Showing posts with label god. Show all posts
Showing posts with label god. Show all posts

11/23/2007

Catholic Nuns Plotting My Eternal Damnation

His Permanent Record Is Almost Full
Catholic nuns smirking and gloating over my permanent record. Damn bitches were plotting my demise and eternal damnation to hell.

The Grassy Knoll Institute can now confirm that Catholic nuns in the 1960's were cooking the books making Catholic kids appear more sinful than they really were. The nuns, A/K/A crafty demons from hell, realized that they would be out of business and obsolete if the children were well behaved and well mannered. Perhaps being reassigned to more private church activities such as decorating the church for Easter and Christmas seasons and cooking and serving the spaghetti dinners. Certainly a notch down from the power they wielded teaching the grade school children.

But the nuns had an ace in the hole. The Permanent Record. The permanent record was the ammunition and control for the nuns. By simply doctoring the books, adding a mortal sin and few venial sins to each child's record, all Catholics took a giant step towards damnation. Nobody questioned the Nun Mafia. If a nun called the parents of a child informing them that said child was behaving badly, there was no discussion between parents and child, it commenced right to the beatings. This was the type of power that nuns of the 1960's had.

This is one of the main reasons that I vowed to bring the nun mafia to their knee's. (A place they've never been before) One child's quest, against a formidable foe, a modern day David and Goliath. My battle lasted eight long years and some say the nuns won, but some notice that today, nuns are almost extinct and will soon be on the endangered species list. I leave that evidence as my testament that I had won the battle.

Take that bitches.



LURKING ON THE GRASSY KNOLL

11/17/2007

The Catholic Spelling Bee

The Setting: A typical Catholic grade school spelling bee tournament.
40 Children lined up against the lockers shoulder to shoulder in firing squad fashion. (With these nuns, you never wanted to give them that opportunity)
One nun sat at her desk holding a list of words while another nun patrolled the firing squad line making sure no student talked or attempted to cheat.
The nun at the desk would call out the next student in line: "David, spell the word 'Television'."
David speaks: "Television, T-E-L-E-V-I-S-I-O-N, television."
Nun at desk: "Correct David. Patrick, you are next. Spell the word "Antidisestablishmentarianism."
And that is how many spelling bee's I participated in went.

Except one. Every year, one student, a girl, named Maryellen, (A well known nun ass kisser) won the spelling Bee each year. The "Bee" was simply a formality as most students didn't even want to be in the police line up, (Bee line up) and it appeared that Maryellen got all the easy words to spell. If she would had graciously accepted the certificate without gloating, I wouldn't be writing this update. But she needed to be stopped.

Maryellen was rumored to prep for the spelling bee all year long and she would be hard to beat. I would need to be at the top of my game. I decided to actually study and rise to the occasion. I would defeat Maryellen and make her mad as hell. (Yea, that was my plan)

Next year's spelling bee came around and instead of getting purposely eliminated in round one, I actually tried for once. I got past round one, then round two, and finally it was just Maryellen and me. After several more tense rounds for Maryellen, she missed and went down. (Hey dirty minds, this was a Catholic school here) I was now the champion. I looked over at Maryellen and gave her a big "YEA!!" My mission was complete, and I proudly took my seat.

The next day sister Charlotte told me since I won the class spelling bee, I would be competing against the other class champions. And that winner would represent the school and compete in the district championship, and then to the state spelling bee. This sounded like a whole lot of work to me. All I wanted to do was smite Maryellen, (Which I did) and what do I get? I get nuns looking out for me, making sure I'm feeling OK and acting like they were now my personal body guards. I was in bizarro world.

I told sister Charlotte I didn't want to compete anymore. I just wanted to win my class. I told her to let Maryellen go instead. DENIED!!! She wouldn't have it.

After a week of being denied recess and instead having the nuns tutor me in spelling, I was ready for the school spelling bee. All 8 grades worth.....

