Monday 28 July 2008

Another Thing My Mouth Can't Do

Another thing I can no longer do now I have braces...whistle. I had the urge to trill a little tune last night, puckered up and was shocked when nothing but 'pfft' came out.

I'm not a big whistler, but it's nice to have the option, you know?

Tuesday 22 July 2008

My Golden Book of Bible Stories

$86 million! That is what World Youth Day cost us NSW tax payers, according to the Sydney Morning Herald. And that doesn’t include another $42 million for use of the Randwick Racecourse. Ouch, ouch, ouch! Why don’t they just give the money to ME?

Do they think that the benefits of having these visitors here will outweigh the $128 million spent? I heard they hardly spent anything here at all. I wonder what the thinking was behind that.

Still, there’s been lots of fuzziness and good spirits around. As soon as you got into the city last week you saw clusters and brightly dressed youth, waving flags, and singing and squeaking excitedly. You’d have had to have been a massive jerk not to be happy for them, really. It was kind of heart warming.

So now the Pope has gone, the Press is slowly discontinuing its fawning coverage, and the young geeks of the world – instantly recognizable by the orange backpacks and the obligatory acoustic guitar player issued to each group of pedestrians – are going home. I mean seriously, what is wrong with these kids?

My own religious education was confined to a lone Jehovah’s Witnesses’ publication. (I know, it could have ended really badly). When I was around four years old, my parents hired a builder called Barry to do some work on their lovely London home. As they told me some years later, after he’d finished his last day of work on the house, he told them he was a Jehovah’s witness, and asked he could give their daughter (me) a book of Bible stories. They said “All right then”, and so little Sprite was presented with a gold coloured hard-back book, with the words ‘My Book of Bible Stories’ etched on the front in shiny red letters.

I don’t remember really reading the book until I was several years older and living in Saudi Arabia. Due to its size, it sat on the lowest level of my bookshelf with the other hardback books, mostly fairy tales, Care Bear stories and illustrated ballet books. Now, I didn’t get it out very often, but every now and then I’d scan my big selection of books, looking for something a bit different that I hadn’t already read three times in the last year, and maybe I’d be in the mood for something a bit different, a bit off the wall so to speak, and I’d reach for the golden book of Bible stories.

This book held a bit of fascination for me. It started with the cover, plain and tasteful, with no pictures or hints of what was inside. It seemed so adult and mysterious, not aimed at children at all, or at least, aimed at children of another age. So many things were weird about this book. The forbidding, adult tone. The drawings, the good guys in pastel colours and the bad ladies who all looked like the original Charlie’s Angels, perpetually laughing drunkenly, flashing tiny white teeth. I had so many questions. Why were they all Arabs, and yet so different from the Arabs I knew? There wasn’t a mosque in sight! And why did the Paradise on Earth that God promised look like a Safari Park? I didn’t know anyone who’d like to spend eternity in small nuclear family groups, crouching behind bushes and pointing at lions. (I still don’t).

Even at seven or so, I could tell from the tone of the book that it was somehow meant to convey a moral message. But the God in these tales was angry, spiteful and capricious; the messages went against much that I had been raised to believe was right. I also sensed that whoever had written it meant it to be a historical record. Yet I had never heard a whisper of these stories in history class at school. Surely historians conferred occasionally??!

But I was willing to suspend disbelief. It was, after all, shelved with my fairy tales.

Perhaps the most fascinating thing about the book was the mysteries it held. I just didn’t understand a lot of it. One story stands out in my memory, though I don’t remember the details. (Folks, I really don’t know my Bible). A 70’s looking couple were lying together on a sofa, asleep in smug abandon. Jehovah, tirelessly interfering bastard that he was, got enraged (again) and smote them, or something like that, or condemned them to perpetual crop failure, or something, I really don’t remember. The point was, God had forbidden people to lie together unless they were married. (The whole thing was so deliciously unsuitable for innocent children!)

Boy, did I ponder that one. I would look at the picture of the sofa, and remember the many times I had spotted my mother catching an afternoon lap in the living room, and quietly curled up beside her. I assumed that the author was getting at stuff like that. But what in the world were they talking about? I thought and thought and thought!

