Will you sign now? asks Océane Conscience.
No, says Gaius. I cannot approve of the time frame.
Very well, says Océane. That means your friends will be liable. Who holds the money?
What money? says Arthur.
I know you have it, says Océane. The entire Twenty Names Committee saw you collect it.
What a woman, thinks Pablo. Mind like a detective.
Just don't spend it, says Océane Conscience.
The very fast train passes through Saint Quentin.
Arthur and Pablo get up to go to the toilet.
Gaius feels compelled to make conversation.
What will you be doing in Paris? asks Gaius.
Pre climate talk meetings, says Océane.
Ah yes, the climate talks, says Gaius. Let us hope they will be productive. But PRE climate talks, did you say?
Yes, I'm meeting with various ecologists, says Océane, one of whom you may know.
Who? asks Gaius. Is it Xui Li? Or perhaps her best friend, Hui Zhong?
No, says Océane. It's a Swede. I'll give you another clue, if you can't guess him.
Yes, says Gaius. I have no idea. No, wait....no.... I haven't.
Océane scratches her chin, feels the yellow stickiness, scrapes it off with a finely sculpted finger nail, deposits it into her mouth delicately, and swallows it.
He is sometimes known as the Pliny of the North, she says. There's a clue for you.
Jumping Jiminy! says Gaius. Not Carl Linnaeus?
Carl Linnaeus, that's him.
What the dickens is HE doing at the climate talks? mutters Gaius.
Arthur and Pablo come back.
Pablo brushes past Océane as he sits down.
She undulates a little. But he notes that her chin is not sticky.
He thinks about offering her a Spanish fruit jelly. He would if he had one.
What's wrong, Gaius? You look perturbed, says Arthur.
No, not perturbed, says Gaius. I've just heard that an old acquaintance will be at the pre climate talks in Paris. I wonder if I could possibly get out of my........
Why not? says Arthur.
But who'll begin training the birds? asks Gaius.
He is already losing interest in training the birds.
We will, says Arthur.
Maybe just Arthur, says Pablo, testing the waters.
Oh no, says Océane. You have both signed the contract, and another member of the Twenty Names Committee will meet you at Paris Nord to continue your journey.
Pablo looks shocked.
Arthur looks hopeful.
The train approaches Compeigne.
Saturday, October 31, 2015
Friday, October 30, 2015
Don't Wipe Your Chin I Couldn't Take It
Océane stands up to take off her shimmering blue raincoat. It's warm on the train.
Underneath it, she wears a green dress, with white spots and creamy lace edgings.
She sits down, and takes a bottle out of her handbag. A yellow sports drink, electrolytic.
All the beautiful colours of the ocean. Pablo wonders how much more he can stand.
Arthur seems unaffected.
The Lion of Flanders, says Arthur. What was that about?
Oh, I don't know, says Océane, twisting the lid of her bottle.
Pwoosh. A few bubbles ooze out.
Yes you do, says Arthur.
All right, I do, says Océane. My famed ancestor Hendrik Conscience wrote this book about the victory of a Flemish peasant militia over French knights in 1302.
Merde! How boring. Arthur has no desire to hear more.
But Pablo wants her to keep talking. Her lips are wet, with a sheeny tint of yellow. A sticky drip rolls down her chin.
Was he French, or Flemish? asks Pablo.
His father was French, says Océane. His father was the under harbour master in Antwerp in 1811, when Antwerp was part of France. Hendrik Conscience wrote his story in Dutch, which his father thought vulgar.
Boring upon boring. Arthur is falling asleep.
He stretches both legs out. At which point Gaius wakes up.
Ah, Gaius, says Océane. I've been waiting for you to wake up.
Why is that? asks Gaius. Are we there yet?
We are just passing through Mons, says Océane. Please read this contract and sign it.
I have no intention of signing it, says Gaius. But I shall read it.
He reads it, and laughs.
I see Arthur and Pablo have signed it, says Gaius. And I think I know why.
Why? asks Arthur.
Because of this clause, says Gaius. There will be someone from the Twenty Names Committee accompanying the bird trainer or trainers at all times, until the period da-da-da........etcetera.
That wasn't there when I signed it, says Arthur.
I added it, says Océane.
What sort of lawyer does that? says Arthur.
My sort, says Océane Conscience, looking directly at Pablo.
No doubt you take after your heroic ancestor, says Pablo, who hasn't been following.
Not exactly, says Océane. His story was full of historical inaccuracies. I am meticulous.
Pablo is already composing a poem to her in his head.
To a Meticulous Woman On A Train
Don't wipe your chin
I couldn't take it.
The yellow liquid is drying
and when you say
I am meticulous
it cracks a little
and a tiny hair
escapes and starts waving
under my uncritical
gaze
(This is as far as he's got.)
Underneath it, she wears a green dress, with white spots and creamy lace edgings.
She sits down, and takes a bottle out of her handbag. A yellow sports drink, electrolytic.
All the beautiful colours of the ocean. Pablo wonders how much more he can stand.
Arthur seems unaffected.
The Lion of Flanders, says Arthur. What was that about?
Oh, I don't know, says Océane, twisting the lid of her bottle.
Pwoosh. A few bubbles ooze out.
Yes you do, says Arthur.
All right, I do, says Océane. My famed ancestor Hendrik Conscience wrote this book about the victory of a Flemish peasant militia over French knights in 1302.
Merde! How boring. Arthur has no desire to hear more.
But Pablo wants her to keep talking. Her lips are wet, with a sheeny tint of yellow. A sticky drip rolls down her chin.
Was he French, or Flemish? asks Pablo.
His father was French, says Océane. His father was the under harbour master in Antwerp in 1811, when Antwerp was part of France. Hendrik Conscience wrote his story in Dutch, which his father thought vulgar.
Boring upon boring. Arthur is falling asleep.
He stretches both legs out. At which point Gaius wakes up.
Ah, Gaius, says Océane. I've been waiting for you to wake up.
Why is that? asks Gaius. Are we there yet?
We are just passing through Mons, says Océane. Please read this contract and sign it.
I have no intention of signing it, says Gaius. But I shall read it.
He reads it, and laughs.
I see Arthur and Pablo have signed it, says Gaius. And I think I know why.
Why? asks Arthur.
Because of this clause, says Gaius. There will be someone from the Twenty Names Committee accompanying the bird trainer or trainers at all times, until the period da-da-da........etcetera.
That wasn't there when I signed it, says Arthur.
I added it, says Océane.
What sort of lawyer does that? says Arthur.
My sort, says Océane Conscience, looking directly at Pablo.
No doubt you take after your heroic ancestor, says Pablo, who hasn't been following.
Not exactly, says Océane. His story was full of historical inaccuracies. I am meticulous.
Pablo is already composing a poem to her in his head.
To a Meticulous Woman On A Train
Don't wipe your chin
I couldn't take it.
The yellow liquid is drying
and when you say
I am meticulous
it cracks a little
and a tiny hair
escapes and starts waving
under my uncritical
gaze
(This is as far as he's got.)
Thursday, October 29, 2015
Stuttering Uttering Conscience
Now what? says Pablo.
We go to the station, says Gaius, and catch a night train to Paris, before anyone else comes out.
Too late, says Arthur. Here comes another one.
Another young woman comes out.
She wears a shimmering blue raincoat; it's foggy tonight in Antwerp.
I'm glad to have caught you, says the young woman. The committee has sent me.
What is it? asks Gaius. We've a fast train to catch.
Then I shall walk along with you, says the young woman.
Are you on the Twenty Names list? asks Pablo.
He already knows that she is.
Yes, I am Océane Conscience, says the blue shimmering woman.
Conscience? says Gaius. I remember a Conscience. Yes....Hendrik Conscience.
The Lion of Flanders, says Océane. An ancestor of mine. A writer.
This impresses the poets.
Are you a writer? asks Arthur.
No, says Océane. You keep wheeling your bicycles, and I'll keep up with you. The station is near.
I suppose you're a spy, says Arthur.
Oh no, says Océane. A lawyer.
Fascinating, says Gaius. A lawyer. Has this to do with our contract?
It does, replies Océane Conscience. It is most lucky that I am also going to Paris, for the climate talks. I shall travel with you and on the way we shall finalise the contract.
You don't have any luggage, says Arthur.
No, I don't, says Océane. Everything I need is in my handbag, or on my smartphone.
In fact, she does have a large handbag, with a pair of blue tights hanging out.
They trundle to Antwerpen Centraale, where they buy tickets on the Thalys to Paris.
It's not that expensive. Gaius is a senior. Arthur and Pablo pay for 'least comfortable seats', Océane has some sort of railpass.
They are now on the train, relaxing in comfortable seating.
So, says Océane. At the end of five months, I believe you have promised the birds will be proficient in reciting the Twenty Name List.
No, no, says Gaius. It was vaguer than that.
A contract cannot be vague, says Océane. Shall we say five months and two days? Three, if that makes you happy?
Say what you like, says Arthur.
Yes, say what you like, echoes Pablo. He likes watching her lips move.
Océane starts to tap something out on her smartphone.
The dark countryside rolls by outside the fast train.
Ten minutes later:
Gaius is snoozing.
Arthur and Pablo are playing I Spy.
Finished, says Océane Conscience. You must all read it, before you sign.
Arthur skim reads it. Five months and three days, or their money back. That's never going to happen.
Pablo skim reads it. Océane has a nice turn of phrase. 'Or their money back'. And she seems to undulate gently, even when sitting......
They both sign the contract. How? With a pencil. On a smartphone, that is okay.
Now that just leaves Gaius.
But Gaius is sleeping. He jerks in his sleep. The jerk corresponds to the point in his dream where the bird stutters uttering CONSCIENCE.
We go to the station, says Gaius, and catch a night train to Paris, before anyone else comes out.
Too late, says Arthur. Here comes another one.
Another young woman comes out.
She wears a shimmering blue raincoat; it's foggy tonight in Antwerp.
I'm glad to have caught you, says the young woman. The committee has sent me.
What is it? asks Gaius. We've a fast train to catch.
Then I shall walk along with you, says the young woman.
Are you on the Twenty Names list? asks Pablo.
He already knows that she is.
Yes, I am Océane Conscience, says the blue shimmering woman.
Conscience? says Gaius. I remember a Conscience. Yes....Hendrik Conscience.
The Lion of Flanders, says Océane. An ancestor of mine. A writer.
This impresses the poets.
Are you a writer? asks Arthur.
No, says Océane. You keep wheeling your bicycles, and I'll keep up with you. The station is near.
I suppose you're a spy, says Arthur.
Oh no, says Océane. A lawyer.
Fascinating, says Gaius. A lawyer. Has this to do with our contract?
It does, replies Océane Conscience. It is most lucky that I am also going to Paris, for the climate talks. I shall travel with you and on the way we shall finalise the contract.
You don't have any luggage, says Arthur.
No, I don't, says Océane. Everything I need is in my handbag, or on my smartphone.
In fact, she does have a large handbag, with a pair of blue tights hanging out.
They trundle to Antwerpen Centraale, where they buy tickets on the Thalys to Paris.
It's not that expensive. Gaius is a senior. Arthur and Pablo pay for 'least comfortable seats', Océane has some sort of railpass.
They are now on the train, relaxing in comfortable seating.
So, says Océane. At the end of five months, I believe you have promised the birds will be proficient in reciting the Twenty Name List.
No, no, says Gaius. It was vaguer than that.
A contract cannot be vague, says Océane. Shall we say five months and two days? Three, if that makes you happy?
Say what you like, says Arthur.
Yes, say what you like, echoes Pablo. He likes watching her lips move.
Océane starts to tap something out on her smartphone.
The dark countryside rolls by outside the fast train.
Ten minutes later:
Gaius is snoozing.
Arthur and Pablo are playing I Spy.
Finished, says Océane Conscience. You must all read it, before you sign.
Arthur skim reads it. Five months and three days, or their money back. That's never going to happen.
Pablo skim reads it. Océane has a nice turn of phrase. 'Or their money back'. And she seems to undulate gently, even when sitting......
They both sign the contract. How? With a pencil. On a smartphone, that is okay.
Now that just leaves Gaius.
But Gaius is sleeping. He jerks in his sleep. The jerk corresponds to the point in his dream where the bird stutters uttering CONSCIENCE.
Wednesday, October 28, 2015
Quick To Whip
Outside da Kleine Hedoniste, very late in the evening:
Gaius: That went well.
Arthur: Yes, we now have four hundred euros.
Pablo: Instead of a debt for three hundred and seventy.
Gaius: Arthur can always be relied on in these matters. And I'm impressed with you Pablo. You play the guitar well. And you were quick to whip out your pencil.
Pablo: I am Spanish.
Gaius: Are the Spanish all quick with their pencils? You surprise me.
Pablo: No. We all play the guitar very well.
Gaius: Remarkable. And now we must be going. We don't want any of the people inside to come out and start asking questions.
Pablo: What sort of questions?
As if in answer to his question about what sort of questions, the red-cheeked young woman in the stiff cotton dress comes out of da Kleine Hedonist to ask a question.
Anaïs: One moment please!
Gaius: Yes?
Anaïs: Your list of names. We wish a copy.
Gaius: Whatever for?
Anaïs: Inside we have quickly formed a committee. Firstly, we wish to compare the list.
Arthur: What's the committee for?
Anaïs: To draw up a contract, stipulating a time frame and an agreed proof of completion of the task.
Gaius: Let me understand. The task of teaching birds to say your names?
Anaïs: Of course.
Gaius: One cannot impose a time frame on such things.
Pablo: Too true. The birds may find some names more difficult than others.
Arthur: Your name for example, AN-AY-EES, has three syllables and a complicated dipthong.
Anaïs: That's exactly why we need a contract. Where is your list?
Pablo (uncrumpling the list which was screwed up in his pocket): Here.
Gaius: Let me have it. I'll read them out, young lady, and you can tick them off: Robbe, Manon, Maxime, Jens, Océane (that's delightful!), Silke, Arnaud, Niels, Hanne, Anaïs (that's you), Amandine, Dries (how do you pronounce that?), Maarten, Femke, Stijn, Arno, Lore, Fien, Jorne, Luna. Twenty in all.
Anaïs: That seems to be in order. And the time frame?
Gaius: First I must return to Paris, then fly to Sydney, and catch the train to Blaxland, where my good friend Pastor Moon is holding the endangered birds at his home. By the time I get there they should have forgotten their native language. Then I begin my task of teaching them the cries for danger. Teaching them your names will then begin. I estimate five months at the earliest.
Anaïs: We had no idea it would take that long.
Gaius: That's the absolute earliest. It may take longer. Some of you have very funny names.
Anaïs: We do not. And proof of completion?
Arthur: Gaius will put it up on YouTube. We'll let you know when it's coming out.
Pablo: It'll probably go viral.
Arthur: Then you'll be famous. You and your committee.
Anaïs: Here are our details. We call ourselves the Twenty Person's Names Committee.
Pablo: That's descriptive.
Anaïs goes back inside. Laughter is heard, and glasses clinking.
Gaius: That went well.
Arthur: Yes, we now have four hundred euros.
Pablo: Instead of a debt for three hundred and seventy.
Gaius: Arthur can always be relied on in these matters. And I'm impressed with you Pablo. You play the guitar well. And you were quick to whip out your pencil.
Pablo: I am Spanish.
Gaius: Are the Spanish all quick with their pencils? You surprise me.
Pablo: No. We all play the guitar very well.
Gaius: Remarkable. And now we must be going. We don't want any of the people inside to come out and start asking questions.
Pablo: What sort of questions?
As if in answer to his question about what sort of questions, the red-cheeked young woman in the stiff cotton dress comes out of da Kleine Hedonist to ask a question.
Anaïs: One moment please!
Gaius: Yes?
Anaïs: Your list of names. We wish a copy.
Gaius: Whatever for?
Anaïs: Inside we have quickly formed a committee. Firstly, we wish to compare the list.
Arthur: What's the committee for?
Anaïs: To draw up a contract, stipulating a time frame and an agreed proof of completion of the task.
Gaius: Let me understand. The task of teaching birds to say your names?
Anaïs: Of course.
Gaius: One cannot impose a time frame on such things.
Pablo: Too true. The birds may find some names more difficult than others.
Arthur: Your name for example, AN-AY-EES, has three syllables and a complicated dipthong.
Anaïs: That's exactly why we need a contract. Where is your list?
Pablo (uncrumpling the list which was screwed up in his pocket): Here.
Gaius: Let me have it. I'll read them out, young lady, and you can tick them off: Robbe, Manon, Maxime, Jens, Océane (that's delightful!), Silke, Arnaud, Niels, Hanne, Anaïs (that's you), Amandine, Dries (how do you pronounce that?), Maarten, Femke, Stijn, Arno, Lore, Fien, Jorne, Luna. Twenty in all.
Anaïs: That seems to be in order. And the time frame?
Gaius: First I must return to Paris, then fly to Sydney, and catch the train to Blaxland, where my good friend Pastor Moon is holding the endangered birds at his home. By the time I get there they should have forgotten their native language. Then I begin my task of teaching them the cries for danger. Teaching them your names will then begin. I estimate five months at the earliest.
Anaïs: We had no idea it would take that long.
