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?

How would a scientist estimate the time when a canyon formed? Various techniques and different interpretations of those techniques have yielded a wide range of estimated dates for the formation of Arizona's Grand Canyon. But results from a new technique are again challenging the canyon's previous date. Will science ever resolve the Grand Canyon dating game?