Maggots Rule

Nobody cares about a foetus, other than those who have a religion that tells them to care.

And, people are shamed into caring by the religious zealots, who need everyone to believe so they can feel better about their thousand year old mythical ideas. Meanwhile the rest of us miss out on the amazing technologies of stem-cell research, which could be saving our lives and curing diseases. Here's a thought, those with god can forgo any medical break troughs made from foetal stem-cell research, if that makes them feel closer to the divine. I myself, have no qualms about using foetal tissue for medical research if it is going to save my life one day. Or many people’s lives.

And here's a prediction, if a Christian's only hope of living is from foetal stem-cell technology, I guarantee they would take it. They may not tell anyone, but they would take it.

Subject: breathy Tuesday

Hey Christian,

How are you doing?

It's one of those hospital days for me – blood test, line dressing, appointment with Andrew Spencer, AND then a dreaded lung function test.

Have you ever had a lung function test Christian?

It makes one, shall we say, "aware" of one's pulmonary shortcomings.

I've had two this year - one when I had whooping cough, and interchanged blowing as hard as I could with vomiting onto the floor, and one when my haemoglobin was 59 – a record low, before I went in for my transplant – and it was all I could do to get up the stairs without passing out, let alone blowing with all my might.

Two most unpleasant experiences...

Third time lucky perhaps?

Anyways, I hope you have a lovely day Christian.

xxxx Tom

Subject: breathy Tuesday

Miss

I had a lung function test last year (ish) and I came in as right in the middle of normal. So, how about that. But yes, I remember the blowing and the blowing and the blowing and the blowing... it would have been no fun if you'd had any sort of restriction.

Good luck with yours

Christian

Subject: 11.11

(M&L)

Hello

(Christian)

SMS. 17.18. Stay on the bus, forget about us, put the blame on meeeeee…– Christian

SMS. 17.18. Bored r u? Funnily enuf I was about 2 txt u! Do u want Billie beg of Jan? No escor if you can’t – Rachel

SMS. 17.18. Not bored, off home – Christian

SMS. 17.19. Escor should read drama – Rachel

SMS. 17.23. Don’t understand – Christian

SMS. 17.23. Don’t worry – Rachel

Subject: maggots rule

That would be Mr Fletcher, I believe? Ne'er was a more maggoty word said.

Hey guess what? I got fired from me namby-pamby not quite sure what I'm doing, not very good at it British private school job!!!!

The very one!

It's like this, she the boss, asks me in at 3 for a talk about timetabling. After waiting an extra 20 minutes (they learn these things at leadership conferences in Manchester) she asks me in and financial boss and former principal is there – the one that sacked 6 teachers before Xmas LAST year and had to be removed as it cost them 6 legal cases. He says "there's no nice way to do this"... (ALARM BELLS BERYLL!!) and plonks a signed and dated we are terminating your contract pursuant to contract paragraph.... Thank god they say nothing about bad teaching, skiving or me not having much of an idea – no no, it's nothing to do with you, it's a timetabling issue, no no we'll write you a reference...etc. The deal? They have hired a replacement for a colleague who is going on (unpaid) maternity leave. He's from England and presumably wants a fulltime job. I reckon they planned it this way ages ago, when they first advertised for him, but I was too naive to think things through, i.e. why they weren't hassling me to quit my other school and take them up fulltime as they had suggested in Summer. So they now have a fulltime geog teacher and my 9 hours job is swallowed up into his. Bye bye!

They were real businesslike but clearly didn't feel that good, and had little idea who I was actually – as conveyed by their small talk as the ashes were being swept off our various laps. I told her that she should have told people how challenging this place was, as they take everyone (but that those challenging kids none the lee still deserve a top education) and that staff won't believe them that management won't repeat wrongs of the past if they keep doing this. Of course management will sack someone with a contract just before the contract will come into effect – I was so stupid! I figured I've got a contract, they are just hiring someone, they must be in better financial straights.... Silly silly girl!

So, my plottings and plannings are 6 months brought forward and now involve "I had 6 months experience in the British system once" to getting non-teaching (or non-school) plots under way sooner than I thought. It is a sign from the gods me reckons. I mean I was average to crap with good bits in between, and working 2 places wasn't that great, but I was gunno go to them and escape the school. But thank god I have said nothing to my bosses at the German school and if it gets dirty there well, my contract says 26 hours and pay up even if they don't have them hours. But I'm there with 16 hours and permission to work elsewhere for the next 2 years, so not all is lost. But who would have thunk it.

Bern's home,

gotta go! (and tell him)

Josh

Subject: maggots rule

Are you any good at this teaching caper? I mean, you gotta ask.

I’ve had five bongs. He, he! With the lovely Nicholas. Tom says he’s not at all sure if he likes Nicholas’ influence over me. They haven’t met yet. Tom hasn’t been getting out much, as you may well understand.

Feeling dizzy. Can’t keep writing, have to hang onto the edge of the desk, for balance.

Big smile.

It is pouring with rain here. But, it’s nice, it’s warm. Hello to summer, with a tropical down pour, or three.

Been watching lots of television. Well, lots for me. Glassy-eyed.

Do you know what happens to people when they die in their car in their garage and aren’t found for two months? A television show tried it with a dead pig. They killed the pig, put it in a car in a garage and left it all locked up for two months. It was harrowing to watch, as they pulled those doors open of that Corvette.

So what you’re saying is that they just replaced you with a full timer and you reckon they knew they were going to do that when they hired you? Is that what you’re saying Germane? Filthy Germans!

Oh I do laugh at the predicament you may have got yourself into, had you shot off your big mouth at your old school. He, he. Eye-balling the headmaster. Screaming? Oh what fun? What a hoot that would have been!

But, but? No? What? You took me seriously? Me? No. It’s just my crazy Aussie sense of humour. He, he. Come awn Aussie. Aren’t I funny?

Maggots covered the garage floor, under the car, when the poor granny was finally found.

So you get a new job. Every time you are knocked down, you are taught to jump twice as high the next time, so if you fall again, you won’t fall as far. So many people go onto bigger and better things, after setbacks like that. They prosper. Although, you were only there for two seconds, really. So the whole thing should prove to be effect neutral. Just a blip. Probably not meant to be. Blah, blah. Silver linings. Tooth fairies. They won‘t remember you in six months. They are all maggots, when all is said and done.

My first thought was that they got you for drug possession. You know, pot. Poof. Gone!

Still, better than melting into your car’s interior. Literally.

It’s pouring with rain. I’m smashed off my brain. The roof is leaking. The down pipe is fucked. The guttering needs replacing. Life’s a cunt, miss. It’s an endurance test. Last man standing, and all that. I reckon there’s a million to be made in wheelie-bin cleaning. I wish I was more entrepreneurial. And then you die with regret, just like that.

I’d just settle for more interesting. Perhaps you needed a change. Get a real job and all that. Why can’t you work like an adult? You know, full time?

I just answered the phone to my mother, smashed I am. She’s going to Bairnsdale. And Joan’s cancerous eye-lid is okay, they got it all. Thank god. Some French guy… they all talked so much… Photos in the woods? Okay. Bye mum.

I think she wanted to talk more. I couldn’t.

Tom called. I’d had another bong by then. All downhill from there, really. Don’t answer the phone when you’re whacked. It’s no fun. I’m not sure if Tom was happy or sad. Who’d know? I could only make out every other word.

I’ve got a bad cough.

moi

Christian