Gaius: That's the absolute earliest. It may take longer. Some of you have very funny names.
Anaïs: We do not. And proof of completion?
Arthur: Gaius will put it up on YouTube. We'll let you know when it's coming out.
Pablo: It'll probably go viral.
Arthur: Then you'll be famous. You and your committee.
Anaïs: Here are our details. We call ourselves the Twenty Person's Names Committee.
Pablo: That's descriptive.
Anaïs goes back inside. Laughter is heard, and glasses clinking.
Tuesday, October 27, 2015
Masterclass In Voices Of Danger
At da Kleine Hedonist, later that evening:
Word has got around that Arthur and Pablo are conducting a Masterclass.
In what, nobody knows.
Excitement is mounting. Drinks are being consumed. Men unbutton their loungy retro jackets. Women kick their heels off. Speculation abounds.
Will it be Poetry? Jazz? Or boxing?
Gaius steps up to the podium. Boo!
Come now, says Gaius. This is supposed to be a creative fish tank.
Swim off, says someone.
Heh-heh! laughs a group of lads who have brought their own sandwiches (as no food is served).
I am here to conduct a Masterclass, says Gaius. With the help of my young colleagues, Arthur Rimbaud and Pablo Neruda.
Arthur! Arthur! Pablo! Pablo! chant the afficionados.
My talk is about teaching birds a new language, says Gaius. You may wonder at the usefulness.
Yes! calls out someone. What is the usefulness?
(Gaius knows they are hooked now).
Pablo strikes up a chord on a Spanish guitar. Plong!!!! (He is Spanish)
Birds that have been raised in captivity, says Gaius, are at a disadvantage when released into the wild. They have not learned the language by which they warn one another of danger.
Wark! Wark! calls a wag with a sandwich.
Foreseeing danger, Arthur approaches the podium.
Now for the demonstration, says Arthur.
(Plonnnnngggg! Pablo reproduces his one Spanish chord)
I'll be the bird. Pablo will represent Danger, says Arthur.
Gaius is confused. What does he do?
You don't do anything, says Arthur. Watch me.
Arthur sits down at the feet of Pablo, who continues his repetitious plucking.
The crowd is on tenterhooks now.
Arthur speaks, in bird language:
Cawawaoogleeeeooowaeeoeeo!
Pablo (the Danger) stops playing.
The Danger stands up.
Schleeffoorhowwahspingelroohe! says the Danger, and leaps upon Arthur, who rolls up in a ball.
Now, says Pablo, you will see how this could have been different, if we spoke the same language.
Gaius is outraged.
No! The Danger never speaks the same language! That is not it at all! The victims must learn their own language.
Yes, yes! cry several Belgian beer drinkers. They must learn their own!
Would you pay money for that? asks Arthur, catching the zeitgeist.
No! cries a punter. Not money!
Unless...... trills a red-cheeked lady in a stiff cotton dress..... unless he would teach them our name!
Super! calls out her friend. Our own names! I'd pay money for that!
I'll make a list of names, says Pablo, taking out a pencil and notepad.
Gaius is impressed. A young man who can produce a pencil!
Soon Pablo has a list of twenty names, each person having paid Arthur twenty euros for the privilege.
But the Masterclass is not over.
Pablo gives them a poem, on the spur of the moment.
Ode to Danger:
I pluck the chord
And dig the holes
Now I can connect things
Otherwise it's not going to work.
When I finish I make a list
My pencil is smaller
But to get the job done, it's worthwhile.
A good ode. And relevant. Everyone likes it.
Word has got around that Arthur and Pablo are conducting a Masterclass.
In what, nobody knows.
Excitement is mounting. Drinks are being consumed. Men unbutton their loungy retro jackets. Women kick their heels off. Speculation abounds.
Will it be Poetry? Jazz? Or boxing?
Gaius steps up to the podium. Boo!
Come now, says Gaius. This is supposed to be a creative fish tank.
Swim off, says someone.
Heh-heh! laughs a group of lads who have brought their own sandwiches (as no food is served).
I am here to conduct a Masterclass, says Gaius. With the help of my young colleagues, Arthur Rimbaud and Pablo Neruda.
Arthur! Arthur! Pablo! Pablo! chant the afficionados.
My talk is about teaching birds a new language, says Gaius. You may wonder at the usefulness.
Yes! calls out someone. What is the usefulness?
(Gaius knows they are hooked now).
Pablo strikes up a chord on a Spanish guitar. Plong!!!! (He is Spanish)
Birds that have been raised in captivity, says Gaius, are at a disadvantage when released into the wild. They have not learned the language by which they warn one another of danger.
Wark! Wark! calls a wag with a sandwich.
Foreseeing danger, Arthur approaches the podium.
Now for the demonstration, says Arthur.
(Plonnnnngggg! Pablo reproduces his one Spanish chord)
I'll be the bird. Pablo will represent Danger, says Arthur.
Gaius is confused. What does he do?
You don't do anything, says Arthur. Watch me.
Arthur sits down at the feet of Pablo, who continues his repetitious plucking.
The crowd is on tenterhooks now.
Arthur speaks, in bird language:
Cawawaoogleeeeooowaeeoeeo!
Pablo (the Danger) stops playing.
The Danger stands up.
Schleeffoorhowwahspingelroohe! says the Danger, and leaps upon Arthur, who rolls up in a ball.
Now, says Pablo, you will see how this could have been different, if we spoke the same language.
Gaius is outraged.
No! The Danger never speaks the same language! That is not it at all! The victims must learn their own language.
Yes, yes! cry several Belgian beer drinkers. They must learn their own!
Would you pay money for that? asks Arthur, catching the zeitgeist.
No! cries a punter. Not money!
Unless...... trills a red-cheeked lady in a stiff cotton dress..... unless he would teach them our name!
Super! calls out her friend. Our own names! I'd pay money for that!
I'll make a list of names, says Pablo, taking out a pencil and notepad.
Gaius is impressed. A young man who can produce a pencil!
Soon Pablo has a list of twenty names, each person having paid Arthur twenty euros for the privilege.
But the Masterclass is not over.
Pablo gives them a poem, on the spur of the moment.
Ode to Danger:
I pluck the chord
And dig the holes
Now I can connect things
Otherwise it's not going to work.
When I finish I make a list
My pencil is smaller
But to get the job done, it's worthwhile.
A good ode. And relevant. Everyone likes it.
Monday, October 26, 2015
God Is Out Of The Machine
Inside the red box:
Mrs Bristlebird: What on earth do you mean, dear?
Mr Bristlebird: If only one of us were found alive, that would prove that the contents of the box, in this case us, were both alive and dead at the same time.
Mrs Bristlebird: I see, and that was Schrodinger's paradox?
Mr Bristlebird: Yes, it was supposed to seem ridiculous. His cat couldn't be alive and dead at the same time.
Mrs Bristlebird: But....there was only one cat.
Mr Bristlebird: True.
Mrs Bristlebird: So we're back where we started.
Outside the red box:
Sweezus: What do you think, Ray?
Ray: Very nice. I'll have my shirt back.
Unni: Dad, don't be so sour. Sweezus looks great. And look what it says on his top. Deus ex machina.
Ray: Hah!
Katherine: What's that Hah! for?
Ray: Did he pick it?
Unni: No I picked it. But he liked it.
Sweezus: What about the boardies?
Ray: Disgraceful. I was trying to ignore them.
Katherine: So am I. But they're starting to grow on me.
Unni: Let me take a photo, while they're still new.
Click. She takes a photo.
Katherine; Let me see it. Oh what a nice one. Send it to my phone.
Unni: Sure. Do you want it too, Sweezie?
Sweezus: Okay. I'll send it to Arthur. He'll be jealous.
It takes only a few seconds for the photo sending to happen.
In Antwerp:
Arthur is jealous.
Arthur: Look at this photo.
Pablo: Is that Sweezus? What does it say on his pants?
Arthur: Live Fast Die Last.
Pablo: I'm jealous. Are you jealous?
Arthur: Yes, I am.
Gaius: What's this about being jealous? Let me see. Ah, it's a photo of Sweezus. He looks better than he did in the last two.
Arthur: What last two?
Gaius: This one, and this one.
He shows Arthur and Pablo the photo of Sweezus smiling with the funnel web spider, and the one of him grimacing, with a Bristlebird perched on each shoulder.
Pablo: It looks like he has been having many crazy adventures!
Arthur: While we've been washed up at Kleine Hedoniste, making drunken poems with no substance.
Gaius: That's what I've been telling you. Are you ready to leave now?
Arthur: I am. Let's go.
Pablo: Me too. Let's get going.
The Manager: Not until you've paid the bill, boys.
Gaius: That should be no problem.
The Manager: Good. It's quite a large bill. I believe you have guaranteed it.
Gaius; Have I? How much is it?
The Manager: Three hundred and seventy euro.
Gaius: I'm not paying that.
The Manager: Then perhaps all three of you would like to put on a Masterclass for our party tonight, instead of paying? It's loungy-retro-jacket, especially-many-good-music night. Anything goes.
Gaius: All right.
Mrs Bristlebird: What on earth do you mean, dear?
Mr Bristlebird: If only one of us were found alive, that would prove that the contents of the box, in this case us, were both alive and dead at the same time.
Mrs Bristlebird: I see, and that was Schrodinger's paradox?
Mr Bristlebird: Yes, it was supposed to seem ridiculous. His cat couldn't be alive and dead at the same time.
Mrs Bristlebird: But....there was only one cat.
Mr Bristlebird: True.
Mrs Bristlebird: So we're back where we started.
Outside the red box:
Sweezus: What do you think, Ray?
Ray: Very nice. I'll have my shirt back.
Unni: Dad, don't be so sour. Sweezus looks great. And look what it says on his top. Deus ex machina.
Ray: Hah!
Katherine: What's that Hah! for?
Ray: Did he pick it?
Unni: No I picked it. But he liked it.
Sweezus: What about the boardies?
Ray: Disgraceful. I was trying to ignore them.
Katherine: So am I. But they're starting to grow on me.
Unni: Let me take a photo, while they're still new.
Click. She takes a photo.
Katherine; Let me see it. Oh what a nice one. Send it to my phone.
Unni: Sure. Do you want it too, Sweezie?
Sweezus: Okay. I'll send it to Arthur. He'll be jealous.
It takes only a few seconds for the photo sending to happen.
In Antwerp:
Arthur is jealous.
Arthur: Look at this photo.
Pablo: Is that Sweezus? What does it say on his pants?
Arthur: Live Fast Die Last.
Pablo: I'm jealous. Are you jealous?
Arthur: Yes, I am.
Gaius: What's this about being jealous? Let me see. Ah, it's a photo of Sweezus. He looks better than he did in the last two.
Arthur: What last two?
Gaius: This one, and this one.
He shows Arthur and Pablo the photo of Sweezus smiling with the funnel web spider, and the one of him grimacing, with a Bristlebird perched on each shoulder.
Pablo: It looks like he has been having many crazy adventures!
Arthur: While we've been washed up at Kleine Hedoniste, making drunken poems with no substance.
Gaius: That's what I've been telling you. Are you ready to leave now?
Arthur: I am. Let's go.
Pablo: Me too. Let's get going.
The Manager: Not until you've paid the bill, boys.
Gaius: That should be no problem.
The Manager: Good. It's quite a large bill. I believe you have guaranteed it.
Gaius; Have I? How much is it?
The Manager: Three hundred and seventy euro.
Gaius: I'm not paying that.
The Manager: Then perhaps all three of you would like to put on a Masterclass for our party tonight, instead of paying? It's loungy-retro-jacket, especially-many-good-music night. Anything goes.
Gaius: All right.
Sunday, October 25, 2015
Live Fast Die Last
Nowra. Ray drives down Junction Street.
Stop here, Ray, says Katherine.
Ray stops the ute outside the Aquatique Surf Shop.
Coming in with us? asks Katherine.
No, I'll stay here, says Ray. Someone needs to keep an eye on the Bristlebirds.
Katherine, Sweezus and Unni enter the Surf Shop.
Inside the Surf Shop:
Des: G'day guys. Lookin' for anything in particular?
Sweezus: Yeah, boardies.
Des: Got these new ones in from Jet Pilot.
Sweezus: Let's see. Woah! "Live Fast Die Last"! That's cool!
Des: Yeah, they're pretty awesome. They come in black and brown or black and purple.
Katherine: Do you really want to wear a picture of a girl in a coffin, and that motto?
Sweezus: Yeah, but Live Fast Die Last is kind of.... you know.....
Unni: What, exactly?
Des: Is this your sister and your granny?
Sweezus: No way.
Unni: Die LAST? Is it a movie?
Des: I think it's a song. So what, anyway? It's manly. However if granny and sister don't like 'em, how about these ones?
He shows Sweezus a pair of Big Sleeps by Hurley.
Sweezus: Big Sleeps, the street artist? He's unique, man.
Katherine: I can't quite read it. What does it say?
Des: Yeah, he's got this stylised script. Grannies can't read it.
Katherine: It looks like B-I-G S-L-E-E-P-S. And something else I can't.....
Sweezus: Okay. I like them. And what about a tank or a muscle top?
Unni: D'you like this one?
Sweezus: Wicked! Deus ex Machina.
Unni: That's so you.
Katherine: The black goes well with the black and white board shorts. Quite striking.
Des: Goes well with? Striking? Pfff! What's that about?
Sweezus: Heh! She's just kidding. It's tricky shopping with women.
He goes off to try on the Hurley Big Sleeps board shorts and the Deus ex Machina tank top.
Comes back, looking remarkably striking.
Katherine: Very nice. How much will that be?
Des: Hundred and forty five altogether.
Katherine: That's expensive!
Des: The Jet Pilots are cheaper. If he got them it'd only be a hundred and five.
Sweezus: And I like them better.
Katherine: All right, try them on then.
.....
Outside Aquatique Surf Shop:
If you live FAST, says Unni, shouldn't you die FIRST?
No, says Sweezus. You don't get it.
What's dad up to? says Unni.
Ray is leaning over into the back of the ute, poking the lid of the red box with a barbecue fork.
DAD! yelps Unni. Don't take the lid off!
I wasn't, says Ray, straightening up. I was just checking.
.......
Inside the red box ( Schrodinger's box) the Bristlebirds talk quantum mechanics.
Mr Bristlebird: Did you hear that?
Mrs Bristlebird: They're checking.
Mr Bristlebird: If we're alive or dead in this box.
Mrs Bristlebird: And are we?
Mr Bristlebird: What do you think?
Mrs Bristlebird: We'll know when they open it.
Mr Bristlebird: We know already. They'll know when they open it.
Mrs Bristlebird: And if there's only one of us......?
Mr Bristlebird: That will prove that you CAN think about quantum states for large objects.
Stop here, Ray, says Katherine.
Ray stops the ute outside the Aquatique Surf Shop.
Coming in with us? asks Katherine.
No, I'll stay here, says Ray. Someone needs to keep an eye on the Bristlebirds.
Katherine, Sweezus and Unni enter the Surf Shop.
Inside the Surf Shop:
Des: G'day guys. Lookin' for anything in particular?
Sweezus: Yeah, boardies.
Des: Got these new ones in from Jet Pilot.
Sweezus: Let's see. Woah! "Live Fast Die Last"! That's cool!
Des: Yeah, they're pretty awesome. They come in black and brown or black and purple.
Katherine: Do you really want to wear a picture of a girl in a coffin, and that motto?
Sweezus: Yeah, but Live Fast Die Last is kind of.... you know.....
Unni: What, exactly?
Des: Is this your sister and your granny?
Sweezus: No way.
Unni: Die LAST? Is it a movie?
Des: I think it's a song. So what, anyway? It's manly. However if granny and sister don't like 'em, how about these ones?
He shows Sweezus a pair of Big Sleeps by Hurley.
Sweezus: Big Sleeps, the street artist? He's unique, man.
Katherine: I can't quite read it. What does it say?
Des: Yeah, he's got this stylised script. Grannies can't read it.
Katherine: It looks like B-I-G S-L-E-E-P-S. And something else I can't.....
Sweezus: Okay. I like them. And what about a tank or a muscle top?
Unni: D'you like this one?
Sweezus: Wicked! Deus ex Machina.
Unni: That's so you.
Katherine: The black goes well with the black and white board shorts. Quite striking.
Des: Goes well with? Striking? Pfff! What's that about?
Sweezus: Heh! She's just kidding. It's tricky shopping with women.
He goes off to try on the Hurley Big Sleeps board shorts and the Deus ex Machina tank top.
Comes back, looking remarkably striking.
Katherine: Very nice. How much will that be?
Des: Hundred and forty five altogether.
Katherine: That's expensive!
Des: The Jet Pilots are cheaper. If he got them it'd only be a hundred and five.
Sweezus: And I like them better.
Katherine: All right, try them on then.
.....
Outside Aquatique Surf Shop:
If you live FAST, says Unni, shouldn't you die FIRST?
No, says Sweezus. You don't get it.
What's dad up to? says Unni.
Ray is leaning over into the back of the ute, poking the lid of the red box with a barbecue fork.
DAD! yelps Unni. Don't take the lid off!
I wasn't, says Ray, straightening up. I was just checking.
.......
Inside the red box ( Schrodinger's box) the Bristlebirds talk quantum mechanics.