After losing a week of recess, and knowing if I won this round, I would be practicing more and more with the nuns, I took action..... to save my soul and my sanity.

The day of the school Bee had come. All eight of us lined up in the church, from grade one through eight. We had a great turnout as the entire school was present to watch and listen to us spell words. (In reality, the students had no choice, we were more like inmates than students) When it was my turn, the nun gave me my word. I simply said I didn't know and then proceeded to sit down. I had taken about three steps when the nun stopped me.

She said for me to take a guess at the spelling of the word. I said no, I didn't know. The nun got angry and told me that I wasn't trying. I nodded and confirmed that she was correct for once. I wasn't trying, nor did I want to try. I had explained this to her a week earlier but sister Charlotte had selective hearing. So there we were....

The nun in charge gave me a disgusted glare, took a deep breath, and with a stern voice, commanded me to get back in line and spell the word given. So I simply said, "Apostle, (Which was the word, it was a Catholic school mind you) L-U-K-E, Apostle." The audience started laughing which infuriated the nuns.

The nun, following procedure to the letter, told me it was incorrect and then told me to sit down. I left the firing squad, err, police line up, err, spelling bee line and found a seat in the audience to cheers and clapping. No standing ovation as the nuns warned all of us that no one was to stand except for the eight kids in the contest. A dagger flying stare by the nuns silenced the crowd immediately.

Sometimes, the best laid plans for smiting goes terribly wrong. But what the hell, I kicked her ass in the bee and it was over now. Until I got home from school and my mother was waiting at the door. Yes, the son-of-a-bitch nuns had decided to make a call home to my mom to tell her how well I did at the spelling bee....

Can you spell spanking......


LURKING ON THE GRASSY KNOLL

11/05/2007

Dare To Dream

Bullseye
For my entire 8 years of Catholic grade school I was hounded by Catholic nuns. When I came across this photo, I so wanted to do this many times as a student. Alas, I never had the chance or so help me, I would have loaded up.Please notice the accuracy of the snowballs being thrown. Its from all the practice the nuns have of hurling erasers at unsuspecting students sitting at their desks.....
These nuns had to be stopped and the Grassy Knoll Institute had just the plan to do it.


LURKING ON THE GRASSY KNOLL

10/22/2007

Confetti Bandit Strikes Again

In the Grassy Knoll Institutes ongoing battle against Catholic nuns of the 1960’s, I came up with yet another ingenious plan to drive the nuns crazy. It was a simple stunt with no harm ever coming to any child, animal or property, but plenty of aggravation for the nuns. After all, fair is fair and the nuns needed a little dose to bring the score even.

My plan was simple, the execution quick, and the devastation monumental. The delivery method still posed a problem for I needed to be alone to deliver the package. I needed to think this out for I feared if any witnesses were present; the nuns would surely be able to squeeze that information from the spineless witness.

So I started mapping out the movements of the nuns each day and the daily lunch and recess period. I soon found a pattern I could use. When we finished our lunch, we then went out on the playground for 20 minutes. Child after child would file out one by one as they finished. For the first five minutes of lunch, when all of us were still eating, the nun in charge would get up, excuse herself, and then go and do nun things for 30 minutes while we ate.

I would get up when a few kids were left and instead of going outside, I would sneak down the hallway and into the bathroom. I would stay there for a couple of minutes and then back track back to my room. I would walk by casually and if no one was left in the room, I would re-enter the room and quickly go to my notebook and grab a few pieces of standard notebook paper making ever sure they were completely blank so as not to leave any incriminating evidence behind. I would then tear the paper into tiny little pieces and drop them into the overhead heater and air vents.

If perchance the motor was running pumping out air or heat during lunch, I would abort the mission and go outside. But, on that particular day, the vent motor was off, I shoved several sheets of confetti sized paper down in the four vents. The vents were screened so you couldn’t get your fingers stuck and also hid the paper from view.

