The Father of Teeth
Text for today: I Canines clxxiii-cxcvii
Nevertheless, the Father of Teeth had not gone very far into the wilderness before he came upon a crowd all waiting in solemn anticipation. Asked what they were waiting for, they smiled at him pleasantly and said, "The Denier of Meat;" and then they whacked his grumbling solar plexus until his lungs convulsed, so after a while the Father of Teeth stopped asking and concentrated on elbowing his way to the front. Here the forces of wind and weather had carved a huge rock into a smooth, sloping shape with a flat top, and it was upon this rough platform that the crowd's expectation was focused with increasing intensity.
At length a team of slaves appeared and began effortfully rolling something large and vaguely rounded towards the top of the rock. Progress was far from rapid, as the bulky burden possessed several irregular protrusions which caused it to bump and lurch in a most alarming fashion. All the time the people's anticipation grew. A breathy silence took possession of them, broken only by bouts of cheerful coughing from the Father of Teeth.
On reaching the platform the slaves withdrew, and with a flourish their burden unfolded itself into a rotund individual clad in a voluminous robe. At first glance the robe appeared padded, as if to cushion the wearer from the strain of his ascent; but the Father of Teeth, his bruised innards gurgling, could see that all padding and cushioning was part of the man's natural endowments.
Waddling to the edge of the platform, the rotundity harangued the crowd with rumbling rhetorical thunder. Although the Father of Teeth dozed off twice during the sermon, he was hungry enough to absorb the gist; this was that human beings are in their essence not Flesh but Spirit, not Meat but Wind, and that without the sacred breath to animate it the flesh would be just so much tripe, and of very little use to anybody. Although the Father of Teeth found his appetite hardly sated, the crowd seemed to enjoy it and signalled their appreciation with such enthusiasm that several of the more zealous members hyperventilated themselves into unconsciousness.
When the sermon was over, the slaves reappeared and rolled the Denier of Meat away to an air-conditioned tent, while the crowd dispersed, panting to themselves and mortifying one another's unnecessary flesh with their virtuous fists and feet. Having deposited the Denier of Meat onto a comfortable couch, the slaves departed with obsequious obeisances, and the Denier of Meat reached into the wardrobe where the Father of Teeth waited lurking and grinning among the silk pyjamas.
And when the crowd returned next day, the slaves could only report that the Denier of Meat had unexpectedly undergone his ultimate transfiguration: his insignificant flesh reduced to some lumpy clay-coloured stains, and his immortal wind harnessed to fuel the Father of Teeth's resounding belches.
Nevertheless, the Father of Teeth had not gone very far into the wilderness before he came upon a crowd all waiting in solemn anticipation. Asked what they were waiting for, they smiled at him pleasantly and said, "The Denier of Meat;" and then they whacked his grumbling solar plexus until his lungs convulsed, so after a while the Father of Teeth stopped asking and concentrated on elbowing his way to the front. Here the forces of wind and weather had carved a huge rock into a smooth, sloping shape with a flat top, and it was upon this rough platform that the crowd's expectation was focused with increasing intensity.
At length a team of slaves appeared and began effortfully rolling something large and vaguely rounded towards the top of the rock. Progress was far from rapid, as the bulky burden possessed several irregular protrusions which caused it to bump and lurch in a most alarming fashion. All the time the people's anticipation grew. A breathy silence took possession of them, broken only by bouts of cheerful coughing from the Father of Teeth.
On reaching the platform the slaves withdrew, and with a flourish their burden unfolded itself into a rotund individual clad in a voluminous robe. At first glance the robe appeared padded, as if to cushion the wearer from the strain of his ascent; but the Father of Teeth, his bruised innards gurgling, could see that all padding and cushioning was part of the man's natural endowments.
Waddling to the edge of the platform, the rotundity harangued the crowd with rumbling rhetorical thunder. Although the Father of Teeth dozed off twice during the sermon, he was hungry enough to absorb the gist; this was that human beings are in their essence not Flesh but Spirit, not Meat but Wind, and that without the sacred breath to animate it the flesh would be just so much tripe, and of very little use to anybody. Although the Father of Teeth found his appetite hardly sated, the crowd seemed to enjoy it and signalled their appreciation with such enthusiasm that several of the more zealous members hyperventilated themselves into unconsciousness.
When the sermon was over, the slaves reappeared and rolled the Denier of Meat away to an air-conditioned tent, while the crowd dispersed, panting to themselves and mortifying one another's unnecessary flesh with their virtuous fists and feet. Having deposited the Denier of Meat onto a comfortable couch, the slaves departed with obsequious obeisances, and the Denier of Meat reached into the wardrobe where the Father of Teeth waited lurking and grinning among the silk pyjamas.
And when the crowd returned next day, the slaves could only report that the Denier of Meat had unexpectedly undergone his ultimate transfiguration: his insignificant flesh reduced to some lumpy clay-coloured stains, and his immortal wind harnessed to fuel the Father of Teeth's resounding belches.
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