Mr Bristlebird: Did you hear that?
Mrs Bristlebird: They're checking.
Mr Bristlebird: If we're alive or dead in this box.
Mrs Bristlebird: And are we?
Mr Bristlebird: What do you think?
Mrs Bristlebird: We'll know when they open it.
Mr Bristlebird: We know already. They'll know when they open it.
Mrs Bristlebird: And if there's only one of us......?
Mr Bristlebird: That will prove that you CAN think about quantum states for large objects.
Thursday, October 22, 2015
Schrodinger's Box
It's only half an hour's drive back to Nowra.
Ray drives the ute, with Katherine beside him.
Sweezus and Unni sit in the back, with the red box.
Sweezus kicks the red box.
What did you do that for? asks Unni.
See if they're alive in there, says Sweezus.
Did you hear anything? asks Unni. I didn't.
Sweezus kicks the box again. If anything it is even more silent.
This is like Schrodinger's box, says Unni.
Schrodinger's box had a cat in it, says Sweezus.
Yes, but this is like it, says Unni, because we don't know if the birds are dead or alive till we open the box.
If it had a cat in it, says Sweezus, we'd know. They'd be cactus.
I agree that would be likely, says Unni. But remember, there's a python in there.
Not a real one, says Sweezus.
But the cat doesn't know that, says Unni.
It would if it looked under my shorts, says Sweezus.
Now you're being disgusting, says Unni.
Come on, says Sweezus. My OLD shorts! The ones the Bristlebirds are wrapped in.
Maybe we should check on them, says Unni. Shall I open the box?
No way, says Sweezus. Leave the lid on.
......
Inside the red box:
Mrs Bristlebird: Schrodinger..... Schrodinger....
Mr Bristlebird: Ah yes. The cat in the box paradox. Do you know it?
Mrs Bristlebird: I do. I wonder if they are wondering if we are alive or dead in this box.
Mr Bristlebird: Probably. We should keep very quiet.
......
In the cabin:
Ray: He looks reasonably respectable, in that outfit.
Katherine: The shorts are quite tight.
Ray: I was thinking more of the top half. Do you think he has feelings for Unni?
Katherine: What a question. Of course he does. She's a lovely girl and so clever.
Ray: I never thought of them in that light before, but the more I think about it....imagine if they were to marry and have children.......
Katherine: Ray, I never realised you were such a romantic!
Ray: It's not that, but I could put up with .....imagine being the grandfather of......it would do wonders for my congregation.....
Katherine: Ray, it's not all about you.
Ray: No, of course not. It was just a notion. He's not going to change his spots anyway.
Katherine: Nothing wrong with his spots.
Ray: Katherine. He has abducted an endangered species.
Katherine: So have we, Ray.
Ray: It's nothing to do with me.
Katherine: Who do you think will end up with those birds, Ray? Who has a bird cage?
Ray: Not me.
Katherine: Then what is that cage in your back garden?
Ray: Oh that, that's for exorcis......never mind. Ah, here we are in Nowra!
Ray drives the ute, with Katherine beside him.
Sweezus and Unni sit in the back, with the red box.
Sweezus kicks the red box.
What did you do that for? asks Unni.
See if they're alive in there, says Sweezus.
Did you hear anything? asks Unni. I didn't.
Sweezus kicks the box again. If anything it is even more silent.
This is like Schrodinger's box, says Unni.
Schrodinger's box had a cat in it, says Sweezus.
Yes, but this is like it, says Unni, because we don't know if the birds are dead or alive till we open the box.
If it had a cat in it, says Sweezus, we'd know. They'd be cactus.
I agree that would be likely, says Unni. But remember, there's a python in there.
Not a real one, says Sweezus.
But the cat doesn't know that, says Unni.
It would if it looked under my shorts, says Sweezus.
Now you're being disgusting, says Unni.
Come on, says Sweezus. My OLD shorts! The ones the Bristlebirds are wrapped in.
Maybe we should check on them, says Unni. Shall I open the box?
No way, says Sweezus. Leave the lid on.
......
Inside the red box:
Mrs Bristlebird: Schrodinger..... Schrodinger....
Mr Bristlebird: Ah yes. The cat in the box paradox. Do you know it?
Mrs Bristlebird: I do. I wonder if they are wondering if we are alive or dead in this box.
Mr Bristlebird: Probably. We should keep very quiet.
......
In the cabin:
Ray: He looks reasonably respectable, in that outfit.
Katherine: The shorts are quite tight.
Ray: I was thinking more of the top half. Do you think he has feelings for Unni?
Katherine: What a question. Of course he does. She's a lovely girl and so clever.
Ray: I never thought of them in that light before, but the more I think about it....imagine if they were to marry and have children.......
Katherine: Ray, I never realised you were such a romantic!
Ray: It's not that, but I could put up with .....imagine being the grandfather of......it would do wonders for my congregation.....
Katherine: Ray, it's not all about you.
Ray: No, of course not. It was just a notion. He's not going to change his spots anyway.
Katherine: Nothing wrong with his spots.
Ray: Katherine. He has abducted an endangered species.
Katherine: So have we, Ray.
Ray: It's nothing to do with me.
Katherine: Who do you think will end up with those birds, Ray? Who has a bird cage?
Ray: Not me.
Katherine: Then what is that cage in your back garden?
Ray: Oh that, that's for exorcis......never mind. Ah, here we are in Nowra!
Nothing To Be Done
So why are these birds the lucky ones? asks Ray.
Gaius wants to teach them another language, says Sweezus
Ray finds this intriguing.
Another BIRD language? asks Ray. Or English?
Could be German, says Sweezus.
No way, says Unni. Too guttural. Where is Gaius now anyway?
Still in Belgium, says Sweezus. With Arthur and Pablo. Writing poetry.
What do Belgians speak? asks Unni. Is it Walloon or something?
No that died out long ago, says Katherine. They speak Dutch and French.
This satisfies everyone, including the Bristlebirds.
Inside the red box:
Mr Bristlebird: I hope it's German bird language
Mrs Bristlebird: I'd like to learn Spanish bird.
Mr Bristlebird: I don't think that was an option.
(moments pass, as they wriggle themselves comfortable on the hard plastic python)
Mr Bristlebird: So, we wait for this Gaius.
Mrs Bristlbird: As long as it takes.
Mr Bristlbird: It's like waiting for Godot
Mrs Bristlebird: Yes.
Mr Bristlebird: Except...
Mrs Bristlebird: Godot never turns up.
Mr Bristlebird: Nothing to be done.
Mrs Bristlebird: No, dear, not nothing.
Outside the red box:
Air flows, faster, then slower. Air comes to a stop.
Ranger Rose: Oh, are you guys leaving?
Sweezus: Yeah, we are.
Ranger Rose: Nice outfit. Did you get those shorts in Melbourne?
Sweezus: Err, no I didn't.
Ray: He looks quite respectable.
Doctor Wallenius: I don't suppose the Bristlebirds made a reappearance.
Ranger Rose: Did you see some? That's wonderful!
Unni: Yes we did, and we have a photo. Want to see?
Ranger Rose: Oh yes, could you send it to my iphone?
Unni: Sure.
Ranger Rose: It's so nice to know people care about endangered species.
Katherine: Yes isn't it.
Doctor Wallenius: I'm off now.
Sweezus: So are we.
Doctor Wallenius: Too bad about the funnel web spider.
Sweezus: Yeah. Too bad.
Doctor Wallenius. At least we know that Bristlebirds are still living in the area.
No one responds to this statement.
Gaius wants to teach them another language, says Sweezus
Ray finds this intriguing.
Another BIRD language? asks Ray. Or English?
Could be German, says Sweezus.
No way, says Unni. Too guttural. Where is Gaius now anyway?
Still in Belgium, says Sweezus. With Arthur and Pablo. Writing poetry.
What do Belgians speak? asks Unni. Is it Walloon or something?
No that died out long ago, says Katherine. They speak Dutch and French.
This satisfies everyone, including the Bristlebirds.
Inside the red box:
Mr Bristlebird: I hope it's German bird language
Mrs Bristlebird: I'd like to learn Spanish bird.
Mr Bristlebird: I don't think that was an option.
(moments pass, as they wriggle themselves comfortable on the hard plastic python)
Mr Bristlebird: So, we wait for this Gaius.
Mrs Bristlbird: As long as it takes.
Mr Bristlbird: It's like waiting for Godot
Mrs Bristlebird: Yes.
Mr Bristlebird: Except...
Mrs Bristlebird: Godot never turns up.
Mr Bristlebird: Nothing to be done.
Mrs Bristlebird: No, dear, not nothing.
Outside the red box:
Air flows, faster, then slower. Air comes to a stop.
Ranger Rose: Oh, are you guys leaving?
Sweezus: Yeah, we are.
Ranger Rose: Nice outfit. Did you get those shorts in Melbourne?
Sweezus: Err, no I didn't.
Ray: He looks quite respectable.
Doctor Wallenius: I don't suppose the Bristlebirds made a reappearance.
Ranger Rose: Did you see some? That's wonderful!
Unni: Yes we did, and we have a photo. Want to see?
Ranger Rose: Oh yes, could you send it to my iphone?
Unni: Sure.
Ranger Rose: It's so nice to know people care about endangered species.
Katherine: Yes isn't it.
Doctor Wallenius: I'm off now.
Sweezus: So are we.
Doctor Wallenius: Too bad about the funnel web spider.
Sweezus: Yeah. Too bad.
Doctor Wallenius. At least we know that Bristlebirds are still living in the area.
No one responds to this statement.
Tuesday, October 20, 2015
The Dad Shirt
Over time, Ray Moon has become more and more disenchanted with Sweezus.
But this takes the cake.
Black underpants.
He just can't take those underpants in.
On the other hand, Sweezus IS wearing a spiked crown of tea tree, and bleeding from various wounds.
Ray pulls himself together. What's happened? asks Ray.
Problem, dad, says Unni. The Bristlebirds went ballistic, and they're tied up inside Sweezie's shorts.
Why not his tee shirt? asks Ray.
I let them out of his tee shirt, says Unni. And it's all smelly and dirty. What we need is that red box from the ute. And a spare pair of shorts and a shirt if you've got them.
Not the Stubbies, says Sweezus.
Ray is offended. What's wrong with Stubbies? They're hard wearing and cheap.
Stubbies or nothing, says Ray. But I've got a nice shirt you can borrow. It's a bit long for me.
Sweezus pictures himself in ray's stubbies which are bound to be way too short and ray's long shirt shit fuck and bugger he'll look like he's not wearing any shorts maybe that's not such a bad thing if they're stubbies but he'll look like a prick anyway, in the shirt.......
Ray goes back to the ute to search out the requirements.
Unni looks at Sweezus.
Don't worry, says Unni. It's quite a nice shirt, for a dad-shirt.
What colour is it? asks Sweezus.
Sort of brownish, says Unni.
Katherine thinks Sweezus looks dejected.
As soon as we get back to Nowra, says Katherine, I'll buy you a new pair of board shorts, as a thank you. And a nice tank top.
See, says Unni. You won't have to wear dad's things for long.
Ray comes back with the Stubbies (navy), the shirt (sort of brownish), and the box (red, containing a 3D printed plastic python).
Awesome dad, says Unni. Now we just need to lift the Bristlebirds into the box without scaring them.
The python might scare them, says Katherine.
Not if we keep them wrapped up in the shorts, says Unni. And leave breathing holes.
Why don't we just let them go? asks Ray.
Because they'll kill me, says Sweezus, emerging from behind a hakea, in navy Stubbies and a long brown shirt which he has had the sense not to button up, so he doesn't look too much of a prick, although that is debatable.
Ha-ha, laughs Unni. The sooner we get to Nowra the better.
She lifts up the seething shorts containing the Bristlebirds.
Katherine takes the lid off the red box.
Unni lowers the shorts into the box, placing them directly on top of the 3D plastic python.
The Bristlebirds shriek in horror. A python!
Katherine quickly presses the lid down.
Okay, says Ray. Has it occurred to anyone that this might be criminal, what we're doing? These birds are critically endangered.
Ray, says Sweezus, has it occurred to you that these birds are the lucky ones?
But this takes the cake.
Black underpants.
He just can't take those underpants in.
On the other hand, Sweezus IS wearing a spiked crown of tea tree, and bleeding from various wounds.
Ray pulls himself together. What's happened? asks Ray.
Problem, dad, says Unni. The Bristlebirds went ballistic, and they're tied up inside Sweezie's shorts.
Why not his tee shirt? asks Ray.
I let them out of his tee shirt, says Unni. And it's all smelly and dirty. What we need is that red box from the ute. And a spare pair of shorts and a shirt if you've got them.
Not the Stubbies, says Sweezus.
Ray is offended. What's wrong with Stubbies? They're hard wearing and cheap.
Stubbies or nothing, says Ray. But I've got a nice shirt you can borrow. It's a bit long for me.
Sweezus pictures himself in ray's stubbies which are bound to be way too short and ray's long shirt shit fuck and bugger he'll look like he's not wearing any shorts maybe that's not such a bad thing if they're stubbies but he'll look like a prick anyway, in the shirt.......
Ray goes back to the ute to search out the requirements.
Unni looks at Sweezus.
Don't worry, says Unni. It's quite a nice shirt, for a dad-shirt.
What colour is it? asks Sweezus.
Sort of brownish, says Unni.
Katherine thinks Sweezus looks dejected.
As soon as we get back to Nowra, says Katherine, I'll buy you a new pair of board shorts, as a thank you. And a nice tank top.
See, says Unni. You won't have to wear dad's things for long.
Ray comes back with the Stubbies (navy), the shirt (sort of brownish), and the box (red, containing a 3D printed plastic python).
Awesome dad, says Unni. Now we just need to lift the Bristlebirds into the box without scaring them.
The python might scare them, says Katherine.
Not if we keep them wrapped up in the shorts, says Unni. And leave breathing holes.
Why don't we just let them go? asks Ray.
Because they'll kill me, says Sweezus, emerging from behind a hakea, in navy Stubbies and a long brown shirt which he has had the sense not to button up, so he doesn't look too much of a prick, although that is debatable.
Ha-ha, laughs Unni. The sooner we get to Nowra the better.
She lifts up the seething shorts containing the Bristlebirds.
Katherine takes the lid off the red box.
Unni lowers the shorts into the box, placing them directly on top of the 3D plastic python.
The Bristlebirds shriek in horror. A python!
Katherine quickly presses the lid down.
Okay, says Ray. Has it occurred to anyone that this might be criminal, what we're doing? These birds are critically endangered.
Ray, says Sweezus, has it occurred to you that these birds are the lucky ones?
Monday, October 19, 2015
Action Air Force Black Underpants
Where's my stretcher? asks Sweezus. Not that I need it now.
That's lucky, says Unni. We couldn't get one. Ranger Rose was on pest duty. Where's your tee shirt?
Peeled it, says Sweezus. Exit the Bristlebirds!
So they've gone, says Unni. Lucky we've got that photo.
They haven't gone, says Katherine. Not yet.
She indicates the lumpy soiled tee shirt, which is writhing gently.
Don't tell me that's them! says Unni. Crikey! They'll be dying in there!
She reaches down. Picks up the tee shirt. Untangles and releases the Bristlebirds.
Unni, dear, says Katherine. Was that a wise action?
The Bristlebirds think so. They right themselves faster than might be expected.
They glance about, sharp-eyed and deadly. Where is HE!
Mr Bristlebird spots him first, standing bare shouldered, next to a xanthorrhoea (xanthorrhoea).
A split second later, Mrs Bristlebird spots him too.
They fly upwards in unison, splitting off like fighter jets in an air force demonstration.
Sweezus is faster. He dives for a low lying tea tree ( L. laevigatum).
The Bristlebirds have no option but to land on his shorts ( Bender Mash, black, lower half orange).
O wow! Sorry! says Unni. I didn't realise they were THAT attached to you. Now what?
Sweezus's voice ripples out from the heart of the tea tree : Freaking DO something!
We could try and net them with the tee shirt, says Katherine.
It's too dirty, says Unni. If only dad was here. We could box them.
Oh yes, the red box would be perfect, says Katherine. Where is Ray?
Driving the kids back to Doris, says Unni. And Doctor Wallenius is waiting for Rose.
Then we must deal with this ourselves, says Katherine.
Do your worst, whistles Mr Bristlebird.
Jeezballs! cries Sweezus, from the centre of the action. Hurry UP guys!
The shorts! says Unni. If we're quick enough we can pull them off with the Bristlebirds inside.
Sweezus considers this plan. ( You should always wear clean underpants.... is he?)
Too late to object now. Unni reaches under his belly and flips open the metal stud. Ping. Then she rips the zip down. Rurp.
At the same time Katherine pulls both shorts legs from the bottom.
The Bristlebirds are once again taken completely by surprise.
Before they can defecate in terror or whistle, they are tied up inside a warm pair of Bender Mash board shorts (lower half orange)
This time they will not be allowed to escape.
Sweezus backs himself out of the tea tree and scrambles upright, revealing a reasonably clean pair of black underpants.
Thank you ladies, says Sweezus, just as Ray Moon appears in the clearing.
That's lucky, says Unni. We couldn't get one. Ranger Rose was on pest duty. Where's your tee shirt?