Now, let me describe the vents for you. Each classroom had one wall that had our lockers on the bottom and very tall windows reaching the ceiling on top. There was a shelf alongside the entire wall about five feet tall. The windows were recessed so if anyone felt the urge to jump out, they would have to climb up the wall, and stand on the ledge, and then open the windows to climb out. This was also the area that housed the room heater and air circulator. You could not see down the vents as the screens obscured the view and it was pretty dark down there.

OK, back to the story. I quickly shoved the paper down the vents and then quickly exited the room and blended into the crowd with the rest of the kids on the playground. Then, all I had to do was wait. The recess bell rang and all the kids lined up in single file according to classroom and proceeded to file inside the school in an orderly fashion not saying a word. Wait. All I had to do was wait. And to my surprise, the wait would be mere minutes.

The nun in charge, feeling a chill, walked over to the heater and turned the switch on. My plan was implemented in a moment. The heater churned to life and in an instant tiny confetti paper shot out and up scaring the hell out of the nun. The nun actually gasped and jumped back as if the confetti was stinging her. The entire class roared with laughter for almost a minute until the nun got her wits about her and turned off the switch to the heater. My plan had worked perfectly and only later would I realize that there was an added bonus.

As all nun investigations go, this one would be long and drawn out making the Spanish inquisition seem like a short movie at the Caans film festival. The janitor was summoned to clean out the heater and examine any remaining evidence. Which, by the mess on the floor, was minimal at best. The nuns started out tough, claiming that after examining all the evidence, they knew the child responsible. The nuns were staring directly at me as they spoke in unison. Damn that nun radar. But I was safe. There were no witnesses, no evidence to link me, I was in the clear baby.

The nuns gave us one last chance to fess up before they called the parents for the one responsible. No one fussed up. No one dared. Silence from the kids and the nuns. After five more minutes of silence, and the bonus that no lessons were being taught in class and finally the nuns spoke again. A firm speech that God saw the child that did this terrible thing and it was the Catholic thing to do to confess their sin. No freakin way baby.

Another nun appeared in the room, now there were three of them, almost a gaggle, and they quickly huddled and then called alphabetically one by one each child out into the hallway to interrogate them. The door slammed as two nuns were now in the hall and one nun stayed to observe our mannerisms. I heard yelling, big time yelling and ranting about heart attacks, Jesus, mortal sin, and other intimidation tactics used on second graders of Catholic school.

My name was called sixth, and the nuns really tried to brow beat me. I simply took the tirades in stride knowing I had beaten the nuns this time. I was returned to my seat unscathed but a little hard of hearing. Each child had a turn with the dueling nuns but still no one confessed.

Frustrated, the nuns gave up but continued their inquisition for three days till finally they announced that even though they knew who the culprit was, they were not going to single him/her out. They were going to make the culprit have to live with the terrible mortal sin on their soul until they confessed it to the priest in confession on Friday.

So, that was their ploy, their way of extracting information. Let the priests do the dirty work and then sing like stool pigeons to the nuns of the crimes we confessed. No way was I going to fess this one up even knowing that I was endangering my mortal soul and if perchance I would die, I would go straight to hell. I would have to be careful playing outside until I could visit a neighboring church and go to confession there so as not to divulge my identity. I carried that sin on my soul for two weeks. Damn the nuns to hell.

The confetti bandit struck several more times that year and the nuns never did catch me on this one. After I graduated from grade school and in the safe harbor of high school, I sent the nuns a letter from the confetti bandit letting them know that I was still on the loose and that some day I would pass down my knowledge to my children and that the bandit would be reborn.

I knew the nuns would be ready...




LURKING ON THE GRASSY KNOLL

10/17/2007

Moses And The Burning Bush

The Grassy Knoll Institute takes a hard look at the bible story "Moses and the Burning Bush."

The burning bush story in the Old Testament. Everyone knows it. Moses leads his people out of Egypt after his God sent plagues and death to all the first born males without the mark of God on their doors......
Well, taking into consideration that this was written thousands of years ago, one would have a tough time explaining things that you never saw before.
With that intro, I noticed several UFO connections. Lets begin with Moses going to the summit of Mount Sinai to speak to the Lord and receive his laws and Commandments.

