A VAMPIRE ARMY ENCAMPS AT CIRCUS TOWNE 1.........WHO WANTS FREEZE DRIED POP CORN?

So some people think the Enemy occasionally consumes humans. And in certain locales, Baylah is wrapped in the quiet safety of the Jersey Pin Barrens. In one world Jonathon and Sarah are strolling through the picturesque old, stone quarters beyond the Jerusalem City Walls. And in another they prepare to face the Enemy, in company with other stalwart life-eaters.

Such is reality. Such is the omniverse. We live our lives smeared across creation. There is the you who died in infancy. And the you who conquered nations. All possibilities  eventually  play out. Haven't you ever suspected that? Remember those isolated mornings? You'd wake up and just know. This is not your life. They are not your family. That is not your face. But the similarities were sufficient and you made do. So this dog drooled more than usual. And that special pair of jeans fit perfectly. (that part was good) The boss actually smiled and waved. And the neighbor's cat got out and peed on your car. Well, surprise, surprise. You've been 'plane shifting.' It happens all the time. Would you like an example? Think of a radio station. None of that Sirius stuff, or whatever they call it. I'm talking about a regular, old fashioned AM, job. You know how the signal slides around? One minute it's at say 1210. Then you pick it up at 1170. Same show. Oh, it sounds a little different. Over there it's a bit raspy. Over here it's very weak. Well, think about each frequency as one possible universe. And pretend the entire AM band is the whole omniverse. Sometimes your favorite sports guy is in one world and sometimes he's in another........ But you know what?..... You're the same way...... You all are. True, it is hard to slide so far off the mark to a point where things are radically different. That's why you don't see pigs fly. And you hardly ever run into anybody shooting monkeys out their ass......... But some people do.....

Now in this part of the 'forest' Jonathon and Sarah are up there with the others. The vampires, I mean. N.A.S.A. unveiled a new power source. They didn't want to. Not under this president. But current  conditions required it.. So the ion-turbo made it to the Moon and back in one hour. No landing. Just a fast 'whip around' like a boardwalk thrill ride. Five hundred thousand miles in sixty minutes. Four days to the Jovian System. Nine days to Saturn. One day to Mars. At this rate, gotta be Vulcans out there somewhere.

A crew made up from volunteers representing all nations went out to Mars. The 'transported' hockey stadium was still up there. Pressurizing the place would be relatively easy. Seal it all up under a 'shrink-to-fit' rubberized barrier. Pump up water from the saturated Marian permafrost. Assemble  some handy-dandy nuclear reactors (the travel size, like they sell at Walmart). And Badda-Bing! We're ready for business. Even the games in the arcade lit up. Had to carry out and cremate thousands of bodies in a specially designed, non-contaminating corpse oven. Old speculative plans found in a seventy year old European safe helped with that. And waa-laa!.... Circus Towne 1 on Mars was born. You got a better name for a facility like that? They even had stores of freeze-dried food up there. What do you think they were selling in some of those concessions?

So humanity had a platform. We had a base in the heavens.... a place to confront the Foe. Best of all, that Foe wasn't lookin'.

Papa and some of the old, powerful life-eaters (it was decided never  to use the word 'vampire') led the others through rigorous sublimation drills. First through sand. Then through water. On to soil. And finally stone. Most made it. Some did not. The human medics didn't know how to deal with mashed vampire tissue. But four or five unusual vampires from India and Pakistan actually had medical degrees and were quite adept at making the jump from mortal  to immortal flesh. Those injured quickly healed. And a series of rushed  'skype' hook-ups between the base and the Anti-Enchantment-Bureau didn't hurt either. Remember, Doctor Franklin knows a lot about the 'night folks.'

Sarah couldn't quite sublimate through gaseous media, or vacuums. A lot of them had that problem. It's hard for the body to 'grasp' onto such tenuous, widely spaced particles. But the sleek (and really quite flattering) form-fitting suits made things a little better. Sure, they had to wear Spiderman-like head and face covers. A lot of them did not like that. Still, you gotta do what you gotta do. This is the army, Mister Dracula. Ain't got no mahogany coffins here. Some of the dramatic, Mittle-Europan types actually believed in that crap... You know, the heel clickers and hand kissers? But they soon came around. The military made arrangements with a few, little 'wedding cake' principalities over there to give 'em all titles. Made 'em all counts, or grafs, or something. They like all that 'noble honor' stuff. It shut ;em right up. You know how McDonalds makes every skinny kid an assistant manager? Same thing.