Peeled it, says Sweezus. Exit the Bristlebirds!
So they've gone, says Unni. Lucky we've got that photo.
They haven't gone, says Katherine. Not yet.
She indicates the lumpy soiled tee shirt, which is writhing gently.
Don't tell me that's them! says Unni. Crikey! They'll be dying in there!
She reaches down. Picks up the tee shirt. Untangles and releases the Bristlebirds.
Unni, dear, says Katherine. Was that a wise action?
The Bristlebirds think so. They right themselves faster than might be expected.
They glance about, sharp-eyed and deadly. Where is HE!
Mr Bristlebird spots him first, standing bare shouldered, next to a xanthorrhoea (xanthorrhoea).
A split second later, Mrs Bristlebird spots him too.
They fly upwards in unison, splitting off like fighter jets in an air force demonstration.
Sweezus is faster. He dives for a low lying tea tree ( L. laevigatum).
The Bristlebirds have no option but to land on his shorts ( Bender Mash, black, lower half orange).
O wow! Sorry! says Unni. I didn't realise they were THAT attached to you. Now what?
Sweezus's voice ripples out from the heart of the tea tree : Freaking DO something!
We could try and net them with the tee shirt, says Katherine.
It's too dirty, says Unni. If only dad was here. We could box them.
Oh yes, the red box would be perfect, says Katherine. Where is Ray?
Driving the kids back to Doris, says Unni. And Doctor Wallenius is waiting for Rose.
Then we must deal with this ourselves, says Katherine.
Do your worst, whistles Mr Bristlebird.
Jeezballs! cries Sweezus, from the centre of the action. Hurry UP guys!
The shorts! says Unni. If we're quick enough we can pull them off with the Bristlebirds inside.
Sweezus considers this plan. ( You should always wear clean underpants.... is he?)
Too late to object now. Unni reaches under his belly and flips open the metal stud. Ping. Then she rips the zip down. Rurp.
At the same time Katherine pulls both shorts legs from the bottom.
The Bristlebirds are once again taken completely by surprise.
Before they can defecate in terror or whistle, they are tied up inside a warm pair of Bender Mash board shorts (lower half orange)
This time they will not be allowed to escape.
Sweezus backs himself out of the tea tree and scrambles upright, revealing a reasonably clean pair of black underpants.
Thank you ladies, says Sweezus, just as Ray Moon appears in the clearing.
Sunday, October 18, 2015
Fuck Knows And Nietzsche
It's bird shit, says Sweezus. I hate my life.
Come on dear, it's not that bad, says Katherine. Sit down and wait for the stretcher.
Sweezus sits down on the grass with the Bristlebirds perched on his shoulders.
Those birds love you, says Katherine.
Look again, says Sweezus.
Katherine looks again at the Bristlebirds, whose eyes speak not of affection.
Shoo! says Katherine, flapping her hands at the Bristlebirds.
Mrs Bristlebird shifts one claw slightly.
Mr Bristlebird whistles a melodious tune.
I suppose I should pick up my trainers, says Katherine.
She walks over to the hollow log where her egg-and-baby smeared trainers are mellowing.
Sweezus closes his eyes to shut out reality.
But reality is in there, behind.
Gaius wants the bristlebirds... wants to teach them another language, how mental is that, latest science yeah latest science in ANTWERP, where was that café ... what was it called... yeah the kleine hedonist and arthur and pablo slow drinking, lucky buggers, and making up crap poetry about fuck knows and nietzsche......
Sweezus sits up.
Oh-yeah! Sometimes the best thing to do is shut your eyes and follow your logical thought processes.
He rips off his tee shirt in one swift movement, taking the Bristlebirds by surprise.
Now they are both swaddled up inside his stinky (but yeah, their OWN shit ) bird infested tee shirt.
Yewh! Wriggling and squawking. He ties the bottom of the tee like a compost bag corner to corner.
He ties up the sleeves. Tucks the neck in.
Katherine has been watching.
What on earth are you doing? says Katherine.
I'm doing what Arthur would do, says Sweezus.
Arthur, says Katherine, never thinks about consequences.
Yeah, well, says Sweezus. What are the consequences?
First of all, you'll be chilly, says Katherine.
Unni bursts into the clearing.
Sees Sweezus without his top on.
Babe magnet. He cleans up nicely.
Come on dear, it's not that bad, says Katherine. Sit down and wait for the stretcher.
Sweezus sits down on the grass with the Bristlebirds perched on his shoulders.
Those birds love you, says Katherine.
Look again, says Sweezus.
Katherine looks again at the Bristlebirds, whose eyes speak not of affection.
Shoo! says Katherine, flapping her hands at the Bristlebirds.
Mrs Bristlebird shifts one claw slightly.
Mr Bristlebird whistles a melodious tune.
I suppose I should pick up my trainers, says Katherine.
She walks over to the hollow log where her egg-and-baby smeared trainers are mellowing.
Sweezus closes his eyes to shut out reality.
But reality is in there, behind.
Gaius wants the bristlebirds... wants to teach them another language, how mental is that, latest science yeah latest science in ANTWERP, where was that café ... what was it called... yeah the kleine hedonist and arthur and pablo slow drinking, lucky buggers, and making up crap poetry about fuck knows and nietzsche......
Sweezus sits up.
Oh-yeah! Sometimes the best thing to do is shut your eyes and follow your logical thought processes.
He rips off his tee shirt in one swift movement, taking the Bristlebirds by surprise.
Now they are both swaddled up inside his stinky (but yeah, their OWN shit ) bird infested tee shirt.
Yewh! Wriggling and squawking. He ties the bottom of the tee like a compost bag corner to corner.
He ties up the sleeves. Tucks the neck in.
Katherine has been watching.
What on earth are you doing? says Katherine.
I'm doing what Arthur would do, says Sweezus.
Arthur, says Katherine, never thinks about consequences.
Yeah, well, says Sweezus. What are the consequences?
First of all, you'll be chilly, says Katherine.
Unni bursts into the clearing.
Sees Sweezus without his top on.
Babe magnet. He cleans up nicely.
Saturday, October 17, 2015
Hedonism: The Pleasure Paradox
Sweezus thinks quickly.
How are things going? Not very well.
But Gaius hasn't yet paid him.
Good, says Sweezus. We found one of that new species of funnel web. A female.
Wonderful! says Gaius. I knew you would! And you captured her?
Not exactly, says Sweezus, but there's good news and bad news.
Tell me the bad news, says Gaius.
She was startled, and fell out of her hollow log, says Sweezus, and .....
Ran away? says Gaius,
Was eaten, says Sweezus.
In front of your eyes? says Gaius.
Kind of, says Sweezus
Why didn't you ....... what was it that ate her?
That's the good news, says Sweezus.
He tells Gaius about the two Eastern Bristlebirds.
Is Doctor Wallenius with you? asks Gaius. Let me speak with him.
No, says Sweezus. I'm all alone in this clearing with two Bristlebirds stuck to my shoulders.
Gaius lets this pass. Sweezus is probably joking.
Sweezus hopes Gaius thinks he is probably joking. He hadn't meant to give the true situation away.
How's Antwerp? asks Sweezus. Did you meet up with Arthur?
I did, says Gaius. Thanks to your advice, I called Pablo.
Bugger! exclaims Sweezus.
Mrs Bristlebird looks apologetic. Sorry. Upset tummy. Must be the spider.
Pardon? says Gaius.
Nothing, says Sweezus. Go ahead. So what's Arthur up to?
He and Pablo have ensconced themselves in de Kleine Hedonist, says Gaius. It's very pleasant. They are practising something once recommended by Nietzsche, called slow drinking.
Nietzsche? says Sweezus. No way! Nietzsche recommended slow reading!
You don't say, says Gaius. Well I must ask them to explain the discrepancy. I gather you know your Nietzsche and aren't just making mischief.
Yeah well... says Sweezus. That might be what they do in cafe Hedonist.
De Kleine Hedonist, says Gaius. And yes, they do a great deal of talking. The other night it was all about the pain associated with pleasure. Arthur came up with a poem. Of course I can't remember it.
If I was there, mutters Sweezus, I'd remember it.
What's that? says Gaius. This call is costing me a fortune. I just wanted to see how things were going. Don't lose those birds. When I get back I shall try teaching them another language. It's the latest development in bird science. Very .......
The call cuts itself off.
Did you hear that, dear? says Mr Bristlebird. His friend wants to teach us another language.
He must think we're parrots, says Mrs Bristlebird.
Sweezus grimaces as her claws dig into his shoulder, and a bad smell rises.
Where is everyone? Why have they left him alone in the clearing?
Katherine emerges from behind a tree adjusting her clothing.
That's better, says Katherine. Oh you've come to! The others have gone for a stretcher! What's that mess on your shoulder?
How are things going? Not very well.
But Gaius hasn't yet paid him.
Good, says Sweezus. We found one of that new species of funnel web. A female.
Wonderful! says Gaius. I knew you would! And you captured her?
Not exactly, says Sweezus, but there's good news and bad news.
Tell me the bad news, says Gaius.
She was startled, and fell out of her hollow log, says Sweezus, and .....
Ran away? says Gaius,
Was eaten, says Sweezus.
In front of your eyes? says Gaius.
Kind of, says Sweezus
Why didn't you ....... what was it that ate her?
That's the good news, says Sweezus.
He tells Gaius about the two Eastern Bristlebirds.
Is Doctor Wallenius with you? asks Gaius. Let me speak with him.
No, says Sweezus. I'm all alone in this clearing with two Bristlebirds stuck to my shoulders.
Gaius lets this pass. Sweezus is probably joking.
Sweezus hopes Gaius thinks he is probably joking. He hadn't meant to give the true situation away.
How's Antwerp? asks Sweezus. Did you meet up with Arthur?
I did, says Gaius. Thanks to your advice, I called Pablo.
Bugger! exclaims Sweezus.
Mrs Bristlebird looks apologetic. Sorry. Upset tummy. Must be the spider.
Pardon? says Gaius.
Nothing, says Sweezus. Go ahead. So what's Arthur up to?
He and Pablo have ensconced themselves in de Kleine Hedonist, says Gaius. It's very pleasant. They are practising something once recommended by Nietzsche, called slow drinking.
Nietzsche? says Sweezus. No way! Nietzsche recommended slow reading!
You don't say, says Gaius. Well I must ask them to explain the discrepancy. I gather you know your Nietzsche and aren't just making mischief.
Yeah well... says Sweezus. That might be what they do in cafe Hedonist.
De Kleine Hedonist, says Gaius. And yes, they do a great deal of talking. The other night it was all about the pain associated with pleasure. Arthur came up with a poem. Of course I can't remember it.
If I was there, mutters Sweezus, I'd remember it.
What's that? says Gaius. This call is costing me a fortune. I just wanted to see how things were going. Don't lose those birds. When I get back I shall try teaching them another language. It's the latest development in bird science. Very .......
The call cuts itself off.
Did you hear that, dear? says Mr Bristlebird. His friend wants to teach us another language.
He must think we're parrots, says Mrs Bristlebird.
Sweezus grimaces as her claws dig into his shoulder, and a bad smell rises.
Where is everyone? Why have they left him alone in the clearing?
Katherine emerges from behind a tree adjusting her clothing.
That's better, says Katherine. Oh you've come to! The others have gone for a stretcher! What's that mess on your shoulder?
Friday, October 16, 2015
Knows What Whales Are Thinking
Calm down, Sweezie, says Unni. Keep still.
Sweezus is feeling all shivery. His throat buzzes. The bird's claws are like nails.
Remarkable, says Doctor Wallenius. These birds are normally shy. They skulk in dense vegetation. Yet here we see one perching boldly on a human shoulder.
Sweezus takes several deep breaths. Mrs Bristlebird bobs up and down, showing her pale dappled underparts.
Her long brown tail feathers brush past his ear. His teeth chatter.
That's right, smile, says Unni, taking her phone out and snapping a picture.
I'm not smiling, says Sweezus. Can someone please help me?
I'll help you, says Ray.
Good on you, dad, says Unni.
He makes a grab at Mrs Bristlebird, who pecks Ray hard on the pinkie.
If we could capture her, says Doctor Wallenius, we could tag her, and follow her movements. Why would we do that, boys?
For science, says Keanu (number one smart arse)
And then we'd know when she dies, says Beau (number two)
Mrs Bristlebird has no intention of allowing science to know when she dies. She has only one intention. To follow Sweezus, wherever he's going, and get her babies back.
Sit down, Sweezie, says Unni. She might hop off you.
Sweezus sits down. Mrs Bristlebird sits down too, and doesn't hop off him.
Urghh, says Sweezus. Some vom has come up from his stomach. His face has turned green.
I'm surprised you have this aversion to birds, says Doctor Wallenius. Considering.
It's only birds, says Unni. He's fine with EVERY other creature. Aren't you, Sweezie.
Sweezus nods weakly.
He can even communicate with some of them, says Unni. Like whales. He knows what they're thinking.
Sweezus tries to remember what happened to make Unni think that.
Oh yeah, that time at Victor Harbour. When Farky drifted out to sea on a surfboard. Shit no, wasn't that ....sharks?
And dogs, says Unni.
Water! says Sweezus.
Can you? asks Unni. Now that IS amazing!
I want some, says Sweezus.
Oh, says Unni. Has anyone got any water?
Doctor Wallenius naturally has brought some.
Sweezus drinks the water (tap water).
But he feels slightly better.
He turns his head to get a proper look at his Nemesis.
She stares back at him through her rictal hairy sunnies.
Sweezus blacks out.
When he comes to, he is alone in the clearing, with a bird on each shoulder, and his phone ringing.
Biddly-biddly-bee!
Whaaa.... answers Sweezus.
It's me, says Gaius. I'm still in Antwerp. How are things going?
Sweezus is feeling all shivery. His throat buzzes. The bird's claws are like nails.
Remarkable, says Doctor Wallenius. These birds are normally shy. They skulk in dense vegetation. Yet here we see one perching boldly on a human shoulder.
Sweezus takes several deep breaths. Mrs Bristlebird bobs up and down, showing her pale dappled underparts.
Her long brown tail feathers brush past his ear. His teeth chatter.
That's right, smile, says Unni, taking her phone out and snapping a picture.
I'm not smiling, says Sweezus. Can someone please help me?
I'll help you, says Ray.
Good on you, dad, says Unni.
He makes a grab at Mrs Bristlebird, who pecks Ray hard on the pinkie.
If we could capture her, says Doctor Wallenius, we could tag her, and follow her movements. Why would we do that, boys?
For science, says Keanu (number one smart arse)
And then we'd know when she dies, says Beau (number two)
Mrs Bristlebird has no intention of allowing science to know when she dies. She has only one intention. To follow Sweezus, wherever he's going, and get her babies back.
Sit down, Sweezie, says Unni. She might hop off you.
Sweezus sits down. Mrs Bristlebird sits down too, and doesn't hop off him.
Urghh, says Sweezus. Some vom has come up from his stomach. His face has turned green.
I'm surprised you have this aversion to birds, says Doctor Wallenius. Considering.
It's only birds, says Unni. He's fine with EVERY other creature. Aren't you, Sweezie.
Sweezus nods weakly.
He can even communicate with some of them, says Unni. Like whales. He knows what they're thinking.
Sweezus tries to remember what happened to make Unni think that.
Oh yeah, that time at Victor Harbour. When Farky drifted out to sea on a surfboard. Shit no, wasn't that ....sharks?
And dogs, says Unni.
Water! says Sweezus.
Can you? asks Unni. Now that IS amazing!
I want some, says Sweezus.
Oh, says Unni. Has anyone got any water?
Doctor Wallenius naturally has brought some.
Sweezus drinks the water (tap water).
But he feels slightly better.
He turns his head to get a proper look at his Nemesis.
She stares back at him through her rictal hairy sunnies.
Sweezus blacks out.
When he comes to, he is alone in the clearing, with a bird on each shoulder, and his phone ringing.
Biddly-biddly-bee!
Whaaa.... answers Sweezus.
It's me, says Gaius. I'm still in Antwerp. How are things going?
Thursday, October 15, 2015
Naughty Tactile Function
The Bristlebirds flutter closer, waiting for Karma.
It comes.
Doctor Wallenius stands up, as though he is giving a lecture.
The function of rictal bristles around the beak of the Bristlebird is uncertain, begins Doctor Wallenius. Do they act as a net, to capture flying prey?
He looks around as though expecting an answer.
No? says Keanu.
Don't rule it out, says Doctor Wallenius.
Sweezus tries to picture the stiff hairlike feathers, acting as a net to capture flying prey.
Freaky.
To protect their eyes? suggests Doctor Wallenius.
Freakier. Hairy sunnies.
The Bristlebirds have edged even closer. They are now above Katherine's head.
Do they perhaps serve a tactile function? continues Doctor Wallenius.
Yes? says Beau. (At school option three is often the answer).
What tactile function would that be? asks Unni.
Yes, what tactile function? whispers Mr Bristlebird.
Hee hee, gurgles Mrs Bristlebird. Naughty.
Mechanoreceptors sensitive to vibration and pressure, found in association with rictal bristles, may help with navigation and detection of prey, says Doctor Wallenius.
