Key Passage: “He that answereth a matter before he heareth it, it is folly and shame unto him.” — Proverbs 18:13
There is nothing wrong with criticism. A Bible teacher who cannot tolerate having his conclusions examined ought to close his Bible, put away his pen, and find another occupation. “Prove all things; hold fast that which is good” is not merely a verse to hang above somebody else’s desk; it applies to every sermon, study, chart, book, and interpretation produced under the name of Christian teaching. I do not object to Ken Ammi disagreeing with my Scattered Giants: Nephilim Migration Maps series. He is perfectly free to reject my conclusions, challenge my use of passages, question historical claims, and present another interpretation. What I object to is calling something a review after openly admitting that most of the work was skipped. A man can inspect a house, disagree with its blueprint, and criticize its construction, but he ought to walk through more than the front hallway before condemning the entire building. You cannot taste one spoonful, throw away the bowl, and publish a culinary autopsy of the whole meal. That is not a review. That is a reaction wearing spectacles.
I took the time to read all eleven pages of Ammi’s critique. I did not read his first page, decide that he repeated himself, announce that I would begin skipping, and then summarize the unread remainder as worthless. I read his argument about Genesis 6:4. I read his treatment of Numbers 13:33. I read his remarks about the Nephilim, Anakim, Rephaim, Emim, Zamzummim, Og, Goliath, the King James Bible, my educational background, my use of historical traditions, and the distinction he draws between pre-Flood Nephilim and post-Flood giants. I even read the long advertisement for his own books at the end. He received from me the courtesy that his review did not extend to my ninety-five-page work. That does not make me automatically right, but it means I am answering what he actually wrote rather than shooting at shadows from the doorway. He openly states, “Since we are merely on page 8 of 95, we will begin skipping a lot,” and later pronounces the remaining series a “vicious looping circle.” He read far enough to become annoyed, skipped what remained, and then wrote the verdict before examining the evidence.
I am not writing this because another man’s opinion controls my blood pressure. What somebody likes or dislikes about me is none of my business. I cannot spend my life chasing every raised eyebrow on the Internet with a butterfly net. The issue is truth. The issue is Scripture. The issue is whether the post-Flood record contains giant peoples connected in any meaningful way to the strange events of Genesis 6, whether the Bible permits investigation beyond the immediate wording of two verses, and whether clearly labeled possibilities should be treated as though they were presented as inspired additions to the canon. Some conclusions in the original series were stated strongly; some were framed as possibilities; some were openly identified as speculation. Where language can be sharpened, it should be sharpened. Where evidence can be strengthened, it should be strengthened. But a reviewer does not earn the right to turn possibilities into dogmatic claims, reduce ninety-five pages to eight, toss in a credential insinuation, sprinkle the pile with “sci-fi tall-tales,” and then call the case closed. The Bible says, “Judge not according to the appearance, but judge righteous judgment” (John 7:24). Righteous judgment reads the evidence before sentencing the author.
The first and largest problem with Ammi’s critique is not his conclusion about Genesis 6. It is his method. He admits that he reached only page eight of a ninety-five-page document and then began “skipping a lot.” That admission is not hidden in a footnote, discovered by forensic handwriting analysis, or whispered to a friend after publication. It is printed in the review itself. He then concludes that the rest of the fifteen-part series is essentially one repetitive circle. In plain English, he tells readers that he did not fully examine the material and then assures them that the unexamined material was not worth examining. That is like a juror sleeping through eighty-seven witnesses and waking up in time to announce that everybody said the same thing. The conclusion may flatter the juror, but it does not establish justice.
A legitimate review does not require agreement, sympathy, or politeness. It does require acquaintance with the object being reviewed. A book reviewer may summarize sections, concentrate on central claims, and avoid commenting on every sentence, but he must honestly represent the work’s scope and development. My series moved from the biblical foundation to Babel, the “-im” tribes, Canaan, Og of Bashan, Goliath, geographical migration theories, global traditions, secret societies, modern hybridization, and prophetic implications. A critic may argue that those connections are weak, speculative, or mistaken. He may not responsibly claim that the entire development is empty repetition after announcing that he skipped most of it. You cannot critique an argument’s later qualifications when you did not read them, its developing distinctions when you passed over them, or its cumulative case when you abandoned the accumulation.
