Decades ago, when researchers began publishing their discoveries of transparent, floppy tissue with recognizable intact cells inside dinosaur bones, plenty of shocked evolutionists disputed their results. After all, nobody knew—and still nobody knows—a process whereby flesh and bones could persist over the eons that evolutionists insist dinosaur fossils have endured.

Casual observers are not the only ones who puzzle over dinosaur footprint origins. After all, other animal tracks in mud are not fossilized today because erosive processes rapidly erase them. If a rock layer requires thousands of years to solidify, then how were dinosaur tracks recorded in them?

A portion of a fossilized dinosaur upper arm bone from Tanzania, originally collected in the 1930s, spent many years nestled among thousands of dinosaur specimens housed at London's Natural History Museum. Re-examined, researchers now claim that it is the oldest dinosaur—or almost a dinosaur—in the world.

Well, was it a dinosaur or not?

Original dinosaur tissues in fossil bones are probably the most controversial finds in all of paleontology. Secular scientists have difficulty interpreting them. They debate whether the tissues are real, based on laboratory-measured tissue decay rates, or whether the tissue decay rates are real, based on plainly observed tissues.