Navigation my tailfeathers! We never go anywhere, exclaims Mrs Bristlebird.
Where would we go, dear? enquires Mr Bristlebird.
I don't know, answers Mrs Bristlebird. But the idea's in my head now.
.....or information gathering during flight, or with handling of prey, finishes Doctor Wallenius. So, what does everyone think? You, Katherine? Katherine? May I ask what's so funny?
I was thinking, says Katherine, something quite funny.
What was it? pursues Doctor Wallenius.
Yes, Katherine, what was it? says Ray.
Well, if you must know, says Katherine, I thought it would be funny if a New Zealander said rictal bristles.
How come? asks Keanu.
His or her audience might make a wrong assumption, says Katherine.
Doctor Wallenius smiles briefly. He gets it.
I still don't get it, says Keanu.
The Bristlebirds don't get it either.
They hop over to a branch above Sweezus. At least he is a serious person. And he made them that promise.
Suddenly Mrs Bristlebird has an epiphany. Now she KNOWS WHERE SHE'S GOING.
She hops down to the shoulder of Sweezus.
EE-YAH! yells Sweezus. Get it OFF me!
Doctor Wallenius is shocked.
How could Gaius's man not like BIRDS?
It comes.
Doctor Wallenius stands up, as though he is giving a lecture.
The function of rictal bristles around the beak of the Bristlebird is uncertain, begins Doctor Wallenius. Do they act as a net, to capture flying prey?
He looks around as though expecting an answer.
No? says Keanu.
Don't rule it out, says Doctor Wallenius.
Sweezus tries to picture the stiff hairlike feathers, acting as a net to capture flying prey.
Freaky.
To protect their eyes? suggests Doctor Wallenius.
Freakier. Hairy sunnies.
The Bristlebirds have edged even closer. They are now above Katherine's head.
Do they perhaps serve a tactile function? continues Doctor Wallenius.
Yes? says Beau. (At school option three is often the answer).
What tactile function would that be? asks Unni.
Yes, what tactile function? whispers Mr Bristlebird.
Hee hee, gurgles Mrs Bristlebird. Naughty.
Mechanoreceptors sensitive to vibration and pressure, found in association with rictal bristles, may help with navigation and detection of prey, says Doctor Wallenius.
Navigation my tailfeathers! We never go anywhere, exclaims Mrs Bristlebird.
Where would we go, dear? enquires Mr Bristlebird.
I don't know, answers Mrs Bristlebird. But the idea's in my head now.
.....or information gathering during flight, or with handling of prey, finishes Doctor Wallenius. So, what does everyone think? You, Katherine? Katherine? May I ask what's so funny?
I was thinking, says Katherine, something quite funny.
What was it? pursues Doctor Wallenius.
Yes, Katherine, what was it? says Ray.
Well, if you must know, says Katherine, I thought it would be funny if a New Zealander said rictal bristles.
How come? asks Keanu.
His or her audience might make a wrong assumption, says Katherine.
Doctor Wallenius smiles briefly. He gets it.
I still don't get it, says Keanu.
The Bristlebirds don't get it either.
They hop over to a branch above Sweezus. At least he is a serious person. And he made them that promise.
Suddenly Mrs Bristlebird has an epiphany. Now she KNOWS WHERE SHE'S GOING.
She hops down to the shoulder of Sweezus.
EE-YAH! yells Sweezus. Get it OFF me!
Doctor Wallenius is shocked.
How could Gaius's man not like BIRDS?
Karma, Or Not Getting Your Own Back
Sometimes we know something isn't going to happen.
Like the bird remains on Katherine's trainers. No way they will come good.
None the less, something is owing.
.........
Stay here, Katherine, says Unni. I'll go back to the ute for some shoes.
That's kind, dear, says Katherine, sinking onto a grass tuft. What a morning!
Yes, WHAT a morning! agrees Doctor Wallenius. The new species of funnel web spider was within my grasp, but was eaten at the last moment by a pair of critically endangered Eastern Bristlebirds. I suppose you could call it Karma.
I suppose so, says Katherine. I wonder what the Bristlebirds would call it.
They have no reason to call it anything, says Doctor Wallenius. Their situation's unchanged.
Except they have eaten a poisonous dinner, says Ray.
I doubt the venom will affect them adversely, says Doctor Wallenius
The Bristlebirds in their leafy tree smirk at one another.
Their digestive systems cope reasonably well with such things, adds Doctor Wallenius. A mild tummy upset, maybe.
Mr Bristlebird clenches his sphincter. Nothing doing.
Yeah, says Sweezus, it is kind of like Karma.
I just said so, says Doctor Wallenius.
I meant for the Bristlebirds, says Sweezus. They attacked Katherine.
That was AFTER, says Katherine.
After what ? asks Doctor Wallenius.
After she TREADED on their babies, says Keanu. Look at her trainers!
Trod, says Sweezus. Trod on their babies.
I wasn't going to mention it, says Katherine, but yes I did tread on their babies. I feel dreadful.
Is that what this mess is? asks Doctor Wallenius, picking at the dried bird flesh and squashed strings of baby eye nerves on Katherine's trainers.
Yes, says Katherine. I don't suppose you could extract DNA and clone them?
No, says Doctor Wallenius. That is not the procedure we follow with critically endangered species.
The Bristlebirds look at one another. What is cloning?
And what about Karma?
Unni comes back with tissues, and a spare pair of shoes.
Thanks Unni, says Katherine.
So, were they Eastern Bristlebirds? asks Unni.
Oh yes, says Doctor Wallenius. Pity we didn't get a photo.
Does anyone know what their bristles are for? asks Unni.
I know what mine are for, says Sweezus.
IDIOT, says Unni. I mean the birds' rictal bristles.
I know! says Keanu, the smart arse.
I bet you don't, says Doctor Wallenius. Because nobody does. But there are several theories.
The Bristlebirds prick open their ear holes.
At last, some enlightenment.
Maybe it's Karma.
The thing that was owing.
Like the bird remains on Katherine's trainers. No way they will come good.
None the less, something is owing.
.........
Stay here, Katherine, says Unni. I'll go back to the ute for some shoes.
That's kind, dear, says Katherine, sinking onto a grass tuft. What a morning!
Yes, WHAT a morning! agrees Doctor Wallenius. The new species of funnel web spider was within my grasp, but was eaten at the last moment by a pair of critically endangered Eastern Bristlebirds. I suppose you could call it Karma.
I suppose so, says Katherine. I wonder what the Bristlebirds would call it.
They have no reason to call it anything, says Doctor Wallenius. Their situation's unchanged.
Except they have eaten a poisonous dinner, says Ray.
I doubt the venom will affect them adversely, says Doctor Wallenius
The Bristlebirds in their leafy tree smirk at one another.
Their digestive systems cope reasonably well with such things, adds Doctor Wallenius. A mild tummy upset, maybe.
Mr Bristlebird clenches his sphincter. Nothing doing.
Yeah, says Sweezus, it is kind of like Karma.
I just said so, says Doctor Wallenius.
I meant for the Bristlebirds, says Sweezus. They attacked Katherine.
That was AFTER, says Katherine.
After what ? asks Doctor Wallenius.
After she TREADED on their babies, says Keanu. Look at her trainers!
Trod, says Sweezus. Trod on their babies.
I wasn't going to mention it, says Katherine, but yes I did tread on their babies. I feel dreadful.
Is that what this mess is? asks Doctor Wallenius, picking at the dried bird flesh and squashed strings of baby eye nerves on Katherine's trainers.
Yes, says Katherine. I don't suppose you could extract DNA and clone them?
No, says Doctor Wallenius. That is not the procedure we follow with critically endangered species.
The Bristlebirds look at one another. What is cloning?
And what about Karma?
Unni comes back with tissues, and a spare pair of shoes.
Thanks Unni, says Katherine.
So, were they Eastern Bristlebirds? asks Unni.
Oh yes, says Doctor Wallenius. Pity we didn't get a photo.
Does anyone know what their bristles are for? asks Unni.
I know what mine are for, says Sweezus.
IDIOT, says Unni. I mean the birds' rictal bristles.
I know! says Keanu, the smart arse.
I bet you don't, says Doctor Wallenius. Because nobody does. But there are several theories.
The Bristlebirds prick open their ear holes.
At last, some enlightenment.
Maybe it's Karma.
The thing that was owing.
Tuesday, October 13, 2015
Red In Beak And Claw
Doctor Wallenius is in a crouching position at one end of the rotten log.
He has been there for ages.
The female funnel web spider is at the other end of the rotten log, inside her silk lined burrow.
Not coming out.
Is waiting the only option? asks Ray. Surely there are more active methods of extraction.
Yes there are active methods, says Doctor Wallenius. Can anyone tell me what they are?
I can, says Keanu ( little smart arse). You could use a pooter.
Well done, says Doctor Wallenius. And why won't I use one today?
Because you might swallow the spider, says Beau.
Good answer, says Doctor Wallenius. The pooter is only used to suck up small creatures, and then blow them out into a container. So the pooter is too small to suck up this large female arachnid.
Can you see her? asks Unni.
I can, says Doctor Wallenius.
Why don't you go to the other end of the log and come up behind her? asks Ray.
Great plan, says Doctor Wallenius. Who'll keep guard at this end?
Me, says Keanu. And me, says Beau.
Okay, says Doctor Wallenius. Here's a Ziploc bag each. Wear it like a glove. If she jumps out don't panic.
They can't jump, says Beau ( first class smart arse)
Just be prepared, says Doctor Wallenius.
Remaining in a crouching position he waddles to the far end of the rotten log and peers in.
The female funnel web spider is unprepared for a rear entry.
Doctor Wallenius produces his entomology forceps. His hand moves forward gently, gently....
But then...
Sweezus breaks through the undergrowth, with the aid of Katherine's bird smeared trainers.
Crash-smash-tash!
Followed by Katherine, with little assistance.
Oooo-ooh! says Katherine. My poor FEET!
Katherine! cries Unni, What's all that blood on your face? And why aren't you wearing your trainers?
Long story, says Sweezus, placing the trainers on top of the rotten log, as two Bristlebirds settle softly on a branch at the edge of the clearing.
Damn! says Doctor Wallenius.
The female funnel web spider does not jump exactly, but something quite like it.
Now she runs to the other end of her silk lined burrow, and freezes at the entrance.
There she IS! cries what looks like a Ziploc bag, opening to swallow her.
She drops to the floor of the forest, and hides under a pile of dead leaves.
Did you see that dear? says Mr Bristlebird. Fancy a morsel?
I certainly wouldn't say no, says Mrs Bristlebird.
Mr Bristlebird darts down and nabs the female funnel web spider. With one snap she is one half demolished. The other half is borne aloft to his missus.
Did you see that! cries Unni.
Yes, says Tom Wallenius, disappointed.
They look like Eastern Bristlebirds! cries Unni. What do you think, dad?
Ray thinks they look like Eastern Bristlebirds.
The Bristlebirds are alarmed at all this attention. They fly upwards.
On the way up, they bethink themselves. They can't leave their babies, smeared all over the trainers of that blundering woman. What about the promise of restoration that Sweezus has made them?
They fly downwards, perching just out of sight of Team Spider.
He has been there for ages.
The female funnel web spider is at the other end of the rotten log, inside her silk lined burrow.
Not coming out.
Is waiting the only option? asks Ray. Surely there are more active methods of extraction.
Yes there are active methods, says Doctor Wallenius. Can anyone tell me what they are?
I can, says Keanu ( little smart arse). You could use a pooter.
Well done, says Doctor Wallenius. And why won't I use one today?
Because you might swallow the spider, says Beau.
Good answer, says Doctor Wallenius. The pooter is only used to suck up small creatures, and then blow them out into a container. So the pooter is too small to suck up this large female arachnid.
Can you see her? asks Unni.
I can, says Doctor Wallenius.
Why don't you go to the other end of the log and come up behind her? asks Ray.
Great plan, says Doctor Wallenius. Who'll keep guard at this end?
Me, says Keanu. And me, says Beau.
Okay, says Doctor Wallenius. Here's a Ziploc bag each. Wear it like a glove. If she jumps out don't panic.
They can't jump, says Beau ( first class smart arse)
Just be prepared, says Doctor Wallenius.
Remaining in a crouching position he waddles to the far end of the rotten log and peers in.
The female funnel web spider is unprepared for a rear entry.
Doctor Wallenius produces his entomology forceps. His hand moves forward gently, gently....
But then...
Sweezus breaks through the undergrowth, with the aid of Katherine's bird smeared trainers.
Crash-smash-tash!
Followed by Katherine, with little assistance.
Oooo-ooh! says Katherine. My poor FEET!
Katherine! cries Unni, What's all that blood on your face? And why aren't you wearing your trainers?
Long story, says Sweezus, placing the trainers on top of the rotten log, as two Bristlebirds settle softly on a branch at the edge of the clearing.
Damn! says Doctor Wallenius.
The female funnel web spider does not jump exactly, but something quite like it.
Now she runs to the other end of her silk lined burrow, and freezes at the entrance.
There she IS! cries what looks like a Ziploc bag, opening to swallow her.
She drops to the floor of the forest, and hides under a pile of dead leaves.
Did you see that dear? says Mr Bristlebird. Fancy a morsel?
I certainly wouldn't say no, says Mrs Bristlebird.
Mr Bristlebird darts down and nabs the female funnel web spider. With one snap she is one half demolished. The other half is borne aloft to his missus.
Did you see that! cries Unni.
Yes, says Tom Wallenius, disappointed.
They look like Eastern Bristlebirds! cries Unni. What do you think, dad?
Ray thinks they look like Eastern Bristlebirds.
The Bristlebirds are alarmed at all this attention. They fly upwards.
On the way up, they bethink themselves. They can't leave their babies, smeared all over the trainers of that blundering woman. What about the promise of restoration that Sweezus has made them?
They fly downwards, perching just out of sight of Team Spider.
Monday, October 12, 2015
The Warrior And Her Cruel Rescue
The blood has dried in two vertical lines on Katherine's face.
She looks like a warrior (kind of scary). But that's where the similarity ends.
Sweezus hasn't arrived yet.
He is heading in her direction, but slowly.
Slowly.....towards his worst nightmare.
A confrontation with birds.
To boost his courage he thinks about Terence.
Terence marching up to a Bristlebird.
Terence informing the Bristlebird it looks like a Parrot.
The Bristlebird being disarmed by Terence.
Yep.
Good role model, Sweezus.
........
Sweezus breaks into the clearing.
Katherine! Man, you look like a warrior!
Thank you, says Katherine. I feel like a murderer.
Yeah, says Sweezus. That too.
From the branches of Katherine's tree two Bristlebirds beam down their hatred.
Sweezus looks into four beady eyes of malevolence.
Now is the time to say: Hello my parrots!
Who knows whether this would have worked?
He can't do it. They don't look like parrots.
(Grey-brown with pale underpants).
I'm afraid to move, says Katherine. Do something.
But Sweezus seems to be practising Zen, and does nothing.
What's he doing? asks Mrs Bristlebird.
Nothing, says Mr Bristlebird.
They are wrong. Sweezus is thinking. Thinking about what to do next.
Where're the eggs that you stepped on? asks Sweezus.
Mainly here, says Katherine, lifting her trainers, which are yellow with goo and red with tiny flesh smears, and dotted with squeezed-out black eyes.
Awesome! says Sweezus, loudly. Looks like we can save them.
It does? says Katherine.
Yep. If we can get them to Doctor Wallenius, says Sweezus.
Did you hear that, dear? says Mr Bristlebird.
I did, says Mrs Bristlebird. You were right. We get everything back.
We're not out of the woods yet, says Mr Bristlebird. But we have HOPE now.
HOPE for our babies, says Mrs Bristlebird. Let's follow them, at a safe distance.
Katherine takes off her trainers and gives them to Sweezus.
He carries them tenderly to the edge of the clearing. She follows him, hobbling.
Ouch! Ouch! It's horrible walking on dry nut cases.
But thank heavens the Bristlebirds are neutralised, for the moment.
She looks like a warrior (kind of scary). But that's where the similarity ends.
Sweezus hasn't arrived yet.
He is heading in her direction, but slowly.
Slowly.....towards his worst nightmare.
A confrontation with birds.
To boost his courage he thinks about Terence.
Terence marching up to a Bristlebird.
Terence informing the Bristlebird it looks like a Parrot.
The Bristlebird being disarmed by Terence.
Yep.
Good role model, Sweezus.
........
Sweezus breaks into the clearing.
Katherine! Man, you look like a warrior!
Thank you, says Katherine. I feel like a murderer.
Yeah, says Sweezus. That too.
From the branches of Katherine's tree two Bristlebirds beam down their hatred.
Sweezus looks into four beady eyes of malevolence.
Now is the time to say: Hello my parrots!
Who knows whether this would have worked?
He can't do it. They don't look like parrots.
(Grey-brown with pale underpants).
I'm afraid to move, says Katherine. Do something.
But Sweezus seems to be practising Zen, and does nothing.
What's he doing? asks Mrs Bristlebird.
Nothing, says Mr Bristlebird.
They are wrong. Sweezus is thinking. Thinking about what to do next.
Where're the eggs that you stepped on? asks Sweezus.