Proverbs 18:13 does not say, “He that answereth a matter after scanning the introduction and becoming irritated.” It says, “He that answereth a matter before he heareth it, it is folly and shame unto him.” The verse does not forbid judgment; it condemns premature judgment. God is not afraid of investigation. Truth does not need blindfolded defenders. If the series is wrong, then demonstrate the error from the complete series. Lay the actual premise beside the actual conclusion, identify the missing evidence, distinguish a bad inference from a factual error, and show where the text will not bear the weight placed upon it. But once a reviewer announces that he has begun skipping, every sweeping verdict afterward comes with a hole through the bottom. A cannon without powder may still make an impressive piece of lawn furniture, but it will not win the battle.
Ammi opens his review by identifying me as holding a master’s degree in Pastoral Theology and immediately adds that the “Meet Our Pastor” section of my website did not state where the degree was obtained. That parenthesis appears before he addresses Genesis 6:4, before he defines Nephilim, before he discusses the Flood, and before he evaluates the series’ evidence. The reader is therefore introduced not merely to an argument, but to an insinuation: perhaps something about the educational background is incomplete, questionable, or intentionally concealed. A parenthesis can carry a knife while pretending to carry groceries. Nothing in that observation establishes whether “and also after that” refers to a post-Flood recurrence. Nothing about the name of a seminary determines whether Numbers 13:33 should be discarded as entirely false. The credential remark does not advance the exegesis by one syllable.
For clarity, I earned a Bachelor of Theology and a Master of Theology in Pastoral Theology from Andersonville Theological Seminary and have continued advanced theological study, including additional coursework through multiple institutions. The current biography states the relevant educational information more fully. But I did not realize a ministry’s “About” page was required to function as a registrar’s office before a Bible interpretation could be examined. Perhaps every article must now arrive with sealed transcripts, a commencement photograph, the dean’s shoe size, and a notarized copy of the cafeteria menu. That may satisfy the credential detectives, but it will not interpret the text. Paul asked the Galatians, “For do I now persuade men, or God?” (Galatians 1:10). A degree does not make an interpretation correct, and an abbreviated web biography does not make it false.
This is where the critic must be handled fairly. I cannot prove that Ammi consciously intended a character attack merely because he inserted the parenthesis. Motives belong to God unless a man states them. I can, however, judge the rhetorical effect: it encourages suspicion about the writer before readers encounter the argument. That is unnecessary and beneath the subject. If my educational claims were false, document the falsehood. If my degree were irrelevant, leave it alone. If the argument is poor, defeat it with Scripture. A man with good ammunition does not need to throw his opponent’s biography at the target. David did not defeat Goliath by questioning where the giant attended military school. He placed the stone where the argument lived. The doctrine stands or falls by the Book, not by whether an “About” page met one critic’s preferred formatting requirements.
A major portion of Ammi’s review objects to the word giants, repeatedly calling it vague, generic, subjective, modern, and nearly useless. He argues that I move among Nephilim, Rephaim, Anakim, mythological giants, unusually large humans, and metaphorical systems without defining the term at every appearance. There is a legitimate caution buried beneath the repetition: an umbrella term can become confusing when several distinct categories are gathered underneath it. A careful writer should clarify when giants refers specifically to the Hebrew Nephilim, when it represents Rephaim, when it concerns extraordinary stature, and when it functions thematically for powerful or hybrid figures in world traditions. I accept the usefulness of that distinction. Precision is not an enemy. A sharpened pencil writes better than a broom handle.
