Let there be teeth

I cannot smile

I carry with me a deformity that I have accommodated for long, but it is quite concerning still. My upper front teeth that I lost to a childhood prank and for every dental activity performed has left me with some regret at ever considering some remediation, though, something needs to be done.

Blog: Childhood: Defanged by Misadventure

Now, Ian Paisley, later Baron Bannside was a Northern Ireland politician and more notably a firebrand preacher, of the fire and brimstone kind, fundamentalist to the core and extremist was as comfortable for any congregant who felt they needed to be shaken to core about the expectations of the afterlife.

The matter of teeth

In one instance, the preacher railed from the pulpit with fiery vehemence, “Ye are all bound for damnation.” He said, and continued with, “There will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.” We all probably can find all sorts of opportunities to cry and weep, it is a composite of our nature.

However, we cannot all keep our teeth, some are lost to decay and caries, others lost to misadventure or even worse. There are some that have no teeth at all and lo, even in the sphere of faith healing, the lame walk, the blind sees, the mute speak, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, but I cannot recall any instance of a miracle of dental restoration. Surely, that is just as important to wholesome living.

A miracle for hell

There, in a pew sat an old woman who asked what might happen to those who have no teeth, for, and I agree, the “weeping and gnashing of teeth” experience will be incomplete without the teeth, leading some to question the irrefutability of Scripture. To which the Reverend Ian Paisley responded, “Teeth will be provided.” And there we have it, in damnation, we can expect one last miracle, 32 white gnashers horsing around on the red hills of healthy gums, ready to clatter in the wailing abandonment of perdition.

I guess this suggests that even in hell, the human experience will be full, whole, and complete. What a prospect, what a scary prospect, indeed.

Thought Picnic: Earning the Pryce of Revenge in England

England reveals you

Mr. Justin Bieber and his entourage that includes a management team that failed to manage the fallibilities of a pop-star turning into an adult with a fan-base that remains majorly a horde of delirious frenzied kids, might have left the country.

I have no particular dislike for the young man nor can I recognise any of his songs apart from the monotonous Baby that I could not listen to beyond the first minute before I felt like committing hari-kari.

However, England has a way of upending people, there is still a culture and expectation amongst us that foreigners fail to appreciate that they run afoul of all too quickly, Mitt Romney comes to mind.

Help this boy

Earlier, I had expressed utter disdain for the way he traipsed around London with his trousers sagging closer to his ankles than his hips, he deigned to appear literally two hours late, depending on who you believe on a school night for what was essentially a children’s party and then he had a run in with the paparazzi that Justin Bieber suddenly became Justin Bleeper for the expletives that were bleeped out in their encounter.

Walk away, he should have but his exuberance got the better of him and that became the news, that between the sympathy for collapsing on stage, going to hospital, growing older and the other issues as trying to get the under-aged into clubs for his birthday amongst many other things – one can easily suggest his management team be given the pink slip without delay.

Hell receives two new guests

As the saying goes, “Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned,” we have seen the intoxicating power of revenge and vindictiveness that it consumes all concerned without respite or mercy.

Chris Huhne, a successful businessman turned politician and member of the cabinet not too many moons ago, took his eyes off his wife of 26 years, Vicky Pryce and laid them on his assistant – all hell broke loose and what had been a marital secret with all the little things many will rather not get aired publicly became headline material.

Apparently, Chris has a penchant for putting his foot down hard, well, on the accelerator and cameras littering English roads seem to get excited at ordinary men playing Formula 1 games on our roads, the licence plate number is captured and a little research reveals who the car belongs to – a fine, some points on your licence and maybe a custodial sentence can slow you down to a grinding halt.

A virtuous wife

10 years ago, Chris was caught but he had accumulated enough points to lose his licence if he admitted to his folly, so out of the intricacies of marital God-knows-what, Vicky, the apparently careful driver, vicariously took the points that should have gone to Chris – a virtuous wife who laid down her honour for her husband or as she claims a wife badgered and coerced to do something against her will, her determination and resolve was raped.