But meanwhile, back on Earth, the Skyward Sea was continuing to condense. The fog thickened. And in some places pools of briny, salt water orbited the planet like huge, tattered, magic carpets...

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SNOW FALLS ON THE PYRAMIDS.... AND IN JERUSALEM TOO

Such things have happened before. Other worlds have perished. The 'Enemy' has played in other cornfields too. Imagine life on a benevolent orb, snuffed out. Imagine that place destroyed, pulverized to dust. Please know that there was an Earth1 before the Earth2 we live on today. It endured for perhaps a billion, or a billion and a half years. Rains fell. Oceans were born. Winds blew. Clouds set sail across the sky. And tiny vital forms took hold under water. They were living things. They ate. They bred. They swam. They spawned.

But one morn a stranger commandeered the heavens. A huge dark star fell out of hell and  tumbled toward the ground., expanding and swelling and eating up the sky. Gravitational forces scoured our baby world, rending it's skin and melting its bones. Seas boiled and mountains bled molten blood upon the plains.

And then, in the last moments, the sky disappeared, as the errant world came down and kissed the baby Earth, stealing its soul and erasing its past. This terrifying embrace went on for hours. Two giant flints, scraped against each other, igniting a flame that purified what was left.

Then the errant world-killer exploded. It's bleached, white bones danced up into the heavens, encircling our dead orb in a ghostly shroud that spun and swirled, giving  rise to The Moon. And a new Earth was born. And new rains poured down, filling the low places and bringing back the seas. Rarefied fluids merged together ushering a new age of fertility. Life came back. But it was different life. It was our life. And thus were humans born.

Was that an act of God? Was it all just a matter of chance? Or did a certain strain of 'creative' aliens do it? (Sigh), well, I am going to leave that choice up to you. But know this. The 'Song' Entities flickering about  our star system, vacillated for a while. Their natures can be fickle. Enchanted beings are like that. So the Oberon who led them changed his mind and let them know. Earth was doomed. Is it only that they required our territory for their own? No. Some may have thought so in the beginning. Cosmic gossip seemed to run that way. But rumors are often wrong. Our celestial family, our sun and all her children, threw off their galactic garden. A bit of pruning was in order.A snip here. An annihilation there. Gather ye rose buds while ye may, 'cause they ain't makin' roses no more.

Conditions on Earth remained livable.... for the time being. But a troubling dream began to trickle out into reality. For somewhere in another nearby dimension, the Earth never formed. A larger, massive water world filled our space. And it was a trivial matter for the 'Song' Entities to sing their arias and pierce the universal veil. Moisture from that other realm  bled into our skies, filling the days and nights with impenetrable mists. Warming solar rays failed to reach us now. The rapidly coalescing blanket bounced them back out into the void, as two hundred miles above our heads  a celestial sea was born. And  dark, green. storm tossed waves entombed us.

But I am stirring the time pot. True, the clock has been set, though the hours haven't all quite ticked by yet.

Thus speaks Zebulon. And I watch with the destructive delight of a thirteen year old boy.

Bovine masses milling about on the surface of humanity's one home did not notice much. They never do. But Doctor Franklin did...... And so did the vampires..... Their confrontation with the 'Entities' was pushed forward....
And the Pines grew colder. And the air grew damp..... Snow fell on demonstrators down in Tahir Square. And white flakes gilded the Western Wall as well.......

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BEAUTY IS AS BEAUTY DOES..... VAMPIRES SHARE THE BOUNTY

We're half way 'round the Sun since last THANKSGIVING. This episode ran back then. Can't post a new one tonight. Must retire  (ZZZzzzZZZ) a bit earlier. But please wander through this  magical epistle. We know you all didn't read it the first time. But that's OK. Hopefully, you'll look at it now.... THANK YOU .....And ENJOY the WEEK END..........Jonathon went after Sarah. He knew she could feel him, if she was focused enough. But her mind was on other things. How careful she was. How neat and precise. Each tiny, glass vial prepared in just the right way. Twelve drops in each. Sealed with the same. fine, Portuguese cork. Like perfume samples in an opulent emporium.