But Ammi’s remedy is worse than the ailment. The King James Bible uses the English word giants. Genesis 6:4 says, “There were giants in the earth in those days; and also after that.” Numbers 13:33 says, “And there we saw the giants, the sons of Anak, which come of the giants.” Deuteronomy 2:11 says of the Emim, “Which also were accounted giants, as the Anakims.” Deuteronomy 2:20 says of the Zamzummim, “That also was accounted a land of giants: giants dwelt therein in old time.” Deuteronomy 3:11 says, “For only Og king of Bashan remained of the remnant of giants.” The word may represent different underlying Hebrew terms, but that does not make the English word useless. The word spirit has multiple biblical uses. The word world has multiple uses. The word law has multiple uses. Nobody throws them out of the dictionary because context must determine meaning. Context is not an inconvenience invented to rescue language; context is how language works.
The series used giants in both a strict and an expanded sense. Strictly, the term referred to the beings identified in Genesis 6:4 and Numbers 13:33. More broadly, it followed the King James Bible’s designation of Rephaim-related peoples and investigated whether giant traditions elsewhere preserved distorted memories of similar beings. That broader investigation can certainly be disputed. A Greek Titan is not proved to be a biblical Nephilim merely because both traditions involve extraordinary beings. A red-haired giant tradition in Nevada does not become a verse in Numbers by wearing a large sandal. The point of the series was to investigate possible relationships, not to claim that every tall skeleton, pagan demigod, dragon legend, and corporate executive possessed the same genealogy. A category may contain subcategories without every item becoming identical. A barn holds horses, saddles, hay, and tools, but no sober farmer believes the pitchfork is descended from the mare.
The central textual dispute concerns Genesis 6:4: “There were giants in the earth in those days; and also after that, when the sons of God came in unto the daughters of men, and they bare children to them, the same became mighty men which were of old, men of renown.” Ammi argues that “after that” refers only to continued unions occurring after the first unions but still before the Flood. He insists that inserting the Flood into the phrase is artificial because the Flood is not explicitly introduced until later in the chapter. That is an interpretation. It is not a grammatical commandment descending from Sinai on a separate stone. The verse identifies giants “in those days” and “also after that,” then explains their association with the sons of God entering the daughters of men. The precise reach of “after that” must be interpreted from the larger biblical record, not settled by repeatedly declaring another reading incoherent.
The series interpreted “also after that” in light of the post-Flood appearance of the same English term and the biblical record of extraordinary giant peoples in Canaan. That interpretation may be challenged, but it was not created by cutting a verse in half and fleeing the scene. The full verse was cited in the study. The phrase was emphasized because it raises the question that later passages appear to answer. Ammi accuses me of “cheating” by reading ahead and connecting Genesis 6 with subsequent biblical history. Reading ahead is otherwise known as studying the Bible. The Holy Ghost did not place Genesis, Numbers, Deuteronomy, Joshua, Samuel, and Chronicles in soundproof rooms. Scripture compares with Scripture. Paul says in 1 Corinthians 2:13, “comparing spiritual things with spiritual.” When a rare designation appears before the Flood and again in Canaan, examining the relationship is not cheating; it is the job.
Ammi also argues that five passages identify the Flood survivors and do not include Nephilim. That observation defeats one possible theory—that living pre-Flood Nephilim walked onto the ark beside Noah carrying luggage, but it does not defeat every possible mechanism of post-Flood recurrence. The original series explicitly stated that “the mechanism remains debated” and mentioned possibilities including another incursion or transmission through a human bloodline. I am not claiming that each proposed mechanism carries equal biblical support. A second incursion fits the pattern of Genesis 6 more naturally than a giant hiding behind the elephants while Noah counted passengers. The point is that a survivor list cannot disprove a later recurrence caused by another event. Nobody argues that because only eight people survived the Flood, idolatry, murder, sorcery, and rebellion could never appear again. The Flood judged a world; it did not remove the devil, abolish free will, or initiate the final eternal state.