Mainly here, says Katherine, lifting her trainers, which are yellow with goo and red with tiny flesh smears, and dotted with squeezed-out black eyes.
Awesome! says Sweezus, loudly. Looks like we can save them.
It does? says Katherine.
Yep. If we can get them to Doctor Wallenius, says Sweezus.
Did you hear that, dear? says Mr Bristlebird.
I did, says Mrs Bristlebird. You were right. We get everything back.
We're not out of the woods yet, says Mr Bristlebird. But we have HOPE now.
HOPE for our babies, says Mrs Bristlebird. Let's follow them, at a safe distance.
Katherine takes off her trainers and gives them to Sweezus.
He carries them tenderly to the edge of the clearing. She follows him, hobbling.
Ouch! Ouch! It's horrible walking on dry nut cases.
But thank heavens the Bristlebirds are neutralised, for the moment.
Sunday, October 11, 2015
Suck It Up Dear
Mrs Bristlebird is not about to let Katherine get away with killing her babies.
She flies down and pecks Katherine's head.
Oh! Oh! cries Katherine, flailing wildly.
Mrs Bristlebird returns to her mate (Mr Bristlebird).
My dear, says Mr Bristlebird. What purpose did that serve?
Retribution, says Mrs Bristlebird.
After my perusal of the Book of Job, says Mr Bristlebird, I believe the best course of action is to suck up the punishment.
Oh, come ON! says Mrs Bristlebird.
No really, says Mr Bristlebird. Turns out bad things are just a test. Evil purposes should not be thwarted.
I'm quite sure you read that wrong, says Mrs Bristlebird. It was upside down remember. What happens to this Job person anyway?
He gets EVERYTHING back, says Mr Bristlebird. As soon as he stops COMPLAINING.
Mrs Bristlebird remains unconvinced. She is glad she pecked Katherine.
Katherine is feeling the top of her head. It is sticky, in two places.
She only has one dirty tissue. Better not use it.
Two lines of blood drip down her forehead and both sides of her nose.
She decides she had better call Sweezus .
Biddly-biddly-BEE! Biddly-biddly-BEE! ( his new ringtone).
Katherine, says Sweezus. We're just creeping up on the spider. What's up?
I've done something stupid, says Katherine. I don't like to tell you.
Try me, says Sweezus.
I've stepped on two Bristlebird eggs accidentally, says Katherine. And you know how they're critically endangered.
Sheise! says Sweezus. Are they broken?
Of course they're broken, says Katherine. And the mother Bristlebird has attacked me, and I'm bleeding. So I wondered.....
Sit right there, says Sweezus. I'm coming. Wait a sec. Where are you?
I don't know, says Katherine. I can't see properly.....
Don't worry, says Sweezus. I'll find you.
Do be quiet, says Doctor Wallenius. Funnel webs are highly sensitive.
Sorry, says Sweezus, but Team Bristlebird's in trouble. Ray, where was that tree?
Ray calls up a map of the National Park on his smartphone.
Send me the coordinates, says Sweezus, crashing off through a stand of tea trees.
Thought his phone was out of battery, says Doctor Wallenius.
So did I, says Ray. It's a miracle.
There's no such thing! says Keanu.
Only natural phenomena, says Beau.
Well, that's what it is, then, says Unni. Now guys, keep quiet or Tom'll never catch this spider.
Tom advances towards the rotten log with protective gloves on.
A deathly silence falls, as the female funnel web spider recognises the biologist who made off with her sister.
She flies down and pecks Katherine's head.
Oh! Oh! cries Katherine, flailing wildly.
Mrs Bristlebird returns to her mate (Mr Bristlebird).
My dear, says Mr Bristlebird. What purpose did that serve?
Retribution, says Mrs Bristlebird.
After my perusal of the Book of Job, says Mr Bristlebird, I believe the best course of action is to suck up the punishment.
Oh, come ON! says Mrs Bristlebird.
No really, says Mr Bristlebird. Turns out bad things are just a test. Evil purposes should not be thwarted.
I'm quite sure you read that wrong, says Mrs Bristlebird. It was upside down remember. What happens to this Job person anyway?
He gets EVERYTHING back, says Mr Bristlebird. As soon as he stops COMPLAINING.
Mrs Bristlebird remains unconvinced. She is glad she pecked Katherine.
Katherine is feeling the top of her head. It is sticky, in two places.
She only has one dirty tissue. Better not use it.
Two lines of blood drip down her forehead and both sides of her nose.
She decides she had better call Sweezus .
Biddly-biddly-BEE! Biddly-biddly-BEE! ( his new ringtone).
Katherine, says Sweezus. We're just creeping up on the spider. What's up?
I've done something stupid, says Katherine. I don't like to tell you.
Try me, says Sweezus.
I've stepped on two Bristlebird eggs accidentally, says Katherine. And you know how they're critically endangered.
Sheise! says Sweezus. Are they broken?
Of course they're broken, says Katherine. And the mother Bristlebird has attacked me, and I'm bleeding. So I wondered.....
Sit right there, says Sweezus. I'm coming. Wait a sec. Where are you?
I don't know, says Katherine. I can't see properly.....
Don't worry, says Sweezus. I'll find you.
Do be quiet, says Doctor Wallenius. Funnel webs are highly sensitive.
Sorry, says Sweezus, but Team Bristlebird's in trouble. Ray, where was that tree?
Ray calls up a map of the National Park on his smartphone.
Send me the coordinates, says Sweezus, crashing off through a stand of tea trees.
Thought his phone was out of battery, says Doctor Wallenius.
So did I, says Ray. It's a miracle.
There's no such thing! says Keanu.
Only natural phenomena, says Beau.
Well, that's what it is, then, says Unni. Now guys, keep quiet or Tom'll never catch this spider.
Tom advances towards the rotten log with protective gloves on.
A deathly silence falls, as the female funnel web spider recognises the biologist who made off with her sister.
Saturday, October 10, 2015
Splits On The Path To Enlightenment
Tom Wallenius is taken aback.
You didn't tell me it was a BIBLE, says Tom.
Just don't wet it, says Ray.
He opens his bible at Job 39, verse 25. Or let's say he tries to. The pages are stuck fast together.
Can you get good DNA from bird shit? asks Unni.
Sure you can, answers Tom. But this'll be tricky.
He tries to prise open the pages. Rurp!
Stop! cries Ray. I value this bible too highly.....
Yes you do, says Katherine. I always thought so.
......for it to be further damaged, says Ray.
As to that, says Katherine, why don't we just go back to the tree from which you were shat on?
Do you know where it is? asks Tom.
Yes I do, says Katherine. I sat under it most of yesterday, reading my book, Love Sweat and Tears, by Zelie Bullen.
Are you reading that? says Tom. Me too. Isn't she amazing!
Amazing, says Katherine. Am I right in thinking you are easily distracted?
Why do you ask? says Tom.
We appear to have shifted our focus, says Katherine. What about the spider?
True, says Tom. And I only have limited time. We should split into two groups. Spider and Bristlebird.
I'll be in Bristlebird, says Katherine. This is fun . Just like school. Who else is in my group?
Not me, says Sweezus. I'll be in Spider.
Me too, says Keanu.
Me too, Spider, says Beau.
I'm pretty well obliged to be in Spider, says Tom.
I prefer Spider, says Ray. After what happened.
The desecration of Job, says Katherine. Dear, dear. Why do bad things happen to good people?
Ray ignores the barbed question.
That leaves Unni. She should really join Katherine. But she wants to ask questions of Tom.
You go with them, dear, says Katherine. I'll look for the Bristlebird. I'll step softly.
Thanks, Katherine, says Unni. Good luck.
Katherine makes her way back to the tree under which the fateful defecation happened.
Stepping softly. Crunch crunch. Feet crushing tiny acacia blossoms, and dry nut cases.
Mrs Bristlebird looks up from her ground nest, in alarm.
Mr Bristlebird whistles.
Katherine looks up.
Mrs Bristlebird sees Katherine's foot coming nearer. She panics and flies up to join Mr Bristlebird.
They watch sadly as Katherine steps on their hopes for the future.
Why do bad things happen to critically endangered species?
Never mind dear, says Mr Bristlebird. One must be resigned, as it said in that book that I read upside down yesterday.
Pooh to that! says Mrs Bristlebird. I hope she slips and breaks her ankle.
But Katherine doesn't.
You didn't tell me it was a BIBLE, says Tom.
Just don't wet it, says Ray.
He opens his bible at Job 39, verse 25. Or let's say he tries to. The pages are stuck fast together.
Can you get good DNA from bird shit? asks Unni.
Sure you can, answers Tom. But this'll be tricky.
He tries to prise open the pages. Rurp!
Stop! cries Ray. I value this bible too highly.....
Yes you do, says Katherine. I always thought so.
......for it to be further damaged, says Ray.
As to that, says Katherine, why don't we just go back to the tree from which you were shat on?
Do you know where it is? asks Tom.
Yes I do, says Katherine. I sat under it most of yesterday, reading my book, Love Sweat and Tears, by Zelie Bullen.
Are you reading that? says Tom. Me too. Isn't she amazing!
Amazing, says Katherine. Am I right in thinking you are easily distracted?
Why do you ask? says Tom.
We appear to have shifted our focus, says Katherine. What about the spider?
True, says Tom. And I only have limited time. We should split into two groups. Spider and Bristlebird.
I'll be in Bristlebird, says Katherine. This is fun . Just like school. Who else is in my group?
Not me, says Sweezus. I'll be in Spider.
Me too, says Keanu.
Me too, Spider, says Beau.
I'm pretty well obliged to be in Spider, says Tom.
I prefer Spider, says Ray. After what happened.
The desecration of Job, says Katherine. Dear, dear. Why do bad things happen to good people?
Ray ignores the barbed question.
That leaves Unni. She should really join Katherine. But she wants to ask questions of Tom.
You go with them, dear, says Katherine. I'll look for the Bristlebird. I'll step softly.
Thanks, Katherine, says Unni. Good luck.
Katherine makes her way back to the tree under which the fateful defecation happened.
Stepping softly. Crunch crunch. Feet crushing tiny acacia blossoms, and dry nut cases.
Mrs Bristlebird looks up from her ground nest, in alarm.
Mr Bristlebird whistles.
Katherine looks up.
Mrs Bristlebird sees Katherine's foot coming nearer. She panics and flies up to join Mr Bristlebird.
They watch sadly as Katherine steps on their hopes for the future.
Why do bad things happen to critically endangered species?
Never mind dear, says Mr Bristlebird. One must be resigned, as it said in that book that I read upside down yesterday.
Pooh to that! says Mrs Bristlebird. I hope she slips and breaks her ankle.
But Katherine doesn't.
Friday, October 9, 2015
Endangered Bird's Faecal DNA Lands On Your Bible
Rose has made six mugs of tea.
What would you kids like? asks Rose. Happy with water?
Mum sometimes lets us have Coke, says Beau.
Bet she doesn't, says Unni.
Rose gets two glasses of water.
Better for you, says Rose.
So, Doctor Wallenius, says Katherine, what's the verdict on your funnel web spider?
Too early to say, says Doctor Wallenius. There's a lot of testing involved. And do call me Tom.
Is it in that jar? asks Keanu.
No it isn't, it's back in the lab. This jar is for the next one.
Let's go! says Beau! Let's start looking!
Great to see you're so keen, says Doctor Wallenius. We're always glad of new helpers. Our research is part of a big biodiversity project.
Oh,Tom, says Unni. That's lovely. What else have you found?
Not me personally, says Tom, but Mark Wong found a red-fanged funnel web in Tallagonda State Forest recently.
Atrax sutherlandi, says Keanu.
That's a rare one, says Beau.
Good job! says Tom. You guys will be excellent helpers. Now, where was this spider you found?
He turns to Sweezus, who has been expecting this question.
I've got the GPS coordinates somewhere, says Sweezus, fiddling with his phone. Oh bummer!
What up? asks Tom.
Out of battery, says Sweezus, convincingly.
Tch! says Tom. Oh well. I've got the photo you sent me. Let's have a re-squiz.
(He brings up the photo)
Let's see, says Rose. Oh ha ha! That's heaps funny. Look at him, grinning like Jacky.
Ha ha, laughs Tom Wallenius. Not many people grin like that so close up to a funnel web spider.
I would! says Keanu.
(ever the smart arse)
Yeah, well, says Sweezus. I was prompted.
Let me see, says Tom Wallenius. Yes! This actually looks like the same hollow log where I found my specimen. We may not need the GPS coordinates.
That's lucky, says Rose. Well, I guess you'll want to be off then. Have you all got protective gloves?
Not surprisingly, only Tom has. But he has some spare pairs.
Okay then, says Rose. Oh wait, by the way, did you happen to see any Green and Gold Bell Frogs or Eastern Bristlebirds while you were camping?
No, we didn't, says Unni. Then she remembers.
Dad might have, says Unni.
I might what? says Ray, who has not been following, but thinking darkly of Woppa.
Yes, remember that bird that shat on your.... er... book? says Unni. Long tailed, grey brown, dappled underparts....
Wow! says Rose. So you spotted one.
And then it spotted him, says Katherine.
Dasyornis brachypterus, says Keanu.
If it was one, says Beau.
True, says Tom. We'd need more evidence. Have you still got the book, Ray?
Ray weighs up the pros and cons of saying he hasn't.
What would you kids like? asks Rose. Happy with water?
Mum sometimes lets us have Coke, says Beau.
Bet she doesn't, says Unni.
Rose gets two glasses of water.
Better for you, says Rose.
So, Doctor Wallenius, says Katherine, what's the verdict on your funnel web spider?
Too early to say, says Doctor Wallenius. There's a lot of testing involved. And do call me Tom.
Is it in that jar? asks Keanu.
No it isn't, it's back in the lab. This jar is for the next one.
Let's go! says Beau! Let's start looking!
Great to see you're so keen, says Doctor Wallenius. We're always glad of new helpers. Our research is part of a big biodiversity project.
Oh,Tom, says Unni. That's lovely. What else have you found?
Not me personally, says Tom, but Mark Wong found a red-fanged funnel web in Tallagonda State Forest recently.
Atrax sutherlandi, says Keanu.
That's a rare one, says Beau.
Good job! says Tom. You guys will be excellent helpers. Now, where was this spider you found?
He turns to Sweezus, who has been expecting this question.
I've got the GPS coordinates somewhere, says Sweezus, fiddling with his phone. Oh bummer!
What up? asks Tom.
Out of battery, says Sweezus, convincingly.
Tch! says Tom. Oh well. I've got the photo you sent me. Let's have a re-squiz.
(He brings up the photo)
Let's see, says Rose. Oh ha ha! That's heaps funny. Look at him, grinning like Jacky.
Ha ha, laughs Tom Wallenius. Not many people grin like that so close up to a funnel web spider.
I would! says Keanu.
(ever the smart arse)
Yeah, well, says Sweezus. I was prompted.
Let me see, says Tom Wallenius. Yes! This actually looks like the same hollow log where I found my specimen. We may not need the GPS coordinates.
That's lucky, says Rose. Well, I guess you'll want to be off then. Have you all got protective gloves?
Not surprisingly, only Tom has. But he has some spare pairs.
Okay then, says Rose. Oh wait, by the way, did you happen to see any Green and Gold Bell Frogs or Eastern Bristlebirds while you were camping?
No, we didn't, says Unni. Then she remembers.
Dad might have, says Unni.
I might what? says Ray, who has not been following, but thinking darkly of Woppa.
Yes, remember that bird that shat on your.... er... book? says Unni. Long tailed, grey brown, dappled underparts....
Wow! says Rose. So you spotted one.
And then it spotted him, says Katherine.
Dasyornis brachypterus, says Keanu.
If it was one, says Beau.
True, says Tom. We'd need more evidence. Have you still got the book, Ray?
Ray weighs up the pros and cons of saying he hasn't.
Thursday, October 8, 2015
Some Days Are Like Diamonds
Next morning, in a hollow log, in Booderee National Park, the female funnel web spider is expecting her sister.
On a branch of a flowering acacia, Mr Bristlebird trills melodiously
In her ovoid nest on the ground, slightly uncomfortable, sits Mrs Bristlebird.
Under her, two dull eggs simply exist.
In the Visitor Centre, Ranger Rose checks the pest control roster.
On the road, Doctor Wallenius approaches in an ANU vehicle, with a specimen jar.
At the Cave Beach car park, Ray's ute stands motionless.
Inside the cabin, Katherine Hume sleeps soundly.
It is now half past nine.
........
Ray has gone back to the camp site to look for (and certainly not to spy on) Unni, his daughter.
Doris comes out of her tent in her nightie.
Seen my daughter? asks Ray?
No. You heading off? says Doris.
Back to the Visitor Centre, says Ray. Got a meeting with Doctor Wallenius. We may have discovered a new species of funnel web spider.
Why didn't you say so last night? says Doris. My boys would have loved it. Boys! Wakey-wakey!
Keanu and Beau tumble out of the tent.
Funnel web spiders, says Doris. Ray's found a new species. He's going to meet up with an Expert.
Atrax or Hadronyche? asks Keanu.
Little smart arse.
No, a biologist, says Ray.
Can we go with them and meet the biologist? asks Beau. Can we mum, can we?
