Now it can be revealed: A respectable researcher has come around to my view that kudzu could be the answer to our fuel problems. Back in May, I wrote a column proposing that scientists inject some sugar cane DNA into the kudzu vine, thus producing an inexhaustible source of ethanol. Now, a fellow named Rowan Sage, a professor at the University of Toronto, says kudzu can produce the ethanol without that booster shot from sugar cane.

The secret is in its roots. Kudzu roots contain rich deposits of starch, which can be converted into ethanol.

It had never occurred to me that kudzu had roots. I figured that roots would only hold it back as it raced across the landscape. But in reviewing my past columns on the subject, I found that a kudzu root can weigh as much as 100 pounds and can lie up to 20 feet underground.

For years I've been pre-occupied with Kudzu and its persistent threat to the South. For much of that time, I've searched out ways to stop the vine, with an occasional pause to savor kudzu jelly and admire baskets woven from the kudzu vine. I even scribbled a few verses about kudzu and invited readers to share their kudverse with me. My own effort:

"I'm feelin' sad and blue
'Cause I lost my Kudzu Sue;
Her smile was as sweet as summer wine,
But before I could woo her
The kudzu overgrew her,
And now my love lies underneath the vine."

"I see that kudzu coming;
It's climbing up my tree,
And if I don't start running
It will soon be climbing me;
It covered my Ford Fairlane,
It slithered under my front door,
It swallered my best birddog,
I'll never hear his bark no more."

My fear was that the wasp larvae would miss their cue and the caterpillar would go on gobbling kudzu until it grew to monster proportions and ate the South alive.

In another column, I tried to imagine what would happen if DNA from poison ivy were to be implanted accidentally in a kudzu vine. The very thought had me itching.

The city of Chattanooga came up with a more effective, if more prosaic, solution when it launched goats into the kudzu that threatened to cover up historic Missionary Ridge. To protect the goats against marauding dogs, Chattanooga sent in a bunch of mean-tempered llamas. Last I heard, Cemetery Ridge still stood above the kudzu, and the goats and llamas were well-fed and happy.

Now my suggestion is that we call off the goats, llamas and looper moths and repeal the anti-kudzu ordinance in Santa Rosa County. Don't try to weaken the kudzu; pump it up with steroids if you wish.

If Sage and his colleagues are correct, the South can become the Saudi Arabia of biofuels. With kudzu providing the fuel for our economy, Midwest corn can be profitably used in cattle feed, grits, cornbread, corn flakes and bourbon. We won't have to shove food prices upward by diverting food grains into ethanol.