Ammi’s principal answer to Numbers 13:33 is that the statement came from the ten unbelieving spies who brought an “evil report.” Therefore, he treats their identification of the sons of Anak with the giants as unreliable and insists that nearly all post-Flood Nephilim teaching rests upon one sentence spoken by rebuked men. That sounds formidable until the rest of the Bible is allowed into the courtroom. Yes, the ten spies were unbelieving. Yes, they exaggerated Israel’s helplessness. Yes, they discouraged the congregation and contradicted God’s promise. The evil in their report was not that every city, inhabitant, grape, wall, mountain, and tribal name had been invented. The evil was that they used the real obstacles to deny the power and promise of God. Their conclusion was false: “We be not able to go up against the people” (Numbers 13:31). Caleb’s answer was not, “There are no Anakim.” His answer was, “Let us go up at once, and possess it; for we are well able to overcome it” (Numbers 13:30).
Moses later describes the land without depending upon the ten spies’ grasshopper comparison. Deuteronomy 1:28 recounts the people saying, “The people is greater and taller than we; the cities are great and walled up to heaven; and moreover we have seen the sons of the Anakims there.” More decisively, Deuteronomy 9:2 identifies “a people great and tall, the children of the Anakims, whom thou knowest, and of whom thou hast heard say, Who can stand before the children of Anak!” Moses does not correct the existence, identity, or formidable stature of the Anakim. He corrects Israel’s unbelief by declaring, “Understand therefore this day, that the LORD thy God is he which goeth over before thee; as a consuming fire he shall destroy them” (Deuteronomy 9:3). The unbelievers said, “They are great; therefore God cannot.” Moses said, “They are great; nevertheless God will.” The error was not seeing giants. The error was seeing giants and forgetting God.
Joshua 11:21–22 then records that Joshua “cut off the Anakims from the mountains” and that none remained in Israel’s land except in Gaza, Gath, and Ashdod. That geographical remnant matters because Goliath later comes from Gath. The Bible does not need the ten spies to preserve the existence of the Anakim, their unusual reputation, their geographical placement, or their survival in Philistine territory. Numbers 13:33 is not floating alone in a vacuum like a loose page blown out of a bad man’s notebook. It belongs to a network of passages. Ammi may still argue that the ten spies falsely connected the Anakim directly to the Nephilim. That is the actual point of debate. But saying the entire post-Flood giant case rests on one evil sentence is like saying the doctrine of resurrection rests only on the testimony of frightened women because they happened to reach the tomb first. The witness must be evaluated, but the rest of the record does not disappear.
Deuteronomy 2 refuses to cooperate with the claim that the post-Flood giant subject is manufactured from Numbers 13:33 alone. Concerning the Emim, the Bible says, “The Emims dwelt therein in times past, a people great, and many, and tall, as the Anakims; which also were accounted giants, as the Anakims; but the Moabites call them Emims” (Deuteronomy 2:10–11). Concerning the land of Ammon, it says, “That also was accounted a land of giants: giants dwelt therein in old time; and the Ammonites call them Zamzummims; a people great, and many, and tall, as the Anakims” (Deuteronomy 2:20–21). These statements are not spoken by the ten spies. They are not part of the evil report. They are inspired historical explanations delivered through Moses. They identify giant peoples, compare them with the Anakim, and describe them as great, numerous, and tall. The critic may debate their genetic relationship to Genesis 6, but he cannot honestly reduce their existence to one unreliable sentence.
Deuteronomy 3:11 adds Og king of Bashan: “For only Og king of Bashan remained of the remnant of giants.” His iron bedstead measured nine cubits by four cubits “after the cubit of a man.” Ammi argues that the object may have been ritual rather than a sleeping bed and therefore tells us nothing certain about Og’s height. That interpretation does not remove the inspired description that Og remained “of the remnant of giants.” Even if his furniture were ceremonial, the label remains. Later, 2 Samuel 21 and 1 Chronicles 20 describe warriors “born to the giant in Gath,” including one with six fingers on each hand and six toes on each foot. Scripture is not merely describing an unusually tall basketball team that wandered into Palestine. It presents recurring lines, locations, physical peculiarities, and tribal memories grouped beneath the language of giants.
