The Curmudgeon


Sunday, August 25, 2019

The Father of Teeth

Text for today: Roots i-xiii

When the First Tooth emerged from the Primordial Gum-stuff, said the Father of Teeth inaccurately, it was alone and innocent, with nothing to chew or grind against. For millennia of millennia it remained content with its lot, putting down its roots and allowing its enamel to shine serenely forth in the name of the Creator's glory. I was there myself of course, sporting and blowing amid the red soup of the Primordial Gum-stuff, and the shine of the First Tooth's enamel was indeed a most edifying sight. There was no decay in the universe then, because the Creator had not thought decay necessary for an infinity of creatures all dedicated to praising Himself; so the gleam of the First Tooth's enamel was splendid and truly flawless, and could be seen at a distance of light-years, where a number of dentition-free civilisations wiped each other out in order to solve the enigma once and for all and for the glory of the Creator, of whose nature their understanding was accurate as far as it went, but necessarily partial.

But even the Primordial Gum-stuff is not infinite, said the Father of Teeth simplistically, and sooner or later (or both, according to some theories) I wallowed my way into the environs of the First Tooth and, while executing a particularly elaborate backward somersault, accidentally dented my skull on one of its roots. The impact was massive and the pain abominable, rippling through the Primordial Gum-stuff so that even the Creator noticed and, rather than simply healing the First Tooth and letting everything get back to normal, decided to sit back and see what might happen. Naturally, before many more millennia had elapsed the First Tooth was pregnant with a huge abscess, and turned yellow all over, and then brown, and finally it went black and expired in dreadful agonies, which the Creator blamed upon its failure at summoning up sufficient concentration to continue praising Him adequately.

For its own part the abscess grew ever fatter, and spread itself ever further through the Primordial Gum-stuff, which became unpleasantly thick and malodorous and not at all a suitable environment for me to play in, said the Father of Teeth, since I was, after all, considerably younger at the time. I tried to reason with the abscess and persuade it towards a life of modesty and self-denial, but it just blurped at me and went on expanding. At last and inevitably it burst with an orgasmic shriek, splattering forth its essence to the furthest reaches of the universe; and the Creator resolved always in future to bring forth more than one tooth at a time and to arrange them in neat rows, so that if one fell into corruption there would always be others within convenient reach.


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