So Chris announced to Vicky that he was leaving her, Vicky in her own right is a very successful economist decided all gloves were off and set out to teach her soon-to-be ex-husband a lesson by revealing this secret marital arrangement to the papers, conversations and emails on the matter are quite interesting, thereby ruining Chris’ career, livelihood, fatherly engagement and earning him a conviction that would most likely include jail time.

Oh Vicky, what have you done?

However, in revealing this Vicky had a fight on her hands too, to be able prove that she also did not pervert the course of justice – after one failed trial and another speedy trial, Vicky will most likely head for the slammer too, she might even end up serving longer than Chris in prison – two lives ruined just because one could not walk away.

The irony of this whole saga is that Vicky is now in another relationship with a politician who also had to resign his seat after admitting he submitted false expense claims. Obviously, I will not attempt to draw any conclusions as to the kind of woman Vicky is or the kind of men she attracts; though I am caught between careless and unfortunate.

Into a book of fables

This is no doubt one of the extreme cases where vengeance becomes a black hole, the vortex of which sucks everything into the pit of hell. In other cases, break-ups that have partners denying each other support, parental privileges and other unnecessarily hurtful things that make us less of the people we are or are able to be.

Sometimes you wonder about how people who sometime ago entered into the contract of holy matrimony with all the fanfare, happiness and I dare say, love - after the passage of time and drifting apart that they need to go separate ways turn out to be so bent on destroying each other – they, rather than cherish the memories of the good times they had together, they obliterate everything in the heat of the moment as if that can compensate for anything.

Many newspapers did not need much inspiration to come up with the headline – The Pryce of Revenge – this must go down in the annals of history as a fable and a lesson – If he/she don’t want you no more, walk away and live your life.

Vengeance is mine, always

As if we were not warned before, this is what the Holy Book says; “Dearly beloved, avenge not yourselves, but rather give place unto wrath: for it is written, Vengeance is mine; I will repay, saith the Lord.” KJV – Romans 12:19

Much as Chris should not have stepped on it trying Formula 1 tricks on English roads, Vicky should not have attempted to step into the Lord’s big shoes.

The gospel of the widow's mite

There she was ready for ridicule

Taking a picture this afternoon of a woman conservatively dressed almost looking destitute made me wonder about the tendency to ridicule people.

Our deep-seated prejudices surface as expressions of curiosity revealing a visage of disdain that would almost draw approval from any passer-by.

She had a message which through programming, teaching and indoctrination – say faith – one may not ridicule – Jesus Saves – albeit in German; a message that has been about for over 2 millennia but which many fail to make relevant to themselves, their lives, their societies or their communities.

Looking at her, I did wonder how her presentation of the message would attract anyone on a day that attracted all the finery and celebration of gaiety and the debauched.

Not a time for asceticism

People were out in literally thread-bare clothes soaking in the sun and having a joyous time, definitely not a time to consider asceticism.

Then I remembered those Christian tracts that encouraged you into the embracing arms of Jesus Christ, well, I meant to say, terrified you horribly by making you the leading player of a sketch that had you burning in hell.

As you read the tract and break out in cold sweat with just enough strength to pray save me, you realise that you are dusting off the ashes from your singed eyebrows in an ashes to ashes act which had already been said of you in the presence of the devil from whom you have just run for dear life.

Rewards so different

In any case, the woman in her small way did not have the trappings of opulence nor the ostentation of jewellery that exemplifies modern day apostles in doing her part for the gospel.

No exhibitions of wealth untold that they would not be eligible for the streets of gold if many had their say in the final reckoning.

However, like Jesus said of the widow [Source - Lesson of the widow's mite - Wikipedia, the free encyclopaedia] who had the least but gave it all as opposed to those who had a lot and only gave of what they have, the gospel’s methods of reward are far more advanced than the performance metrics any HR department can aspire to for objectivity.

The KPIs [Source - Key performance indicator - Wikipedia, the free encyclopaedia] might just make her worthy of more because of her sincerity, dedication and purposefulness than stadium filling evangelists who have to do logistics before the gospel.

And so all I can say to the lady is keep up the work, it might well be good too.