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Truth is I partook in who-Ireallyam at CheckPoint Charley, the WhatwouldIreallydo - the all time do-nots, all-do and Whatnots. It was me and the Notsee, another Whatnot in the now--guise, of a Keepmeinner Berliner border guard. "You got me surrounded." "Are you going to give up ? Raise your hands if you are. I got the drop on you." "You got me Black Bart, I give up." "No-no-no Black Bart - don't give up. You are our hero - are never-give-em-up guy". "Easy for you to say - I say. Your not here." "I know what I would do." "You know - when you've done it - that's when." What would I do ? What-I really-did; is the really I-am.

Eve was raped. She was stained - raped or raptured by a snake, even if only mind-amok, an 'apple of my why', that old hokum from pokcum. Of course the woman was blamed, but not so much the wily out-of-pocket serpent. He was a randy one, but just boys-being-boys, and could-not help himself apparently. It was serpent seed, a very seedy character indeed. It was weed-seed the Befoe God, the strike-out of Stan-the-Man, the stained-glass master of Maryment. They put the stain before God as a precondition clause called Whatnot. They put the Whatnot before the Whatwas.

So they had to invent the Holy Grail, the Whatnot weed-killer today called things like Terminex, Round-up or Terminator. They tinkered with the seed making it sterile so you have to buy new from them annually. Will control the world by the deed of seed. Too many weeds. Weed-out. Its the age of genetics, the ability to preassign the God particle or Holy God-gene, to the genii out of the bottle, off the reservation, ran for the hills.

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