She slipped into the evening crowd, a tall, slim, American pilgrim (it does not seem right to call them 'tourists' in this town) and made her way to a narrow, cramped alley behind a small marketplace. Strange scents peppered the night. Yemenite Jews lived here, some Ethiopian believers too. But Sarah wasn't picking up the spices. She tasted the sickness. Two doors down, upstairs, above a stall selling some sort of street food. The old woman behind the worn, marble slab kept it surprisingly clean.

Sarah approached, looked into her eyes and smiled. She held up one finger and slid a small bill across the counter.  The old woman beamed , as she repeatedly bowed her head, before turning to fill the order. Then our young vampirina deftly uncorked two vials, allowing the contents to run down into a small condiment pot. She replaced the glass lid and waited. The woman gave her what looked like a beef taco wrapped in a soft tortilla. It did smell appetizing... to humans anyway. Sarah thanked her and left.

But that little, magically improved, condiment pot would work wonders. Two cases of cancer would disappear. Childhood colds and influenza would be milder this year. And an ancient, bed-ridden woman would nibble at a warm meal, bought at considerable expense, by a loving family. Three days hence, she'd be up and about, preparing the dress for her granddaughter's wedding.

Jonathon caught up with his beloved as she exited the alley. He hugged her. She slipped her arm through his and they walked off. Few words were said. No kiss. This was the Old Quarter of Jerusalem and public displays of affection were decidedly outre. He went in, as she 'helped' children at a clinic (vampires are quite adept at what we would call hypnosis) and contributed a bit of his own essence to a young man recuperating from an explosion. Whether recipient or creator of the blast did not matter. Now he was well. And now he was grateful.

And in this way they passed the American Thanksgiving festival, deep in the land responsible for it's Feast of Tabernacles inspiration.The 'Enemy' was quiet that night. The sky quite calm. The streets quite peaceful. And they were thankful for that.
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JUMP OUTTTA THAT DEAD BOX AND SALUTE, SOLDIER!

Edith been spinnin' and singin'. That's when she throws out her arms and twirls around till she gets all dizzy. Then when her brains are good and fizzy, she starts trillin' out some kinda melody in a old timey, nobody knows it anymore language. The Red Paints like when she does that. They gather 'round and pay close attention. One of 'em, the taller one, nods his head  to keep time with the 'music.' Her husband, Mr. Edith, don't like it. He calls it Ima Sumac shit. She was a real high, warbly , Peruvian folk singer from the 1950's. Hit all these screechy, high notes like aliens was doin' stuff to boof a her boobies at the same time. One worked treble. One worked base. Only they never got 'em tuned right at the same time.That's why he is out with the dogs right now. It is pitch black out there. No moon. No stars. Too cloudy for that. I suppose the sky does have a little bit of ashy-coal iridescence., but that only makes what's down by the ground seem darker. Dogs don't mind though. eyes is just somethin' extra to them. They see  through their nostrils anyway.

Them Red Paints whisperin' to each other. That willkravitz, that guy what taps this all out for them, is listenin' real close. You know he gonna put it down in that machine when they all done. So far they sayin' somethin' bout dead folks uncroakin' theyselves and comin' back to life. Not the fleshy parts, just the ghosty ones. Gonna be an army of the dead standin' shoulder to shoulder wit them vampirinos and vampirinas. Sort a like a Wes Craven force field. Now I cannot provide you with all the particulars, 'cause they ain't been spit out yet. And I am waitin' to see what I'm gone do. Who am I? What do folks call me? Well, never you mind. Just call me Mister Never You Mind...... Look, I ain't no stranger. We met before. Remember that time? You know me. You know Minnie. You know all of us. Guess we gonna get drafted in that army too.

But I can tell you a little bit 'bout what's gone on in Zion. I am in communication with particularly reverent dead folks snakin' through the atmosphere in that vicinity. Everybody still runnin' 'round messin' with that magic, crystal xylophone they got. It is pretty. And it is impressive. But I do  not know if they will get it to work. Fella here with me who croaked back in Old Atlantis say they tried playin' 'round with crystals too. Gonna use 'em to zap ships' asses wit lazer beams, or somethin'. Managed  to pop a few sacks a seed corn, but nuttin' happened to them ships' asses.