Let's set the scene here. Moses and his people are wandering in the desert after escaping the Egyptians and their years of slavery. Moses, through the power of God sent plague after plague onto the Pharoah of Egypt trying to convince him to let his people go. The Pharoah finally relented and Moses and his people marched out of Egypt. But soon the Pharoah had a change of heart and ordered his soldiers to mount their chariots and bring the slaves back to Egypt.

God sent a giant pillar of fire to slow the Egyptian army from advancing on Moses who was pinned at the mouth of the Red Sea. Then God parted the Red Sea and Moses and his followers crossed the sea while the Egyptian soldiers drowned when the wall of water collapsed around them. After years of wandering in the desert to cleanse the sin of Gods people, the Lord called Moses to the Mountain to receive his Commandments. The Lord spoke to Moses through a burning bush and instructed Moses to take the tablets of the 10 Commandments written by the Hand of God and give his people the new law of the land and Lord.

Here's where the UFO connection comes into play. What if,... An alien race played god. The aliens use their technology to unleash plague after plague until they send an airborne bacteria that kills all the first born while protecting Moses and the other believers for they were all inoculated and were immune to the bacteria. Perhaps those bitter herbs and spices were actually a vaccine to protect them from the plague.

The pillar of fire? A mere thrust of the aliens spacecraft engines hovering above would provide plenty of fire so as not to pass. The parting of the Red Sea? A simple pontoon bridge where the people could walk across the sea to safety all the while retracting it so the Egyptians could not follow.

The burning bush? A little light show, some pyrotechnics, a sound system, welding and cutting torches and a few slabs of granite. To primitive man, all these things could only be explained as godlike.

What if Moses was being spoken to through telepathy? Of course Moses would assume it was God who was speaking to him, for God was inside his head, his very thoughts and mind.

The mountain was covered in clouds and dense smoke not letting the people from the ground view the peak of the mountain. Perhaps an alien spacecraft was hovering just above the peak, leaving in it's exhaust thick smoke and the strange fire and lights the people spoke of.

Moses comes down from the mountain with the new laws of God, the 10 commandments and a new religion was born....


LURKING ON THE GRASSY KNOLL

A Genesis Story - With A Twist

And God saw that it was good. And on the seventh day, God rested. And on the eighth day Adam and Eve set up house in the Garden of Eden.

We all know the story of Adam and Eve. The first two humans to set foot upon the Earth. God put them there, in the Garden of Eden, after he created the earth, oceans, land, sky, heavens, animals, birds, and the fish in the sea. God told Adam and Eve to be fruitful and multiply. The rest is history. Or is it..

The Grassy Knoll Institute has another version of this biblical event. Perhaps Aliens in search of fuel, food, and natural resources landed on this third planet from the sun. Upon investigation, they found a very primitive mammal life. Humans in their utmost infancy. Almost indistinguishable from the apes that they fought for dominance. Perhaps the aliens took a liking to the humans. Sort of on the line as pets. Adhering to standard protocol, several experiments would have been conducted on the wildlife. Enhancements discussed. These enhancements would give humans an edge on the evolutionary chain. They would choose a male and female of the species.

The aliens, after surveying the landscape of the earth, decided an increase in brain capacity to raise the intellect for their two subjects would be the best enhancement. The surgery was performed, brain capacity increased that triggered the human male and female nervous systems to quicken responses from the brain to the body. A sense of awareness and cognitive reasoning was expanded. Add a little alien DNA to develop vocal cords for speech and the transformation was complete. As the humans awoke, they were studied and evaluated to make sure the enhancements had taken hold, and then released back into the wild to be fruitful and multiply.