Sweezus has been lying on the grass feeling seedy. But his wits kick in now.
More people, less focus on him.
Yeah, says Sweezus, can they? It'll be educational.
Educational, says Doris. Very good. And it will give me some time to myself. All right, get dressed boys. Eat something quickly.
Ray has walked off in the direction of the tent of Daz and Woppa.
Daz is slumped on the grass in front of the tent looking seedy.
Woppa is sanding his surfboard.
Unni is sitting on a camp chair reading Woppa's notes on the snake genome, and limb enhancers.
Coming? asks Ray.
Okay, says Unni. See you, guys!
See you, babe, says Woppa.
Too easy.
......
Half past ten. The ute pulls up outside the Visitor Centre.
The ANU vehicle is already there.
Don't worry, whispers Unni to Sweezus. It doesn't matter if this all goes pear-shaped. We'll just do our best.
Sweezus jumps down from the back of the ute.
Tom Wallenius, says Doctor Wallenius, holding his hand out. You must be Gaius's man. Let's not waste any time. Where's the nest of your funnel web spider?
Oh yeah well .....it's.... says Sweezus.
I take it you have the GPS coordinates, says Doctor Wallenius.
Rose comes out of the Visitor Centre.
I think we should have a cup of tea first, says Katherine.
Yes, come in for a cuppa, says Rose. Hi kids! Come in and see our new diamond python.
Morelia spilota, says Keanu. Wicked!
Morelia spilota spilota, says Beau, to be accurate.
Little smart arse.
Rose plugs in the kettle.
On a branch of a flowering acacia, Mr Bristlebird trills melodiously
In her ovoid nest on the ground, slightly uncomfortable, sits Mrs Bristlebird.
Under her, two dull eggs simply exist.
In the Visitor Centre, Ranger Rose checks the pest control roster.
On the road, Doctor Wallenius approaches in an ANU vehicle, with a specimen jar.
At the Cave Beach car park, Ray's ute stands motionless.
Inside the cabin, Katherine Hume sleeps soundly.
It is now half past nine.
........
Ray has gone back to the camp site to look for (and certainly not to spy on) Unni, his daughter.
Doris comes out of her tent in her nightie.
Seen my daughter? asks Ray?
No. You heading off? says Doris.
Back to the Visitor Centre, says Ray. Got a meeting with Doctor Wallenius. We may have discovered a new species of funnel web spider.
Why didn't you say so last night? says Doris. My boys would have loved it. Boys! Wakey-wakey!
Keanu and Beau tumble out of the tent.
Funnel web spiders, says Doris. Ray's found a new species. He's going to meet up with an Expert.
Atrax or Hadronyche? asks Keanu.
Little smart arse.
No, a biologist, says Ray.
Can we go with them and meet the biologist? asks Beau. Can we mum, can we?
Sweezus has been lying on the grass feeling seedy. But his wits kick in now.
More people, less focus on him.
Yeah, says Sweezus, can they? It'll be educational.
Educational, says Doris. Very good. And it will give me some time to myself. All right, get dressed boys. Eat something quickly.
Ray has walked off in the direction of the tent of Daz and Woppa.
Daz is slumped on the grass in front of the tent looking seedy.
Woppa is sanding his surfboard.
Unni is sitting on a camp chair reading Woppa's notes on the snake genome, and limb enhancers.
Coming? asks Ray.
Okay, says Unni. See you, guys!
See you, babe, says Woppa.
Too easy.
......
Half past ten. The ute pulls up outside the Visitor Centre.
The ANU vehicle is already there.
Don't worry, whispers Unni to Sweezus. It doesn't matter if this all goes pear-shaped. We'll just do our best.
Sweezus jumps down from the back of the ute.
Tom Wallenius, says Doctor Wallenius, holding his hand out. You must be Gaius's man. Let's not waste any time. Where's the nest of your funnel web spider?
Oh yeah well .....it's.... says Sweezus.
I take it you have the GPS coordinates, says Doctor Wallenius.
Rose comes out of the Visitor Centre.
I think we should have a cup of tea first, says Katherine.
Yes, come in for a cuppa, says Rose. Hi kids! Come in and see our new diamond python.
Morelia spilota, says Keanu. Wicked!
Morelia spilota spilota, says Beau, to be accurate.
Little smart arse.
Rose plugs in the kettle.
Wednesday, October 7, 2015
Need To Think, And Wink
It's lights out in the camp site.
You can't make too much noise after that. The other campers are sleeping.
Ray starts the 300 metre trek back to the ute.
Wait for me, Ray, says Katherine. I'm sleeping in the cabin.
I thought you were already asleep in that camp chair, says Ray.
No such luck, says Katherine. Too much going on.
Too right, says Ray. Didn't much like the look of that Woppa.
He was all right, says Katherine. He turned out to be a geneticist. Unni certainly warmed to him.
My worst fears realised, says Ray.
It won't seem so bad in the morning, says Katherine.
The track crunches under their feet, like Rice Bubbles. The Milky Way crunches above in the heavens, like a Crunchie.
Back at Doris's tent...( the tent of Doris ), Keanu and Beau are in their sleeping bags, not sleeping.
They are examining the dead Jacky lizard with their mum's torch.
Doris has puttered off down to the showers. Free at last.
Where are Unni and Woppa?
Best not to ask.
Sweezus and Daz know not to go back to the tent though.
They open another can of Mother's.
It might keep them awake.
Big morning tomorrow, says Sweezus.
Yeah, what's happenin'? says Daz.
Doctor Wallenius, says Sweezus. To be honest, I'm thinking of not turning up.
You crook ? asks Daz. Must be pretty bad if the doc's comin' all the way out here.
No, mate , says Sweezus. I have to show him where I found the funnel web spider.
How hard can that be, says Daz. They're everywhere.
Not this one, says Sweezus, slurping his Mother's. Maybe Unni remembers.
Yeah, says Daz. She's pretty bright that one. Makin' a snake on a 3D printer.
This reminds Sweezus once again of the snake phallus genome, and yeah, it's not that he's jealous....
Stupid rhyme game? says Sweezus.
Okay, says Daz.
D: need to think
S: and wink
D: it's not kink
S: to ride the countryside
D: it's very wide
S: but don't take a plane
D: TAKE A TRAIN
You guys! says Doris, who has just returned from the showers in a nightie. She goes into the tent.
Put that torch out! Get rid of that lizard NOW, boys!
Sweezus and Daz stretch out on the grass, eyes wide open, focused on the Crunchie.
The Crunchie revolves in the heavens, spitting like foam.
You can't make too much noise after that. The other campers are sleeping.
Ray starts the 300 metre trek back to the ute.
Wait for me, Ray, says Katherine. I'm sleeping in the cabin.
I thought you were already asleep in that camp chair, says Ray.
No such luck, says Katherine. Too much going on.
Too right, says Ray. Didn't much like the look of that Woppa.
He was all right, says Katherine. He turned out to be a geneticist. Unni certainly warmed to him.
My worst fears realised, says Ray.
It won't seem so bad in the morning, says Katherine.
The track crunches under their feet, like Rice Bubbles. The Milky Way crunches above in the heavens, like a Crunchie.
Back at Doris's tent...( the tent of Doris ), Keanu and Beau are in their sleeping bags, not sleeping.
They are examining the dead Jacky lizard with their mum's torch.
Doris has puttered off down to the showers. Free at last.
Where are Unni and Woppa?
Best not to ask.
Sweezus and Daz know not to go back to the tent though.
They open another can of Mother's.
It might keep them awake.
Big morning tomorrow, says Sweezus.
Yeah, what's happenin'? says Daz.
Doctor Wallenius, says Sweezus. To be honest, I'm thinking of not turning up.
You crook ? asks Daz. Must be pretty bad if the doc's comin' all the way out here.
No, mate , says Sweezus. I have to show him where I found the funnel web spider.
How hard can that be, says Daz. They're everywhere.
Not this one, says Sweezus, slurping his Mother's. Maybe Unni remembers.
Yeah, says Daz. She's pretty bright that one. Makin' a snake on a 3D printer.
This reminds Sweezus once again of the snake phallus genome, and yeah, it's not that he's jealous....
Stupid rhyme game? says Sweezus.
Okay, says Daz.
D: need to think
S: and wink
D: it's not kink
S: to ride the countryside
D: it's very wide
S: but don't take a plane
D: TAKE A TRAIN
You guys! says Doris, who has just returned from the showers in a nightie. She goes into the tent.
Put that torch out! Get rid of that lizard NOW, boys!
Sweezus and Daz stretch out on the grass, eyes wide open, focused on the Crunchie.
The Crunchie revolves in the heavens, spitting like foam.
Tuesday, October 6, 2015
Genomes And Other Necessities Of Invention
Can we just stop for a moment and find out the name of Doris's kids?
Then I won't have to keep writing 'Doris's's's' ......
Doris!
What is it? says Doris. I'm busy peeling an orange, without a knife mind you, it's hard......
Doris what are the names of your children?
You're kidding! says Doris. Just make something up.
.........
Doris is scolding her kids, and peeling oranges with her fingers.
Keanu! Beau! Get inside that tent and put on your jackets. You're SHIVERING!
Keanu and Beau disappear into the tent to look for their jackets.
Unni appears, followed by Sweezus, Daz and Woppa.
Daz and Woppa! says Doris.
You know these guys? says Unni.
Oh yes they're regulars, says Doris.
Yo, Doris, says Woppa.
Where's that red box? asks Unni.
Here, says Katherine. Just let me take out my book first.
She opens the red box, and extracts her book, Love Sweat and Tears, by Zelie Bullen.
Epic book, says Daz, spotting the title.
Oh yes, epic, says Katherine.
This one's better, says Ray, patting his bible. Plenty to think about. Horses, leviathans, wicked snake.
Unni is becoming impatient. She takes olive python (the simulacrum) out of the red box to show it to Woppa.
Now to see if he's a snake man.
A Pilbara olive python, says Woppa. That would've been tricky.
It was, says Unni. So you really are a snake man.
Yup, says Woppa. In my real life, I'm a geneticist currently working on snake genes.
My apologies, says Unni. I thought you were a wanker.
He he, laughs Daz.
Tell me about your research, says Unni.
Well, says Woppa, it's technical.
Try me, says Unni.
I've been comparing the expression of phallus genes from organism to organism, says Woppa. Turns out many limb control elements or limb enhancers found in limbed animals are still present in snake genomes.
That's amazing, says Unni.
To her maybe, but Sweezus and Daz are bored shitless.
They start playing a stupid rhyming game they used to play when they were younger.
S: for heaven sake
D: am late
S: for my date
D: on this night
S: of my flight
D: hope they fly the plane right
S: so I can get my
D: FLIGHT !
They collapse into laughter, but they are the only two people who think this is funny.
Katherine is snoozing. Ray is gazing at the Milky Way. Doris is continually peeling.
Keanu and Beau emerge from the tent for their orange.
Wow! says Keanu. A Pilbara olive python. Is it a real one?
Wow! says Beau. Liasis olivaceus barroni.
Smart kids you got, Doris, says Woppa.
Then I won't have to keep writing 'Doris's's's' ......
Doris!
What is it? says Doris. I'm busy peeling an orange, without a knife mind you, it's hard......
Doris what are the names of your children?
You're kidding! says Doris. Just make something up.
.........
Doris is scolding her kids, and peeling oranges with her fingers.
Keanu! Beau! Get inside that tent and put on your jackets. You're SHIVERING!
Keanu and Beau disappear into the tent to look for their jackets.
Unni appears, followed by Sweezus, Daz and Woppa.
Daz and Woppa! says Doris.
You know these guys? says Unni.
Oh yes they're regulars, says Doris.
Yo, Doris, says Woppa.
Where's that red box? asks Unni.
Here, says Katherine. Just let me take out my book first.
She opens the red box, and extracts her book, Love Sweat and Tears, by Zelie Bullen.
Epic book, says Daz, spotting the title.
Oh yes, epic, says Katherine.
This one's better, says Ray, patting his bible. Plenty to think about. Horses, leviathans, wicked snake.
Unni is becoming impatient. She takes olive python (the simulacrum) out of the red box to show it to Woppa.
Now to see if he's a snake man.
A Pilbara olive python, says Woppa. That would've been tricky.
It was, says Unni. So you really are a snake man.
Yup, says Woppa. In my real life, I'm a geneticist currently working on snake genes.
My apologies, says Unni. I thought you were a wanker.
He he, laughs Daz.
Tell me about your research, says Unni.
Well, says Woppa, it's technical.
Try me, says Unni.
I've been comparing the expression of phallus genes from organism to organism, says Woppa. Turns out many limb control elements or limb enhancers found in limbed animals are still present in snake genomes.
That's amazing, says Unni.
To her maybe, but Sweezus and Daz are bored shitless.
They start playing a stupid rhyming game they used to play when they were younger.
S: for heaven sake
D: am late
S: for my date
D: on this night
S: of my flight
D: hope they fly the plane right
S: so I can get my
D: FLIGHT !
They collapse into laughter, but they are the only two people who think this is funny.
Katherine is snoozing. Ray is gazing at the Milky Way. Doris is continually peeling.
Keanu and Beau emerge from the tent for their orange.
Wow! says Keanu. A Pilbara olive python. Is it a real one?
Wow! says Beau. Liasis olivaceus barroni.
Smart kids you got, Doris, says Woppa.
Monday, October 5, 2015
My Python Lives In A Red Box
The torch flicks from xanthorrhea to hakea, and a dense stand of tea trees (L.laevigatum).
No one in there.
Unni keeps going, towards the cold showers.
There's a queue for the showers, and Doris's kids are next in line to go in.
Hi kids, says Unni. Your mum was worried. I'll go back and tell her you're okay.
The kids look at Unni like: duuh, whatever.
Well if they don't care, thinks Unni, I'll keep looking for Sweezus.
She turns down the track to Cave Beach.
The moon shines on the water. The water shines back at the moon.
The sand is silky, until ach! she steps on a lizard.
It's a dead one, so that is okay.
She picks it up and heads back to the camp site.
Sweezus must have hooked up with someone. She walks past groups of campers, stealing looks at their faces.
Unni! says Sweezus loudly from where he is sitting outside Daz and Woppa's blue tent, scoffing a big lamb chop, with Daz and Woppa, who are scoffing big lamb chops too.
She goes over.
So you didn't get eaten by a shark then, says Unni.
You know me, says Sweezus.
I do, says Unni, but I don't know these guys.
This is Daz and Woppa, says Sweezus. Me, Daz and Woppa go way back. We used to catch tadpoles together.
Yeah, back in the day, says Daz, nodding. And Woppa's a snake man.
Woppa makes a slightly lewd gesture.
Not a good move by Woppa.
No kidding, says Unni. I'm a snake person myself, coincidentally.
Woppa looks taken aback. So does Daz. This is not usually how 'snake man' unfolds with the women.
Yeah, says Unni. You guys want to come over and see my python? I keep it in a red box, But I'll open it if you're really interested.
Sweezus is trying to hold a big laugh in, by pressing his neck muscles.
Which never works.
And explains why Sweezus is laughing.
Look at this, says Unni. I stepped on it earlier.
She whips out the dead lizard. It has a big yellow mouth and a well defined crest down its spine.
That's a Jacky lizard, says Woppa.
Nice try, says Daz.
No, it is, says Woppa.
Woppa's right. It is a Jacky.
Come on, says Unni. The kids'll have finished their showers.
Kids! squeaks Daz. Is she your woman?
What kids? says Sweezus.
Ha ha, laughs Woppa. He's forgotten his kids!
Up! Python! Now! says Unni.
The three lamb chop scoffers get up and follow Unni back to where Doris is scolding her kids for taking so long in the showers.
No one in there.
Unni keeps going, towards the cold showers.
There's a queue for the showers, and Doris's kids are next in line to go in.
Hi kids, says Unni. Your mum was worried. I'll go back and tell her you're okay.
The kids look at Unni like: duuh, whatever.
Well if they don't care, thinks Unni, I'll keep looking for Sweezus.
She turns down the track to Cave Beach.
The moon shines on the water. The water shines back at the moon.
The sand is silky, until ach! she steps on a lizard.
It's a dead one, so that is okay.
She picks it up and heads back to the camp site.
Sweezus must have hooked up with someone. She walks past groups of campers, stealing looks at their faces.
Unni! says Sweezus loudly from where he is sitting outside Daz and Woppa's blue tent, scoffing a big lamb chop, with Daz and Woppa, who are scoffing big lamb chops too.
She goes over.
So you didn't get eaten by a shark then, says Unni.
You know me, says Sweezus.
I do, says Unni, but I don't know these guys.
This is Daz and Woppa, says Sweezus. Me, Daz and Woppa go way back. We used to catch tadpoles together.
Yeah, back in the day, says Daz, nodding. And Woppa's a snake man.
Woppa makes a slightly lewd gesture.
Not a good move by Woppa.
No kidding, says Unni. I'm a snake person myself, coincidentally.
Woppa looks taken aback. So does Daz. This is not usually how 'snake man' unfolds with the women.
Yeah, says Unni. You guys want to come over and see my python? I keep it in a red box, But I'll open it if you're really interested.
Sweezus is trying to hold a big laugh in, by pressing his neck muscles.
Which never works.