God – ‘Jehovah’ – seemed so vindictive and evil. He only liked incredibly obedient people, who farmed a lot and stood around gazing adoringly at young children and animals; men with salt and pepper beards and women with big eyes. He really hated shorter bearded men and brassy haired women, who sprawled around in large crowds in Roman-style villas, waving goblets in the air and flashing tiny teeth in slack smiles. I couldn’t imagine wanting to be in either group, but I reasoned that if I had ‘Jehovah’ breathing fire down my neck, I’d surely join group #1 out of self-protection. For me, group #2’s only real wrongdoing was their criminal stupidity!

Who wrote it? Where did it come from? Was it old or modern? Did someone somehow actually still believe in it? (My mother taught me basically that Christianity was something people used to believe in Olden Times, but it was now only relevant as a shared cultural background). But it seemed like somebody did, because it was always asking questions like, "Wouldn't it have been better if so-and-so had listened to Jehovah?" (Me: "It would be even better if Jehovah didn't have anger control issues") and "Wouldn't you like to stand around for eternity stroking a sheep?" ("No"), etc. And what did it mean when it said people shouldn't 'lie together'? Baffled, I’d think and think and think.

Then I’d put the book away and forget about it for another year or so, when I’d tackle it again with the benefit of a little more age, with a slightly different take, and the whole process would begin again.

P.S. After writing this, I did a quick search of the Internet, and guess what, the book’s on Wikipedia. You can check it out here. Go ahead. You know you want to.

Thursday 10 July 2008

World Some Youth Day

So, World Youth Day is coming to Sydney next week. The Sydney Morning Herald tells us the faithful have begun to arrive in droves. Today’s lunch - tomato soup - splattered over the following:

“THEY packed their Bibles and rosary beads along with their bedrolls, sleeping
bags, guitars and woolly beanies. Loudly and proudly they proclaimed their nationalities, wearing vibrant national colours and carrying flags with the
broadest of smiles.

There were 24 pilgrims from Poland, another 24 American Catholics living on the Kadena US military base in Okinawa, Japan, 15 including a choir from a group of 700 coming from Holland, 21 from the US diocese of Manchester in New Hampshire and 117 from Germany who burst into impromptu hymn singing.”


I don’t know about you, but I find that kind of adorable. Especially the bit about impromptu hymn singing. How adorably dorky and gauche these people must be!

You may have thought, based on my general outrage around the time of APEC, that I’d be donning an ‘offensive’ T-shirt and doing my best to ‘annoy’ pilgrims at the big event. Yay for controversy! But actually, I also believe in good manners. I believe we should welcome the visitors with good grace as well-meaning visitors to this country.

...Though I am just a little bit tempted. As usual, the NSW government, Sicilian peasants that they are, decided to trample all over civil rights like a bull in a china shop and make a new law forbidding people to ‘annoy’ and disrupt people attending the event, or risk being executed by firing squad. Heil Mussolini!

I really don’t believe in discomfiting nice people who are just trying to have a good time. I may not be a Catholic myself, but the pilgrims are all basically decent, well-meaning people, who do their best to live by a righteous moral code. Let them have their festival. Tolerance! They’re harmless, right?

…Or are they?

Let’s take a closer look. Starting this weekend, Sydney will be crawling with thousands of people, who believe, literally:

1. The world was created only a few thousand years ago, in six days, by a God who decided he needed a rest on the seventh day. Despite the evidence to the contrary. We know all the scientific evidence is wrong because God said so. Or at least, he told some peasant a long time ago and then eventually someone wrote it down.

2. There used to be a place called Purgatory, where everyone, including unbaptised babies, went to suffer before they could go to Heaven, and this was all moral and good. And now there isn’t. This is also moral and good.

3. You used to be able to give money to the Church in exchange for your sins being forgiven. Now you can’t. Presumably this has nothing to do with politics and the changing spiritual attitudes of society, because of course God is above all that.

4. God causes miracles to happen, like a shadow of the Virgin Mary appearing on a mountain. Of course, the latter could actually be explained as a mass hallucination, or wishful thinking, but it’s far more likely the Virgin Mary actually was appearing!