This scenario explains the fabled missing link of the human species. One day, humans were just another species struggling to survive. The next day, the dominant species of the planet with domain over the fish in the sea, the animals on the land, and the birds in the sky. These two humans, we'll call them Adam and Eve for the sake of not having better names, immediately knew that they had been altered. They were aware of each other on a very personal and intimate level unlike ever before. They could communicate with hand and eye gestures, and soon by voice and finally a crude spoken language.

Adam and Eve became mates and had offspring. Many offspring. These children maintained the genetic enhancements from their parents and carried on the new seed to the existing herd. The alien seed had been planted, the human race would advance in leaps and bounds with every generation and would soon create social order and a written language. Tools would become more elaborate and with every generation, improvements made. The aliens changed the course of Earths evolution and Mankind's destiny forever.

And on the seventh Millennium, the aliens rested.


LURKING ON THE GRASSY KNOLL

10/14/2007

Altar Boys Secret Society

The Altar Boys Secret Society Part I

I had survived the Flute-O-Phone Spanish Nunquistion as not a single student cracked under the intense pressure and squealed on me, or themselves for that matter. Life was getting good. Time to venture into new avenues.

My buddy told me about a pretty good gig that would allow me to get out of school for hours at a time. Get out of school!!! That's all I needed to hear. He told me all I had to do was sign up to be an Altar boy. Anything to get out of harms way of the nun's wrath I thought.

Note to all non Catholics out there reading. An Altar boy was an assistant to the priest when he was saying mass. The Altar boy's duties ranged from holding the cross and leading the procession to bringing up the water and wine to the priest as he proceeded to move through the mass. Basically, the Altar boy was an indentured servant.

Ok, back to the story. Amazingly, it was easy to join the altar boys. There were no tests to take. No secret handshakes to learn and no secret password to get into the back of the church where everyone that is in the loop knows that is where all the action is.

That same day during my lunch break I went to see Father Iatti to inform him that he had a new recruit for the Altar boy army. Past the principles office I glided and down the steps to the Sacristy where Father Iatti's office was. Tapping ever so gently on the office door I entered the office slowly, (My spider senses were tingling) nervously looking about preparing myself to be yelled at. You see, a Catholic student never willingly went to see the priests.

The children were sent there by the nuns for more severe punishment apparently only available for the priests to inflict. So, this was a very unusual circumstance, especially for me, walking in to the office of my own free will instead of being dragged there by the nuns. This time I wanted to use my powers for good instead of evil and the priest would immediately sense this.

In reality, that didn't happen. Instead, Father Iatti came into the office, saw me sitting in the chair, and began to rant and rave at me yelling something about calling my mother and that I was in big trouble this time. He then went into his native tongue, which was Italian, and blurted out several more sentences before finally asking me what I had to say for myself. I almost confessed to whatever he was ranting about. He then said, "Well, I'm waiting. Why are you here?" I told him that I wanted to become an Altar boy and was ready to sign up and help the church. I figured that revelation would humble him a bit, quiet him down just a little after yelling at me for no reason at all. I could also see two prominent veins that appeared on his forehead and if perchance they somehow met, I imagined his head would explode. Yes, I know it would be cool to see, and I had a front row seat, but it would be messy but then I would not be inducted into the altar boy guild, or society, or club, whatever.

Fact was, I was offering my services to the church, to serve God, to help him. I waited for the apology but never got it. Instead, Father Iatti became a police inspector and began interrogating me like I was a criminal. Crimony, all I wanted to do was join the Altar boys. This was turning out to be more bother than I expected.

My answers did not satisfy Father Iatti and he continued the brow beating. Ten more minutes went by and still I was not inducted into the Altar boy guild and now my entire recess lunch break was over. What a gip. Not only did I waste my lunchtime, I was getting a lecture and the once over for doing absolutely nothing this time. Then it dawned on me. I was now missing class as the students entered the school in single file from the playground completely silent not daring to utter a peep while in line. This was OK. Let Father Iatti rant and rave at me. It wasn't like I wasn't used to it by now. Four years so far in Catholic school had hardened my nerves and resolve. Nothing could penetrate the fortress.