And explains why Sweezus is laughing.
Look at this, says Unni. I stepped on it earlier.
She whips out the dead lizard. It has a big yellow mouth and a well defined crest down its spine.
That's a Jacky lizard, says Woppa.
Nice try, says Daz.
No, it is, says Woppa.
Woppa's right. It is a Jacky.
Come on, says Unni. The kids'll have finished their showers.
Kids! squeaks Daz. Is she your woman?
What kids? says Sweezus.
Ha ha, laughs Woppa. He's forgotten his kids!
Up! Python! Now! says Unni.
The three lamb chop scoffers get up and follow Unni back to where Doris is scolding her kids for taking so long in the showers.
Sunday, October 4, 2015
Uncertainty And The Subliminal
Cave Beach. There will be a cave.
Let's say there is, and Sweezus has entered.
His good mood has turned sour.
He sits in the cave and reviews his situation.
Here he is at a dope surfing beach with no surfboard, that's fucked for a start.....and no dudes he knows here.....and he's starving....what's up with Katherine and her freakin biocheese....yeah...... and Doctor Wallenius fronting up tomorrow and he can't even remember where he found that lame-ass spider.
Yes, Sweezus is having a downer.
He hears sounds from deep within the cave. He stiffens, and stops his endo-whinge-rant.
'Blown out'. One of the sounds forms itself into a verb (or past participle).
'My bad'. Another sound forms into an adjective, used as noun.
Two guys appear to be talking.
That is they appear, and are talking.
Now Sweezus realises he knows them.
Daz and Woppa!
Daz and Woppa are not surprised to see Sweezus. Dudes never are.
Mate, says Daz. You here camping?
Yeah, says Sweezus. But it's kind of random.
No board? says Woppa. I'd lend you mine but it's friggin delammed.
You can use mine mate, says Daz. We're heading back to the campsite to get dinner.
Sweezus is torn. Dinner or surfing. He consults his internals.
........
Back at the campsite, Doris is serving up sausages to her kids and to Katherine, Ray and Unni.
Her kids have eaten numerous sausages smothered in sauce.
Go to the showers, kids, says Doris, and then we'll divide up the oranges.
The kids head off to the showers, with their towels and their peejays.
Good kids, says Ray. They do what you tell them.
Not always, says Doris.
.......
I'm worried about Sweezus, says Unni. He hasn't come back yet.
Your boyfriend? asks Doris.
Not exactly, says Unni.
Was he surfing? asks Doris. There were sharks spotted in Jervis Bay early this morning.
Eek. And now darkness is falling.
Only Ray is not worried.
As if, says Ray, patting his bible, of which two pages (of Job 39) are now stuck together.
I wonder where those kids are, says Doris. They're taking their time.
I'll go and find them, says Unni.
Take a torch, says Doris, taking a torch from a hamper.
The torchlight flickers across the tents and the low bushes, as the crunch of Unni's footsteps fades to somewhere below the subliminal.......
Let's say there is, and Sweezus has entered.
His good mood has turned sour.
He sits in the cave and reviews his situation.
Here he is at a dope surfing beach with no surfboard, that's fucked for a start.....and no dudes he knows here.....and he's starving....what's up with Katherine and her freakin biocheese....yeah...... and Doctor Wallenius fronting up tomorrow and he can't even remember where he found that lame-ass spider.
Yes, Sweezus is having a downer.
He hears sounds from deep within the cave. He stiffens, and stops his endo-whinge-rant.
'Blown out'. One of the sounds forms itself into a verb (or past participle).
'My bad'. Another sound forms into an adjective, used as noun.
Two guys appear to be talking.
That is they appear, and are talking.
Now Sweezus realises he knows them.
Daz and Woppa!
Daz and Woppa are not surprised to see Sweezus. Dudes never are.
Mate, says Daz. You here camping?
Yeah, says Sweezus. But it's kind of random.
No board? says Woppa. I'd lend you mine but it's friggin delammed.
You can use mine mate, says Daz. We're heading back to the campsite to get dinner.
Sweezus is torn. Dinner or surfing. He consults his internals.
........
Back at the campsite, Doris is serving up sausages to her kids and to Katherine, Ray and Unni.
Her kids have eaten numerous sausages smothered in sauce.
Go to the showers, kids, says Doris, and then we'll divide up the oranges.
The kids head off to the showers, with their towels and their peejays.
Good kids, says Ray. They do what you tell them.
Not always, says Doris.
.......
I'm worried about Sweezus, says Unni. He hasn't come back yet.
Your boyfriend? asks Doris.
Not exactly, says Unni.
Was he surfing? asks Doris. There were sharks spotted in Jervis Bay early this morning.
Eek. And now darkness is falling.
Only Ray is not worried.
As if, says Ray, patting his bible, of which two pages (of Job 39) are now stuck together.
I wonder where those kids are, says Doris. They're taking their time.
I'll go and find them, says Unni.
Take a torch, says Doris, taking a torch from a hamper.
The torchlight flickers across the tents and the low bushes, as the crunch of Unni's footsteps fades to somewhere below the subliminal.......
Saturday, October 3, 2015
Her Rapport With Animals
Ray's ute pulls up in the car park.
Ray, Katherine, Unni and Sweezus hop out.
Look at that! says Unni. Cave Beach Campsite 300 metres. No cars past this point.
We'll have to carry our stuff in, says Sweezus. That's cool. Except.....
We don't have any stuff, says Unni. Looks like we sleep in the carpark, or sleep on the grass.
I don't want to sleep on the grass, says Katherine. There could be bandicoots and possums.
Come ON, says Sweezus, striding off down the path.
I'll bring the oranges, says Ray.
Grab my book will you, says Katherine. It's in the red box, in the back. With the python.
The python that Unni made with her 3D printer,
Not a real python, but very realistic.
Be assured though, no misunderstandings will occur with the python.
Ray grabs the oranges and the box with the book and the python, and follows Katherine and Unni down the track to the campsite.
The campsite is dotted with little blue tents. A few campers, the ones with young children, are cooking early sausages.
No surfboards in sight.
And no Sweezus.
I bet he's down at the beach already, says Unni. I'll go find him.
Katherine sits down on the grass. She inspects it for droppings. Can't see any. Lucky.
Ray sits down beside her. Plonks the red box down. Selects the best orange.
Katherine takes out her book, Love, Sweat and Tears. A woman and a horse on the cover.
You surprise me, says Ray. I wouldn't have picked you to read that.
Nor would I, says Katherine. I acquired it through a series of accidents. But I'm enjoying it.
A camper who has been turning sausages nearby and eyeing the newcomers smiles widely at Katherine.
She has read that book too. It's lovely. About a trick rider and animal trainer who works in films. Zelie Bullen. She was on Australian Story.
Hello, says the camper. I'm Doris. I just came over because I saw what you were reading. How are you liking it?
It's a revelation, says Katherine.
Ray thinks back to earlier, and Job 39. So what constitutes a revelation, for Katherine? He must remember to ask her.
Oh YES, gushes Doris. You can just feel Zelie's wonderful rapport with animals in every sentence.
You certainly can, agrees Katherine. Are those vegetarian sausages?
Doris looks perplexed for a moment.
Oh no, ha ha, no, they're pork sausages, the kids's favourite. Better get back to them. Look, I've cooked far too many, would you like some? Of course, that is unless you're both vegetarian....?
No, no, we're not vegetarian, says Ray. Thanks for the offer. We hadn't planned to stay overnight, but as scientists.....
Shut up Ray, says Katherine. Thank you Doris. May we offer you some of our oranges?
Sure, says Doris, skipping back to the barbecue to check on her sausages. When the kids get back from surfing, come over and we'll all eat together.
This is just one example of the great camaraderie of people who like reading horse books.
There may yet be others.
Friday, October 2, 2015
The Endangered Remains Unidentified Thanks To Horses
If Doctor Wallenius is coming tomorrow, says Unni, we'll have to camp here.
Cool, says Sweezus. Can we camp near a beach?
We have three campsites in Booderee, says Rose. One is at Cave Beach. It's popular with the surfers. But it's school holidays, so we're full.
No worries, says Sweezus. We can sleep in the ute.
Well, since it's for science, says Rose. And for Doctor Wallenius.....
Awesome, says Sweezus. Do you have a spare surfboard?
No, says Rose. And I'm late for pest management. I'll see you tomorrow.
We'll be going now, says Merve. It's a three hour drive back to Blaxland.
Mark comes across with the children, who all look grumpy.
What's the matter? asks Unni.
We can't have an ice cream, says Mo.
It's her fault, says Faith. She said .....
Don't say it! says Joybells.
Quite right, says their mother. I don't want to hear that rude word ever again.
But WE didn't say it, says Faith.
Did you give Mo that rubber spider? asks Merve.
Yes I did, says Unni. She can keep it.
She doesn't want it, says Merve. Give it back, Mo.
Mo pulls the rubber spider out from under her shorts.
The nice day is unravelling.
As for you, says Merve, looking directly at Sweezus.
What? says Sweezus.
As for you, I don't know what we were thinking, letting you near our children, says Merve.
Hey! He's okay with children, says Unni.
Not in our book, says Mark.
The family heads back to their Jeep and the spiderless, my-little-poniless journey to Blaxland.
Mo looks back at Sweezus, silently mouthing what looks like an f and a u.
Let's go back and tell dad and Katherine we're staying, says Unni.
They go back to the tree.
Staying! says Ray. What about sleeping arrangements?
It'll be fun, Ray, says Katherine. You three can sleep in the back of the ute and I'll sleep in the cabin.
Sweet, says Sweezus. And we'll camp at Cave Beach. Hang on, what about food?
Oranges, says Ray. I knew you'd be grateful.
There are one or two leftover sandwiches, says Katherine. That wasn't proper cheese you know. It was dairy free bio-cheese.
Sweezus is undaunted.
There'll be other dudes at the campsite, with proper food, and surfboards. Let's get going.
Dad, what's your bible doing open? asks Unni.
Drying, says Ray. A bird shat on it.
What kind of bird? asks Unni.
Grey-brownish, with a long tail, says Ray.
Underparts? asks Unni.
Dappled, says Ray. Why are you asking?
Did it have bristles around its beak? asks Unni, beginning to feel a little excited.
Couldn't say, says Ray. Did you notice, Katherine?
I was reading, says Katherine.
Dad's Bible? says Unni.
Don't look so surprised, says Katherine. It's very nice on the subject of horses.
Cool, says Sweezus. Can we camp near a beach?
We have three campsites in Booderee, says Rose. One is at Cave Beach. It's popular with the surfers. But it's school holidays, so we're full.
No worries, says Sweezus. We can sleep in the ute.
Well, since it's for science, says Rose. And for Doctor Wallenius.....
Awesome, says Sweezus. Do you have a spare surfboard?
No, says Rose. And I'm late for pest management. I'll see you tomorrow.
We'll be going now, says Merve. It's a three hour drive back to Blaxland.
Mark comes across with the children, who all look grumpy.
What's the matter? asks Unni.
We can't have an ice cream, says Mo.
It's her fault, says Faith. She said .....
Don't say it! says Joybells.
Quite right, says their mother. I don't want to hear that rude word ever again.
But WE didn't say it, says Faith.
Did you give Mo that rubber spider? asks Merve.
Yes I did, says Unni. She can keep it.
She doesn't want it, says Merve. Give it back, Mo.
Mo pulls the rubber spider out from under her shorts.
The nice day is unravelling.
As for you, says Merve, looking directly at Sweezus.
What? says Sweezus.
As for you, I don't know what we were thinking, letting you near our children, says Merve.
Hey! He's okay with children, says Unni.
Not in our book, says Mark.
The family heads back to their Jeep and the spiderless, my-little-poniless journey to Blaxland.
Mo looks back at Sweezus, silently mouthing what looks like an f and a u.
Let's go back and tell dad and Katherine we're staying, says Unni.
They go back to the tree.
Staying! says Ray. What about sleeping arrangements?
It'll be fun, Ray, says Katherine. You three can sleep in the back of the ute and I'll sleep in the cabin.
Sweet, says Sweezus. And we'll camp at Cave Beach. Hang on, what about food?
Oranges, says Ray. I knew you'd be grateful.
There are one or two leftover sandwiches, says Katherine. That wasn't proper cheese you know. It was dairy free bio-cheese.
Sweezus is undaunted.
There'll be other dudes at the campsite, with proper food, and surfboards. Let's get going.
Dad, what's your bible doing open? asks Unni.
Drying, says Ray. A bird shat on it.
What kind of bird? asks Unni.
Grey-brownish, with a long tail, says Ray.
Underparts? asks Unni.
Dappled, says Ray. Why are you asking?
Did it have bristles around its beak? asks Unni, beginning to feel a little excited.
Couldn't say, says Ray. Did you notice, Katherine?
I was reading, says Katherine.
Dad's Bible? says Unni.
Don't look so surprised, says Katherine. It's very nice on the subject of horses.
Thursday, October 1, 2015
The Failings Of Superposition
Ray has not caught Katherine's meaning.
He thinks she apologised because the horse bible story is unexpectedly charming.
(Which it is: Horses hear trumpets; horses cry Aha! Who among us does not find that charming?)
But Katherine was being ironical re the bird poo which dropped on Ray's bible. And apologising, as it was she who inadvertently exposed it to the seedy brown faeces.
Job 39, if I'm not mistaken, says Ray, leaning forward.
Shit, Katherine! What is that substance?
Bird dirt, says Katherine. Have you got any Wet Ones?
Me? says Ray. I never have wet ones.......
Tissues? says Katherine. I've only got one I wiped my nose with.
Just wipe the damn stuff OFF, Katherine, says Ray. Then we'll dry it.
Katherine wipes her used tissue across Job 39.
The bulk of the poo comes off on the tissue leaving a sticky brown smear across verse 25.
The Bristlebird (critically endangered) has remained on the branch above Katherine.
He had been reading Job 39 upside down, and had not quite finished his poo.
Plink, a small brown seedy drop falls on Ray's forehead.
Ray looks up, spots the Bristlebird, picks up a stone.
Of course he doesn't know it's a Bristlebird, or he wouldn't.
The Bristlebird flies off, having learned something useful.
Not the bit about horses, but the rest, in which GOD sets out his full job description, thereby explaining (to the suffering Job) why HE cannot always be everywhere.
........
Meanwhile, at the Visitor Centre, Sweezus calls Doctor Wallenius.
Sends him the photo of himself with funnel web spider.
Dr Wallenius is excited, and says he'll be back in Booderee tomorrow.
.....
The Bristlebird flies down to his mate, who is sitting on two dull eggs in her ovoid dome with a side entrance.
Hello dear, says Mr Bristlebird. I've just read something interesting.
Was it science? asks Mrs Bristlebird.
Sort of, says Mr Bristlbird. It was about not being everywhere at once.
Like quantum physics? says Mrs Bristlebird.
No, quantum physics IS being everywhere at once, says Mr Bristlebird. Unless you're not moving.
Then I've got it all wrong, says Mrs Bristlebird. What about the Big Question?
No joy there, says Mr Bristlebird. Looks like we'll never find out why we've got rictal bristles.
He thinks she apologised because the horse bible story is unexpectedly charming.
(Which it is: Horses hear trumpets; horses cry Aha! Who among us does not find that charming?)
But Katherine was being ironical re the bird poo which dropped on Ray's bible. And apologising, as it was she who inadvertently exposed it to the seedy brown faeces.
Job 39, if I'm not mistaken, says Ray, leaning forward.
Shit, Katherine! What is that substance?
Bird dirt, says Katherine. Have you got any Wet Ones?
Me? says Ray. I never have wet ones.......
Tissues? says Katherine. I've only got one I wiped my nose with.
Just wipe the damn stuff OFF, Katherine, says Ray. Then we'll dry it.
Katherine wipes her used tissue across Job 39.
The bulk of the poo comes off on the tissue leaving a sticky brown smear across verse 25.
The Bristlebird (critically endangered) has remained on the branch above Katherine.
He had been reading Job 39 upside down, and had not quite finished his poo.
Plink, a small brown seedy drop falls on Ray's forehead.
Ray looks up, spots the Bristlebird, picks up a stone.
Of course he doesn't know it's a Bristlebird, or he wouldn't.
The Bristlebird flies off, having learned something useful.
Not the bit about horses, but the rest, in which GOD sets out his full job description, thereby explaining (to the suffering Job) why HE cannot always be everywhere.
........
Meanwhile, at the Visitor Centre, Sweezus calls Doctor Wallenius.
Sends him the photo of himself with funnel web spider.
Dr Wallenius is excited, and says he'll be back in Booderee tomorrow.
.....
The Bristlebird flies down to his mate, who is sitting on two dull eggs in her ovoid dome with a side entrance.
Hello dear, says Mr Bristlebird. I've just read something interesting.
Was it science? asks Mrs Bristlebird.
Sort of, says Mr Bristlbird. It was about not being everywhere at once.
Like quantum physics? says Mrs Bristlebird.
No, quantum physics IS being everywhere at once, says Mr Bristlebird. Unless you're not moving.
Then I've got it all wrong, says Mrs Bristlebird. What about the Big Question?
No joy there, says Mr Bristlebird. Looks like we'll never find out why we've got rictal bristles.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