5. A lot of this religion seems irrational. In fact, it is. In order to believe, you have to suspend reason and have faith. And this is a good thing! Forget common sense, just BELIEVE, and you will go to Heaven. And we know Heaven exists because…ummm….because it…er…does?

6. God created us with free will. He also created us flawed, and with the capacity to do bad things. But if we do bad things, he is enraged. He also created us to be rational, but if we are rational and don’t believe in him, he will be very angry.

7. God may have created the entire universe, but he is not above being enraged if you do not believe in him! Even though evidence and reason points against his existence (at least for many people). He could solve this problem by revealing himself in an extremely obvious way to everyone, as often as is necessary, but that would be too easy and not nearly so much fun. He preferred to have his Word dictated to illiterate and superstitious tribesmen two thousand and more years ago. If you do not believe in God, you will go to Hell.

8. If you believe in the wrong god, you will also go to Hell. It’s ok to work with atheists and followers of other religions, and even be friends with them, but your non-Catholic friends will roast when the time comes. And that’s good!

9. It’s ok to kill people in the name of religion.*

10. This religion, which sounds so obviously man made and medieval, which would make sense given that it was formalized in the Middle Ages when people really thought and acted like that**, is in fact the real deal! Because!

*and if they don’t, then they must think they know better than various popes who were appointed by God.
**that = everything that happens in the Bible


So, I don’t know, harmless, barmy loonies? Numbers 1 to 6 just sound ridiculous, the sort of thing people do believe when they’ve been brainwashed from childhood and haven’t really thought deeply about the issues for themselves. Nevertheless, harmless. But numbers 7 to 11? I’m not sure how I feel about people who think like that wandering my city. Should I bolt my doors at night and keep the cat in for the next fortnight? I do wonder!

Folks, I do respect your right to believe and worship as you see fit. But I don't respect your beliefs.

But anyway. Welcome!!!!

P.S. Another thing that bothers me is the name - 'World Youth Day'. Why not 'Catholic World Youth Day', to be more accurate? It breaks my heart to think of some Muslim, Hindu or atheist youths turning up, thinking it's for them, and being disappointed!

Friday 4 July 2008

Brushing, Brushing...and More Brushing

Twenty two minutes. That is how long it now takes me to clean my teeth.

Here is how I used to clean my teeth:

1. Rinse and spit,

2. Brush with electric toothbrush, including tongue, and roof of my mouth if I remember,

3. Floss,

4. Rinse and spit.



Taking a total of 3 or 4 minutes depending on how much I could be bothered.

Here is how, seemingly, I now have to clean them:



1. Brush with electric toothbrush, concentrating on gums, tongue and roof of mouth,

2. Floss (takes about 15 minutes)

3. Brush with orthodontic toothbrush

4. Brush with teeny little brush thingy the dentist gave me, getting into all the little nooks and crannies around the braces,

5. Brush with electric toothbrush again, using only water,

6. Put wax on. Orthodontic wax! My new best friend! (My second new best friend is minty mouthwash. I have a morbid fear of the braces giving me skunk breath).


All that effort to make my mouth nearly as clean as it used to be!

I have worked out that at this rate of cleaning, if you add all the minor brushing incidents and gargling I'm doing at work, then over the coming year I will spend two weeks cleaning my teeth. That's two weeks of nothing but cleaning. My teeth may well be worn away by then.

I will try not to blog any more about braces. But it's hard to think about anything else when your mouth feels like it's full of barbed wire.

Nice Work, Blogger

Thank you Blogger for losing my last post! Thank you!

Thursday 3 July 2008

I'll Never Smile Again (Not for 18 months anyway)

I believe I may have mentioned last post that I was getting braces on. Well, they're on now, and unless I tear them forcibly from my mouth in a moment of desperation, that's how they'll be until I'm in my thirties. Gosh, I'm old.

