Tetherd Cow Ahead

I was going to go and mow the back lawn this morning, it having grown into something of a jungle, but then I remembered that there really is no point because the world is going to end tomorrow. Yes, as I’m sure you’ve heard, September 10, 2008 is the day that the boffins throw the switch on the Large Hadron Collider, thereby creating a black hole that will expand in seconds to the size of a small planet and suck in all light and matter (including us) in the near vicinity.* ‘Near’ being a relative term, of course.

This is something of a shame, because I was really looking forward to my birthday in a couple of weeks. Amazing how much of an inconvenience a lot of nothing can be.

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*This is not really going to happen, despite the clamouring to the contrary by assorted lunatics.

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OK, in what must rank as one of the stupidest things that an Australian has said in public since John Howard announced that global warming was just fiction, Dr Mark Rose, the general manager of the Victorian Aboriginal Education Association, has told the Australian Broadcasting Corporation that girls may become infertile (or worse!) if they play the didgeridoo.

The VAEA has called for the Collins-published The Daring Book for Girls to be pulped because it encourages girls to just put their lips to the didge and blow, thus demonstrating ‘an extreme cultural indiscretion’. According to (some) aboriginal beliefs, you see, the didge is strictly Men’s Business.

This great cultural respect for the didgeridoo is apparently new-found – as far as I can see, the didgeridoo hasn’t been any kind of ‘sacred instrument’ for decades. It gets played on pop songs, in film scores, by buskers (aboriginal and white alike) on street corners for money and in performances in pubs to rock arenas. Didjeridoos are sold in just about every tourist shop from here to Innamincka (and they most certainly don’t come with warning labels saying ‘Not to Be Played by Women’). No-one seems to have been overly-concerned about any of these secular appearences of the painted hollow tree branch that makes noises.

I’m all for respecting people’s cultural beliefs, but sometimes the earnestness of some folks to do so has them bending so far over backwards that their head goes straight up their arse.

And political correctness aside, Dr Rose’s declaration that:

We know very clearly that there’s a range of consequences for a female touching a didgeridoo — infertility would be the start of it, ranging to other consequences. I won’t even let my daughter touch one.

… is superstition of the highest magnitude. Who the hell ‘knows very clearly’ that a female touching a didgeridoo would be rendered infertile? There are lots of women didge players all over the world – I bet we could find at least one who’s managed to have a baby. And as for the ‘other consequences’, Dr Rose threateningly leaves dangling – well, like so much irrational belief, the vague open-endedness of that contention smacks of yet another attempt by a religion to replace reason with fear.

What century are we living in again?

In his longest correspondence to date, Prophet Peter Popoff is now offering to up the ante on his promises to bring me untold wealth. He’s evidently gotten the concept that I’m less than enthusiastic about his schemes so far, and figures he must be underselling himself. Which is well nigh impossible with Prophet Pete – he’s not too shy of blowing his own trumpet as you all well know.

So, what does he do to entice me when he feels he’s not being generous enough with the Lord’s Bounty? Why he DOUBLES his offer, of course!* In this latest epistle, he sends me ‘The Mantle of Elisha’ (which looks more like an over-sized napkin from some cheap fast food joint than something Elisha might wear in public) and no less than thirty repetitions of a pledge to pass on to me a DOUBLE PORTION of the munificent bounty which is rightfully mine. And all he asks in return is that I send him $42.00! Bargain!

Disturbingly, however, he quickly sets in once again with the pervy requests:

Yes, you read correctly faithful Acowlytes. I’m supposed to rub the Mantle of Elisha all over my body, and then put it in my bible and sleep on it. It would seem that Peter Popoff seems completely fixated on these bizarre and unsavoury nocturnal practices as at other times (I think we can feel free to hypothesize that maybe Prophet Pete has been hanging around altogether too much with his pal David).

After I’ve done that, Prophet Pete exhorts me to touch the mantle with my hand (who knows why he needs to single out my hand, since I’ve already been rubbing it over everything else) and send it back to him. Now I have an image in my brain of Prophet Pete’s closet filled with Mantles of Elisha that have been rubbed over various and sundry bodies.

Wait a sec… sorry… OK, I think the nausea has passed…

Along with all the garbage in this particular letter I found A Special Australian Update in which I learn that Prophet Pete is currently ‘re-organizing’ his television ministry in Australia. Well, if it’s organized like his letters, that’s not hard to fathom (and anyway, I didn’t know he even had a television ministry in Australia). He goes on to say:

As part of this re-organization we have also changed our mailing address. You will notice a new mailing address on the enclosed return envelope.

Well, I actually hadn’t, but it comes as no real surprise. That sort of thing happens when you get busted for junkmail spam. The tragedy of it is that the 14 reply-paid envelopes I have been saving are no longer viable. Damn. And just when I’d hit on a plan for them – I was going to send him, one by one, the pieces of a jigsaw puzzle of a portrait of James Randi. I thought Prophet Pete might be chuffed to see an old friend appear before his eyes!

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*It’s not like it’s going to cost him anything. He could triple it or quadruple it for all it matters. There’s some well understood maths in play here: A x 0 = 0 (where A is any monetary figure you care to nominate)

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In Australia, September 1, the first day of our Spring, is also called Wattle Day. And true to form, around Cow Central, the wattle is putting on a magnificent display – the bush reserve upon which my window opens, is today splendiferous with yellow blooms.

Australia has nearly a thousand different species of native wattle (Acacia) and most of these are endemic. They range from small, inconspicuous shrubs to trees of 50 meters or more in height.

The wattle blooms vary in colour from pale cream through soft lemon to fluorescent, vibrant yellow. Many species are scented with beautiful and distinct perfumes that can differ considerably. Wattle can also trigger allergies, and the beginning of Spring is, for some, the onset of the Hayfever Season.

Wattle typically makes a poor cut flower, the blooms disintegrating into thousands of tiny yellow hairs within a day or so of being in a vase. Which is why, on beautiful Spring mornings, it is much better to go for a stroll in the park and admire this versatile and attractive plant in its natural setting!

Happy Wattle Day!

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NB: For all the Australian pedants out there – yes, I am aware that I’m posting this on September 2. That would be because I am declaring this the first Internet Wattle Day, and accordingly I have adjusted the post date so that it falls about halfway between September 1 in Australia, and September 1 throughout the rest of the world! You heard it first on The Cow

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You’ll remember that a couple of weeks back I retrieved my beautiful Big Briar Model 91C Theremin from storage for an unspecified outing… well I can reveal now that the producers of the Andrew Denton show Enough Rope had tracked me down and asked if they could borrow it for their interview with British comedian (and all-round genius) Bill Bailey, which went to air last night. They sprung the theremin on Bill unannounced, but he made a good fist of playing it (and believe me, that’s no small accomplishment). It’s not too surprising – he does use one in his stage show, albeit as a bit of a gimmick. Go here to see Bill Bailey showing the world how Zippity Doo Dah would turn out if rendered by Portishead.

Aside from all that, Bill is a bit of an authority on the history of the theremin as well, and has written about it for The Guardian.

You can see a snippet of the Enough Rope interview (unfortunately not the bit where he plays the theremin) here. And for some of Bill in the unmatchable Black Books alongside Dylan Moran, try this.

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Thanks to hewhohears for grabbing the above still frame from the show for me!

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