Here a distinction must be maintained. The existence of post-Flood giants is explicit in the King James Bible. The exact biological relationship of every Rephaite, Anakite, Emite, Zamzummite, Philistine champion, and pre-Flood Nephilim is interpretive. My series argued for significant continuity; Ammi argues for absolute separation. Neither man should smuggle his conclusion into the definition and then announce victory. He repeatedly says there is “literally zero correlation” between pre-Flood Nephilim and post-Flood Rephaim. But Numbers 13:33, in the Bible I use and teach, expressly places Nephilim and sons of Anak in the same statement. He eliminates that correlation by declaring the statement unreliable. I accept the statement while distinguishing its factual observations from the unbelieving conclusion built upon them. That is the disagreement. The battlefield is not empty merely because one side has planted a sign saying, “Nothing happened here.”
Ammi repeatedly claims that post-Flood Nephilim teaching makes God fail. According to his framing, if Nephilim or related corruption appeared after the Flood, then God missed a loophole, wasted the Flood, or needed Israel to finish a task He could not complete. He repeats that argument so often that it becomes the theological drumbeat of the review. But this is a false dilemma built upon a mistaken idea of divine judgment. God’s judgment at one point in history does not require that the judged sin become metaphysically impossible forever afterward. God destroyed Sodom and Gomorrah, yet sexual perversion did not vanish from the earth. God drowned Pharaoh’s army, yet oppressive empires returned. God judged idolatry in Israel, yet idols returned before the ashes cooled. God cast Satan out of his original estate, yet Satan continues operating until his appointed final judgment. A recurring enemy does not prove a failed God. It proves that history has not yet reached Revelation 20.
The Flood accomplished exactly what God intended. It judged the violent pre-Flood world, preserved Noah and his family, maintained the human line through which the promises would advance, and established a new covenantal order. Hebrews 11:7 says Noah “prepared an ark to the saving of his house; by the which he condemned the world.” First Peter 3:20 says “eight souls were saved by water.” Second Peter 2:5 says God “spared not the old world, but saved Noah the eighth person.” Those passages establish the survivors and success of the judgment. They do not say that no fallen angel could ever transgress again, no giant people could ever emerge, no corrupted worship could ever spread, and no satanic strategy could ever be repeated. Ammi turns the Flood into a theological extermination warranty covering all future manifestations of similar evil. The Bible does not issue that warranty.
Suppose, for argument’s sake, that a second angelic incursion occurred after the Flood. God did not miss a hole in the ark; another rebellion took place later. Suppose instead that post-Flood giant peoples arose through an unusual human lineage. God did not fail; human corruption continued in a fallen world. Suppose the physical bloodline claims are wrong, but the spiritual pattern of forbidden knowledge, counterfeit divinity, hybrid mythology, and satanic opposition continued. God still did not fail. The cross did not fail because sinners remain on earth. Calvary secured the final victory, but the devil is still “as a roaring lion” until the prophetic schedule reaches his destruction. The critic’s slogan sounds pious, “God did not fail,” but it is being used to forbid possibilities that Scripture itself leaves open. God’s sovereignty does not need protection from the verses He inspired.
One of the most important distinctions in the entire discussion is the difference between biblical statement, interpretive conclusion, historical correlation, and speculative possibility. My series did not always place flashing road signs between those categories, and some sentences should be tightened if the work is revised. But the distinctions are present. The study says the mechanism of post-Flood recurrence “remains debated.” It asks whether Nimrod “may have been” hybrid or Nephilim-empowered. It says Babel “may have functioned” as a launch point. It repeatedly uses could, possibly, perhaps, suggests, and if. The Antarctica essay calls itself “one of the most controversial and speculative theories” in the narrative and expressly states that much of the investigation “leans into the realm of mystery and speculation.” A man may reject those speculations, but he should not review a question mark as though it were a forged exclamation point.
