create a reality where there were only males, which he so obviously preferred? Iâm not totally sure, but my belief is that God had a powerful âfeminineâ side that needed to be expressed. He was terribly uncomfortable with itâscared of being homosexual, I suppose, though why that scared him I still donât know. But the way the Old Man treated Eve was unkind. The poor creature had just been yanked into existence, fully formed, an adult, given no time to grow up, and was now facing her creatorâwho seemed to
dislike
her. How can I help her, I instantly wondered?
The Old Man had placed a tree he called the âtree of knowledge of good and evilâ (he was pretentious that way) in the middle of the garden the humans lived in. He told the man, Adam, that if he ate of this tree, heâd instantly die. I was pretty sure that was bullshit, that the point of this tree wasnât âknowledge,â the point was â
obedience
.â And I told the woman so.
The Old Manâs reaction to the humansâ eating the fruit was fascinating. He turned white with rage and literally stomped down from heaven and around the garden, yelling at the humans, âWhere are you?â (He loved to claim that he âknew everything,â but stuff like this kind of gave him away.) The man and the woman, poor things, were resting in each otherâs arms when the Old Manfound them. He stood there, hands on his hips, a hard, cold gleam in his eye. But underneath his anger I saw something else: a tiny little smile. The Old Man was happy about the way this had gone. He
liked
being mad at the humans, I suddenly understood; he
wanted
to blame and punish them. âYou will WORK!â he shouted at Adam, and I wanted to point out, âHeâs
already
been working, itâs a meaningless threat!â But I didnât. âYou will suffer giving birth,â he snarled at the woman. âAnother meaningless threat,â I wanted to say. âYou were already going to have a hard time giving birth, Eve, for purely physiological reasons!â
But before I could speak, the Old Man turned on me. It was the first time heâd ever looked directly at me and it was.. strange. He looked imperious, utterly superiorâbut there was also a palpable undercurrent of insecurity in his eyes. âAs for
you
, serpent,â he said. â
You
will crawl on the ground!â I almost laughed. âSerpents
already
crawl on the ground,â I thought to myself. The Old Man followed that up with, âI will also make sure that women hate snakes!â which was laughable too, because I was
possessing
a snake, I wasnât
actually
a snake. Why was he threatening all snakes? It would have made sense for him to say something like, âHenceforth, all humans will despise you, Satan!â But to issue empty threats to snake-kind? Weak.
As Adam and Eve exited the garden, the Old Man looked at me again and spoke, this time in a lower, quieter voiceâless for effect. âNow that heâs become like one of us,â he said, nodding to Adam, âwhat if he should eat from the tree of life and live forever?â I stared back at him and thought to myself: âWhat the hell are you even
talking
about, Old Man? There is no tree of life. Why
would
there be? Who would it be
for
?â But hereâs the thing with the Old Man: once he said something, he would never, and I mean never, back down. Heâd keep digging his feet in deeper and deeper to prove his original point.
In order to prove that there really
was
a tree of life to protect, the Old Man now created what appeared to be flying man-servants. They were muscular guys with wings dressed in shortwhite robes, all of them quite handsome and athletic. The Old Man gave them swords and told them to chop off Adamâs head if he tried to sneak back into the garden.
THREE
With regard to that first family of human beings, Iâve often