, trial and error, piecemeal evolution? Everything in evolution is supposed to be beneficial and have a logical purpose, or else it would never develop. But such a process does not make any sense, and to propose that the entire defense system evolved all at once is simply impossible. Yet, nature abounds with countless such examples of perfect coordination. Thus, we can only conclude that the surprising little bombardier beetle is a strong witness for special creation, for there is no other rational explanation for such a wonder.
The water beetle is also equipped with an impressive—although different—defense mechanism. He manages to escape his enemies by secreting a detergent substance from a gland. Ejecting the detergent accomplishes two things. Firstly, it serves to propel the beetle forward quickly so that he is out of the immediate danger. Secondly, the detergent causes the surface tension of the water to break down, and the pursuing insect sinks into the water. How true are the words of the psalmist who wrote: "O Lord, how manifold are thy works! In wisdom hast thou made them all: the earth is full of thy riches" (Ps. 104:24).