Ammi notices some of those qualifiers, quotes them, and then complains that later passages sometimes move into categorical language. On that limited point, he has identified something worth improving. When a long series develops from biblical exposition into historical theory and prophetic application, the writer should consistently tell readers which ground they are standing on. “The Bible says” must never become interchangeable with “this pattern may suggest.” Claims about Nimrod’s biology, global migrations, suppressed remains, elite bloodlines, Antarctica, AI vessels, and modern hybridization do not possess the same textual certainty as the existence of the Anakim, Og, Goliath, or the Genesis 6 event. Some claims in the original series were written with greater confidence than the evidence supplied within the paper. Truth is not injured when a teacher admits that his signposts could be clearer. Only pride bleeds when correction arrives.
But that concession does not rescue the review’s misrepresentation. A possibility can be weak, strong, interesting, implausible, or unsupported. It cannot honestly be transformed into an adamant doctrinal declaration simply because the critic finds the subject irritating. Asking, “Could this be related?” is not equivalent to announcing, “Thus saith the LORD, and anyone who disagrees is an apostate.” Investigation is not inspiration. A detective may examine a footprint without preaching a sermon on the shoe size. The series followed a trail from explicit biblical giants into traditions and modern parallels. Some sections stand on granite; others stand on planks over a swamp and should be walked carefully. The responsible critic identifies the terrain. The irresponsible critic sets fire to the map and announces that every road was imaginary.
Ammi’s review repeatedly uses expressions such as “un-biblical fantasy tall-tales,” “neo-theo sci-fi,” “dangerous incoherence,” and similar dismissive labels. Sarcasm is not automatically illegitimate. Elijah mocked the prophets of Baal. Paul wished the Galatian troublers would cut themselves off. Jesus called religious hypocrites blind guides, serpents, and whited sepulchres. A sharpened sentence can lance an intellectual boil. But biblical sarcasm exposes an error after the error has been demonstrated. It does not replace demonstration. Calling a proposal “sci-fi” may entertain readers already convinced, but it does not interpret Genesis 6:4, explain Deuteronomy 2, or erase Og from Deuteronomy 3. A sneer is not a concordance. A label is not an argument. A man can shout “tall-tale” from the roof until his voice gives out, and the Anakim will still be waiting in Deuteronomy 9:2.
The most excessive portion of the review is the attempt to connect questions about corrupted bloodlines with the historical danger of mass and serial murder. The series asked whether ancient bloodline traditions and spiritual influences might persist. Ammi answered that such ideas imply some humans are not human and have historically led to murder, even referring readers to a chapter he titled “Nephil Kampf.” That is not a measured warning; it drags an investigation into giant traditions toward the shadow of genocidal ideology without demonstrating that I advocated violence against anyone. I did not. The New Testament command is explicit: “We wrestle not against flesh and blood” (Ephesians 6:12). Christians are not commissioned to identify suspicious families, draw bloodline maps, or harm people suspected of carrying anything. The weapons of our warfare are spiritual, and the Gospel is offered to sinners without a genealogy test at the door.
The review ends with an extensive catalog of Ammi’s own books dealing with angels, demons, Nephilim, giants, Og, Enoch, paranormal entities, and related subjects. There is nothing inherently wrong with referencing one’s prior work when it contains supporting arguments. I have books and studies too. But the effect is worth noticing: the reviewer dismisses most of another man’s ninety-five pages after skipping them, then directs the reader to a shelf of his own treatments as the place where the subject has presumably been handled correctly. That is not a neutral observer wandering through the field. That is a competing shopkeeper reviewing the store across the street and stapling his catalog to the verdict. His books may contain valuable research. They may also contain errors. Their existence does not make his interpretation self-authenticating any more than my degrees make mine.
The proper response is not to pretend that every sentence in Scattered Giants descended from heaven engraved on iron. The proper response is to place the complete documents side by side and let readers judge. Read my ninety-five pages. Read Ammi’s eleven. Notice where he quotes accurately. Notice where he raises legitimate questions. Notice where my language should have been more carefully qualified. Then notice where he dismisses disputed interpretations as impossible, treats the ten spies’ unbelief as acid that dissolves every factual statement, repeats that God must have failed, inserts remarks about credentials and the King James Bible, admits skipping most of the work, and still pronounces a comprehensive verdict. The truth does not need a rigged scale. Put all the weight on the table.