Doctor Franklin got his people all worked up. They laptop-talkin' (you know... them magic machines?) wit like minded fellas all over the world. That's why they started thinkin' 'bout us... the dead folks, I mean. Science guy in Latvia (he has a great armonica too) brought back his grandma's old canasta ladies. And grandma wasn't too pleased with the change a scenery, 'cause she in the toilet when it happen. Dead folks don't have  to use no toilets. But the opportunity is open to us if we chose to do so. All a matter of personal preference. Some folks like singin' in a Heavenly Choir. Some folks like takin' a good dump. But we do have the ability to jazz up various frequencies. That why they hear our voices on old radios and walkie-talkies. People hopin' we can work a hoo-doo on 'em Martians, or whatever they are you all got..... We shall see....We shall see.......

Sarah out resurrectin', or almost resurrectin' mostly dead folks in hospitals and in dumpsters. Hell, yeah. They got dumpsters in Jerusalem. What you think they do with trash here... make it go WHOOSH??. She give 'em bitty little dribbles a her blood and after two or three heartbeats they all smiley faced again. Folks call her The Miracle Lady. Sorta like they did when Baylah played a similar role outback a that Olive Garden in Philly. Look, what else is a still believin' vampire supposed to do?

'Cause if spiritual goomers like them be walkin' 'round..... how can there NOT be God?

Nitey nite, all you humans. Relax and go to sleep. Don't worry 'bout what is and what is not. You gonna die soon... You gonna know....

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PARADISE FOR A HEALED VAMPIRE.... LIFE-EATERS CONFRONT A RHAPSODY

Baylah came to stay with us in the Pines. She's been well for a while. And she tried joining the others in Jerusalem but what was she going to do there? They got enough 'special' people. So she sublimated all the way back home. Some vampires can do that. They travel by night, passing through the ether like a dream. People often mistake them for ghosts. Some blame 'floaters.' You've probably seen them. Don't worry about it. They hardly ever kill the innocent. Well, almost hardly ever.

The atmosphere here agrees with her. Remember, she was raised in the deserts of West Africa, so the damp, chill woods are quite novel. In her faith, water equals Paradise. The Pine Barrens are heaven to her. She dotes on the juveniles. She loves the elves and cherubs. Edith is teaching her how to knit and crochet. They're making warm, little outfits for the cherubs and thick, cozy sweaters for the elves.

We saw a young Jersey Devil in the woods last night. They never let you see the little ones. One of the Red Paint guys says that's because they look more human then. The long, horsey face doesn't show til after puberty. Oh, they still have hooves. They're still covered with fur from say like two or three inches below the navel down. Remember the fauns from Narnia? Mr. Numb-Nuts or whatever his name was? He could of been one of them. Except by his age the Devil kids already look horsey. Edith's husband threw it an apple. They like a sweet apple. Carrots too. I guess it's the horse-tongue taste buds they have. Edith says she's gonna make sweaters for the Devil kids too. But he didn't look cold. I don't think it bothers them. Not that the elves and cherubs can get sick. They're vampires. They don't get sick. But warm temperatures make 'em feel more comfy.

Them Alien Enemies still pullin' funny stuff. Not much, but they're still playin' around. Picked up a stadium full a hockey fans. No, not a stadium. You know. What do you call the places where they have basketball games and hockey games? Well, they grabbed one up in Minnesota or Manitoba or someplace. And set it down on Mars.Seems like they must have preserved the atmosphere during the trip. Some of the quantum guys say the folks inside probably never even felt nothing. Went in. Bought food. Sat down. Watched the game. And then BOOM. Some dope pushed open a door to leave and fell flat on his rapidly desiccating face. Can you imagine walkin' out onto the rust colored gravel fields of Mars? Lookin' up into the orange skies of Barsoom? Gasping for breath in a rarified atmosphere four times thinner than Everest? Only about eighty or ninety rushed out through the doors. Know how we know? The aliens set 'em down right by one a our little Wall-E probes. The cute, buzzy guy saw the whole thing. Two hundred and eighty heartbeats later, N.A.S.A. saw it too. It went up on the web automatically. Kids in school saw it. Half a them thought it was just a new, cool video game. The blood runnin' out the eyes graphics were a big hit. They clapped when bellies exploded.. Eighteen thousand people died. Experts claim some of 'em probably survived two days or so, if they were holed up deep inside, like in an air pocket or something. And according to estimates, at least a third of 'em were children.