Then, like a bad dream, Father Iatti stopped his tirade and told me to return to class and that we would discuss this matter further during tomorrows lunch break. This was unacceptable. I had already wasted one recess period and I wasn't about to waste another. I had to move quickly before this got more out of hand then it was. I slowly got up out of my chair, sighed lowly and announced that maybe I wasn't cut out to be an Altar boy after all. Even though both of my older brothers were, maybe I wasn't good enough. I then turned to the door averting my eyes from Father Iatti and began to leave.

Then it happened. Father spoke. He said in a very low tone that there was an Altar boy meeting Friday morning right before first period and that I was invited to attend. He said the meeting was to discuss the Altar boys duties and to introduce several new members of which I was now one. I said thanks and ran out the door and hurried to class so as to not be late and risk the wrath of the nuns for being tardy.

I was in. A made man. An Altar boy. A license to skip school virtually almost every day. Life was good. I couldn't wait for Friday.

But of course, there was a glitch. A glitch that I didn't consider. Thinking only about being able to miss school while serving early morning mass each weekday, I failed to realize that I would also be responsible for serving mass on Saturdays and Sundays. And since I was the rookie, I would be getting the lousy very early morning mass schedules on the weekends. Now this sucked but the wheels were already in progress and Friday was approaching quickly.

I needed a plan. But that is another Altar boy story, another legend. Stay tuned for the update.




LURKING ON THE GRASSY KNOLL

10/10/2007

God Is All Powerful

I had won my first battle with the Catholic Nuns when out of fear and further reprisals the nun I had yanked down to the ground succumbed and showed me what was under her habit. I was on a roll.

Now, I had bigger fish to fry. It began in religion class. Being a curious fellow, I had many questions when the nuns explained to me and the class that God was all knowing, and all powerful, and can see and hear everything that you do. So you better not lie, better be good, and better listen to the good Nuns.

To me, this sounded a lot like the Santa Claus story. You know the one, "He see's you when you're sleeping, he knows when you're awake, he knows if you've been bad or good, so be good for goodness sake". Well, as my older brother once put it, I was bad all last year and Santa still brought me lots of presents. Seizing the opportunity to attack, I began to ask the nuns questions. I started off easy so as to not draw attention or the ire of the nuns to my ultimate goal.

First question was.... If God already knows if you are going to be bad or good, then what's the point in being good? If God knows, it doesn't matter if I'm good or bad. Right? Well, the nuns look puzzled and huddled up. The stately one, Sister Charlotte, took the point and explained to the class that God gave us all the freedom to make those choices for ourselves and that it's entirely up to us to make those decisions. OK, good answer I thought but lets see if she can field this question.

Second set of questions...So, if God doesn't know what decision I'm going to make then he isn't all knowing is He? The nuns went crazy. They were mad. Much like a stirred up hornets nest. Their were nuns buzzing all over the hive. (Classroom) In the blink of my eyes, I was whisked up by my shirt collar and taken (Dragged) to the principles office yet again. I was told to sit in the waiting room chair and wait until the Pastor came in. Several minutes later he arrived and he and the nuns had a little huddle. All I heard was whispering and some words like God, smart Alec, habit, trouble maker, Irish kid, and the sorts.

They broke huddle and the Pastor had a one on one talk with me. He asked me why I would ask such questions. being the good honest Catholic kid that I was, I told him the truth. Well, part of it anyway. I told him about the Santa Claus tie in and how it sounded hust like God's powers. He almost chuckled and smiled at me. He then gave me some mumbo jumbo and sent me back to the nuns never really answering my original question. HA! I had again escaped Capital punishment. I was on a roll. Not even a call to my parents on this one.

Life was good. I was escorted back to the classroom and sat down with a feeling of smugness that I was beginning to enjoy. But only for a short while. The nuns explained to me that during my absence we had a test and since I was not present, that I had failed that test and that a note to my parents would be mailed home. At that moment, I made eye contact with the nuns letting them know that a line had been drawn in the sand and it was now war, and that I was playing to win, and that I would.