So now I have the pleasure of allowing everyone I know to acquaint themselves with my new look. Everyone I talk to looks at me in a "Something's funny with Sprite's face, but if I keep talking at the same speed she won't notice I'm trying to figure out what's wrong with her" kind of way. How attractive I feel! I did alert some people beforehand that I was going to have them done, so I wouldn't have to go through that with everyone. And you know what's kind of weird? The number of people who said to me, "So what exactly are they going to do? Which teeth need straightening? Let's have a look!" - and then start to lean forward as if I'm actually going to open my mouth and give them a guided tour of my sickening dental abnormalities. Freaks!

My dentist is really nice, and it wasn't an awful experience, but it wasn't comfortable either. I had to lie back with my mouth open for ages while dabbed stuff on my teeth, squirted stuff on them, dried them off, and said confidence-inspiring stuff to his assistant like "Be careful not to put too much glue on the brackets. There was too much on the last one. It went everywhere!" Suddenly an image flashed through my mind - the dentist was Hannibal Lector and was about to perform an intricate and creative work of torture on me. But I lay there obediently with one side of my mouth stretched open, hoping I wasn't going to be left with too many permanent mouth wrinkles, and tried not to swallow anything toxic.

After the dinky little things had been attached to my top layer of teeth, he told me I could rinse and spit. I sat up and tried to return my top lip to its normal position, but it felt like boulders had been attached to my teeth. Would I ever close my mouth again?!!

Then it was bottom teeth time. The highlights were when he thought he may have glued two of my teeth together (well, that would solve the problem of flossing!) and when something small and vicious clamped itself to my top lip! I don't know what it was and I wasn't in a position to find out, but it did get removed after I pointed it out through a mixture of gargling and singing.

So, the big moment. The proud dentist handed me a mirror. Now, just remember my lips had been pulled about for the last hour, and when I sat up and looked at my reflection, my first thought was "Oh my God! I have a MUZZLE!" I swear my heart broke just a little bit.

Fortunately my lips settled down a bit and although I do look a little like I've got a mouth full of marbles, at least they're small ones!

By far the worst thing of this whole braces things is, I can't bite down properly. The dentist stuck hard lumps of stuff on my back top teeth to stop me biting down all the way and knocking the braces, and it's very sore. Try biting some pebbles and you'll know how I feel. My poor front teeth are tender too. I'm told I'll get used to it. I also hope I'll get used to spending half an hour bloody brushing them every morning and night, plus power cleans throughout the day!

On the upside, I can't eat anything except soup and mashed stuff. So I'm going to be very slim very soon, I hope!

Wednesday 2 July 2008

Bracing Myself

I am getting braces in an hour and a half. I don't really know what to expect, but here goes!

Tuesday 1 July 2008

Bowser Grousers

I'm back, having decided that if my work load doesn't ease off and allow me to blog, well, I'll ditch the workload. Bastards gave me a ridiculously paltry payrise at payrise time recently, so I'm sure they won't mind me slowing down and slacking off. You get what you pay for, right?

It was a pretty traumatic weekend. The Man and I have been having Talks. We've sort of broken up, only, we're still going on as usual. Look, I don't know what the hell's going on. It's all too complicated.

Anyway, on with the topical chit chat.

Some asinine breakfast show was on this morning - that's all they show in the mornings, somebody's mum and dad from the suburbs sitting on a sofa and twittering about the light news, and cartoons - and they were going on yet again about the petrol prices. It struck me not for the first time that while these people love shock news items about climate change, Antarctica's melting ice, the plight of poor cute polar bears etc, it doesn't stop them having self-pity parties whenever petrol rises a cent or two and they might be forced to *gasp* economize on driving just a teensy bit. You'd think that it might occur to them to say, "perhaps rising prices at the pump aren't such a bad thing, as we all know we should be cutting energy use and finding cleaner sources". I mean, cutting edge analysis might be a bit challenging at 7 in the morning but I'd appreciate some indication of intelligence. As it is, the idea that high oil prices might be a good thing for the environment doesn't get within in a mile of being mentioned. It's just greed, greed greed. My breakfast cereal is probably cannier than these stupid, smug, westie TV presenters.

Ah, rant rant. Is it nearly time to go home yet? Half an hour to go. Should be able to waste it somehow...