Doctor Franklin's runnin' a series of experiments with the Great Armonica he's got here at home.Talks  to  guys in other places too. They wanna see if it's possible to 'flutter' the Earth (yes, the whole, entire planet) out of this stinkin' dimension and into another. Gotta be a more or less similar one, with a solar system like ours, but minus an Earth. You know we can't have two marbles spinning in the same channel. Mathematicians say it's entirely probable such places exist. So they're lookin'.  With computers, I mean.

The old patriot tools around on his little battery buggy. You know, what grannies and grampies ride? Hums 'When you Wish Upon A Star' all the time. The princes of the sea, the great whales, are singing a new song too. They think this thing's a done deal.

Meanwhile, some a them vampires over in Jerusalem are fixin' to face off with them 'Song' people. They didn't make all them special, stretchy X-Men-like body suits for nothing, you know. So it's time to go 'do or die' for God and species. Will it help? Depends on how many  a them 'frequency bastards' they got. Some mega-geeks think there's only a handful. But try fightin' a guy with a left hook as big as the sky.

This is Zebulon. You been talkin' to Zebulon, Ace Number One, Disembodied Spirit Deluxe. Am I afraid for humanity? Am I scared for the Earth? ...... Hell, no! I'm already dead!.......

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READY TO GO 'ALL IN'? WILLING TO GAMBLE? WANNA RISK IT ALL?

Lailah understood. She knew it all. Everything she saw was but illusion. The light existed because she expected it. The keratin-like shell forming the skin of this worldlet was not real. Great Saturn still loomed overhead, accompanied by a retinue of moons. She recognized the details from N.A.S.A. footage on the web. Was it true? Was she there, nine hundred million miles from home?

Other beings floated by. Some seemed human. Some did not. All eyes, or what served as eyes, locked upon the centrality of this place. And her physical form began to dissolve as she approached. Tiny particles of matter streamed back from her body, as if ripped by the solar wind. Yet she felt to pain, but only a rich, all encompassing, golden warmth. And then she heard the 'chimes.'

These creatures are made from songs. The beings we call 'Enemy' resonate through creation like avenging echos. Is it us they resent, or our solid form? And she tingled as a symphony of frequencies enveloped her.  While back on Earth, her father heard her call. He bowed his head and prayed.

Learned men and women gathered to share knowledge. They met in a partitioned off, smaller banquet room of a Jerusalem hotel. The location was secure enough. No need for the complex in the desert. This was just a discussion. Somme of the senior vampires were there too. Their particular abilities may prove useful. A woman from Edinburgh had a plan. She wanted to use the experimental ion drive engines, send a vampiric crew out to Europa, or Saturn, or wherever 'they' were and have them sublimate through the 'enemy' core, in an effort to shred them up. Papa said - You're gonna need a lot of vampires. Do you know how 'big' these entities might be? Lady, that would be like sticking pins in a rhino.....There was silence for a few heartbeats. Then a man put down his glass of shav borscht, cleared his throat (remember, he was drinking shav borscht) and asked - Then what would you have us do? .............. Papa exhaled, collected his thoughts for a moment and said - Move the ship. Did you ever play Strateego, or Battleship, or whatever it's called? The juvenile examples of my form enjoy such pass times. And they know how  to re-position a threatened stronghold...........The representative of a Shang Hai think tank said - Excuse me, sir, what would you have us do, move the whole Earth?........... Papa smiled and replied through prayerful fingers - Well, that, my friend, is a distinct possibility.

Just a few leagues away, Jonathon helped Sarah undress, as they prepared to rest. The dead were safe in morgues. The injured stowed in hospitals. And the media kept in protective custody. No one in authority wanted this story to get out. Even in those locations where the Armonicas actually worked, reporters were still prevented from reporting. This was too big. The stakes were too high. What am I saying 'too high'? This is it. This is the end of the game. You ever watch 'em play poker on TV? You ever see where Chris Ferguson stands up and goes 'all in'? Well, wide up, assholes, 'cause there ain't no other hands after this..... Unless we win........... So Jonathon and his consort removed their clothing and snuggled into the fine, Egyptian cotton sheets. There were no windows. The complex ran underground. But it was still thought best to keep the vampires to their regular schedule. Sleep away the light. Worry through the dark. Their assigned space was like a small, private compartment on a stationary Orient Express. No motion rocked our twosome toward their nap.