I waited a week or two to let things calm down to draw suspicion away from me, and then I asked my next question.

If Adam and Eve......Well, that is another story.....



LURKING ON THE GRASSY KNOLL

10/08/2007

Adam And Eve

Adam And Eve, The Nuns Version

In the last episode, I thought I had escaped punishment from the sadistic Catholic nuns but alas I was wrong. I vowed revenge against these nuns and I would start extracting it right now.

So there I was, (Circa, 1966) in religion class listening to the lesson taught by the nuns. This particular lesson was about Adam and Eve, the first human beings God created and put into the Garden of Eden and then given dominion over all the animals of the earth, the fish in the sea, and the birds in the sky. The lesson continued and the nun revealed that Adam and Eve had two children, Cain and Abel. This was my chance, the start of my revenge. I would quietly wait until the nun asked if there were any questions. Then I would strike.

Of course the nun finished the lesson and indeed asked that fateful question. Slowly, indignantly, I raised my hand cautiously, not wanting to make the nun suspicious. The stage was set. The nun slowly scanned the classroom defiantly looking for raised hands. Only a single hand was raised. Mine. The nun narrowed her scan and rotated her head towards my upright hand and began to speak. “It looks like Patrick has a question for the class,” she said. OK, I thought to myself, perspiring a little, anticipating the outcome of my question.

Out it came. Loud and clear. Thee ultimate classic religious question of all time. Before i asked the question, I needed a little back story to fortify my stance so I began by saying.... The bible said Cain and Abel had children. If God only created Adam and Eve, and they had only two sons, Cain and Abel, then who were their wives, and who were the mothers of their children?

The gauntlet had been dropped. The nun stared at me in disbelief. The classroom was as quiet as a tomb. All the sound and motion had been quickly sucked away. It was a moment suspended in time. The nun was frozen in her place.

My question had implied that the Catholic religion was based on incest and the real reason why we are all considered brothers and sisters was because Eve had to be the mother to Cain and Abel’s children.

A minute later, which felt more like an hour, the nun descended upon me, grabbing me by my arm, lifting me from my school desk, and briskly and quietly dragged me out of the room and of course down to the principles office. Sacrilege was the only word the nun spoke to me. In an instant, a gaggle of nuns gathered, and murmuring became more prominent. I was told to sit in the chair and wait for the Pastor to speak to me.

Fifteen minutes later, the Pastor made his entrance, ever looking like Count Dracula with his black loose flowing cape with a bright blood red satin inset. A black buttoned up collarless shirt, and slicked back black hair completed the ensemble. If he had said “Good evening”, I probably would have fainted.

Our talk began the usual way with the Pastor lecturing me on upsetting my class room and the nuns with such questions but to put my mind at ease, he would answer my question for me. He explained that Adam and Eve was a parable of sorts to explain Gods creation of man and the completion of Genesis. Besides, the Pastor asked me, “Don’t you remember the story of Noah and his great ark and how God flooded the earth for man had sinned and had to be punished and only spared Noah, his wife, and his three sons and wives?” The Pastor continued and explained that if I reread the story, I would understand that God cleansed the earth of mans sin and what happened between Eve and her sons did not matter anymore.

Feeling satisfied, the Pastor said the only thing left to do was call home to my parents to give them a progress report on my days activities and that I could return to my class and resume my learning.

As I got up from my chair, something had dawned on me about the story of Noah and his ark and the selection of two sets of animals each to preserve them after the waters have receded. If all the people on the earth perished in the great flood then……

Before I finished my thought, I reeled around looking for the Pastor to ask just one more question but a nun, who I recognized as the hall monitor nun came into the room and was told to escort me back to my cell, err, class room. The Noah question would have to wait for now. Enough damage had been instilled on the nuns for one day. I again would lay in the weeds waiting for the right time to strike. And strike I would. But that is yet another story, another legend.