My central position remains that Genesis 6 records a real supernatural incursion, that the sons of God were not merely pious boys from Seth’s Sunday school class, that their union with the daughters of men produced the giants named in the text, and that the post-Flood record contains giant peoples whose relationship to the Genesis 6 event deserves serious investigation. Numbers 13:33 supplies an explicit verbal connection in the King James Bible. Deuteronomy 2 independently describes the Emim and Zamzummim as peoples great, numerous, tall, and accounted giants like the Anakim. Deuteronomy 3 identifies Og as remaining of the remnant of giants. Joshua 11 traces surviving Anakim to Gaza, Gath, and Ashdod. Samuel and Chronicles record giant warriors from Gath. Those passages do not prove every global migration theory in my series. They do prove that post-Flood giantology is not constructed from one lonely sentence with nothing beneath it but imagination.
My broader historical and prophetic proposals remain proposals to be tested. Global accounts of giants, demigods, divine kings, hybrid beings, extraordinary architecture, forbidden knowledge, and flood memories are not automatically biblical confirmations. They may preserve distorted memories, reflect ordinary mythmaking, combine historical recollection with pagan theology, or arise through several causes at once. Claims concerning archaeological suppression, unusual remains, elite bloodlines, Antarctica, transhumanism, and AI require evidence proportional to their size. Where evidence is incomplete, the language should remain investigative. But Christians should not surrender the field merely because secular institutions or irritated specialists have placed a “No Trespassing” sign around the question. First Thessalonians 5:21 does not say, “Mock all things.” It says, “Prove all things.” Proof requires open Bibles, open records, careful distinctions, and enough patience to finish the paper before reviewing it.
Ken Ammi had every right to disagree with Scattered Giants: Nephilim Migration Maps. He had the right to argue that “and also after that” remains pre-Flood, that Numbers 13:33 contains an unreliable identification, that Rephaim were ordinary post-Flood humans, that Og’s bed was ceremonial, that global giant traditions are unrelated, and that modern technological parallels are speculative. Those are legitimate areas of debate. What he did not have was a sound methodological basis for dismissing a ninety-five-page series after announcing on page eight that he would begin skipping. The title says “Review,” but the document becomes a rebuttal to selected early claims followed by a summary judgment over largely unread material. A review that refuses to review is a weather report written with the curtains closed.
The educational parenthesis did not settle Genesis. The repeated ridicule did not erase Deuteronomy. The appeal to the evil report did not make the Anakim disappear from Moses and Joshua. The charge that God must have failed did not account for the biblical pattern of judgments followed by later recurrences of evil. The accusation of dangerous bloodline thinking did not fairly represent a work that nowhere commands violence against any human being. And the long list of the critic’s own books did not transform his interpretation into the Authorized Version. When the smoke clears, the reader is left with two competing approaches: one that investigates a broad pattern and sometimes reaches beyond what can be established, and one that narrows the field so aggressively that inconvenient connections are declared impossible before the investigation is complete. One approach needs tighter guardrails. The other needs to read past page eight.
I am not asking readers to accept every possibility raised in the original series. I am asking them to read, test, compare, and judge by the King James Bible. Where I have stated an inference too strongly, let it be corrected. Where historical evidence is weak, let it be identified as weak. Where speculation outruns documentation, let the reins be pulled. But where the Bible speaks, let no critic silence it with a smirk; where the text raises a question, let no specialist bury it beneath terminology; and where a man publishes a verdict over material he admits he skipped, let Proverbs 18:13 stand beside the review like a bailiff beside the witness box: “He that answereth a matter before he heareth it, it is folly and shame unto him.” The giants may be disputed. The migrations may be debated. The theories may be tested. But one fact is already full-grown and standing in the room: you cannot honestly review what you refused to read.