He tried to nip her earlobe. She turned away. He massaged her abdomen. She ignored him. Now please do not suppose Sarah was angry. She was not. But his path was not hers. She resented his absences. The times he went away. The nights he spoke to others. His methods and his dreams. Something deep inside told her we'd survive. The world would go on. The enemies eventually forgotten. Was it magic? ....... Who cares?....

Relationships among life-eaters move slowly, like ice breakers through the Bering Sea. Centuries stand in for seasons. And millennia pass like years. So she laid there, and silently accommodated him, while her mind framed other things.....

Feel that tickle on your leg? See the spark that isn't there? Parallel worlds are everywhere. Some quite like us. Some quite not. Be happy with the one you got.......... Berma Shave.....

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UGLY DAYS ON PLANET EARTH.... AND THEY LOOKIN' FOR VOLUNTEERS TO SHOVEL UP GODZILLA SH*T

Edith and the others are watching a country music special on PBS. It's from the Ryman Auditorium in Nashville. In case you do not know it, that is Temple Mount for American Music. The Grand Ole Opry started there generations ago. Some of my people came up to Philadelphia from the Virginia-NorthCarolina border lands. That was more than one hundred years ago. Hey Good Lookin' was my favorite as a toddler. Shame, don't see too many two dollar bills no more. Funny how cultures mix. I been lookin' for a gospel Kol Nidre service ever since. Not that the original ain't holy roller enough, but a little variation never hurt. You know what I mean?

The elves and cherubs don't go out flying much. They are scared. Crazy sh*t is happenin' in the Pines. We had some more 'bloody eyed' people runnin' 'round. Nobody we know. Nobody close to us. But we still heard about it. Snatched a little four seater outta the air too. Headin' for Atlantic City, I guess. God knows where it is now.

Edith says them as we call 'The Enemy' is testin' things out. Or maybe just makin' up their minds about us? She sucks up a lotta images. Gets 'em from the air. We heard what happened outside a Jerusalem. Saw it on my laptop. They got secret sites you don't know about..... real secret. You have to click onto two or three other places to see 'em. And Israel wasn't the only one. Those crystal, harmonic contraptions must be real touchy, 'cause about seventyfive  percent of 'em went kah-pooey.  Sixteen ballerinas from the Bolshoi Ballet and the Czarina Alexandra too came cartwheelin' outta the sky over Jakarta. Lucky they was over water, 'cause  now the Mother of All the Russians is recuperating in a Singapore hospital eating Geno's Pizza Rolls and drinkin' Pepsi Cola. Makes her gassy, but who the hell's gonna say? Already got some agents down from Voladivostok   tryin' to snatch her up and smack her back down on the throne. And poor Tokyo has to deal with a wild Godzilla for about the umpteenth time. Only now it's real. Can you imagine sweepin' up all that Godzilla sh*t? Damn, that bitch is over four hundred feet tall. Story is Buffalo Bill and his Congress of Rough Riders came gallopin' down a moonbeam right in front a the two thousand bastids waitin' to see the Armonica try-out, so they just stayed in they seats and enjoyed the show. Hear Kelly Clarkson's gonna join the act in Vegas.

You know how people are. They just shove they heads in the dirt and take things as they come. Sure, some a them survival types is stockin' up on petrified tuny fish and condensed beer, but most a that crap probably gonna show up at a tail-gatin' or something, or maybe like for trick-a-treats

Doctor Franklin calls on the phone every day or so. He likes the little ones. Wants a keep in touch with the elves and cherubs. But he talks a lot. You know how he is.Intelligent, but not too smart.  That's why Jeffrey Lurie don't have him up to no Super Box no more. Hell wid it. Let him  watch the game at Chickie n Pete's wid everybody else. Juss another old fart in an Eagle sweatshirt. Am I right? Mermaid-Hag likes the games too. She'll sit in her little scooter, so that ain't no trouble. 'Cept she keeps losin' her blanket and yankin' them shells off. Ninety six percent a the folks in there might be too drunk to notice, but  management don't like it. Damn, you can't even nurse a baby in that joint. Like if you were a lactating woman, I mean.

So either we hoomin beans are gonna find a way to confront this elusive menace from beyond the stars, or we ain't.

but I gotta stop now.... Greg Allman's on.........
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