A Freaky Easter
30/03/2013 11:55 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
izmeinaEaster is a strange time in Oz. Unlike Christmas this is one holiday transplanted here that actually works. While in Europe it is all about spring and the return of life after a long cold and dark winter plus of course all the Christian stuff overlaid on top. In this bit of Oz new life returns after undergoing up to three months of hell also known as our sizzling scorching summers where just about every living thing gets nearly nuked
Been lucky this year. Since the equinox every single day has been simply gorgeous weatherwise. It has been sunny but not too hot and the evenings are cooling down nicely. After a day or two of decent rain there’s all sorts of leaves popping even where they had not been planted. We have been known to get the odd 35 celsius even at this time of year but we seem to have been spared that particular replay of hell this time around.
Due to assorted Dursleyish dramas did not get to spend the equinox drooling over the gorgeous sculptures at Cottesloe Beach but did manage to get there the next day. While now is normally the perfect time to be planting this time there’s some serious pulling to be done too. The Ant man has declared that the big juicy leafy creature right outside the house since the beginning of time has been providing a means for termites to sneak past all sorts of muggle devised chemical protection to the inner sanctum of the Lair where they have been feasting in the walls and roof.
The roots of this infernal plant have been the perfect hiding place and bridge to even tastier snacks inside. So they have been able to completely avoid the very expensive Termidor chemical shield surrounding the house.
The botanical name of this beast even has Monstera in its title. It truly is the Cthulhu of the plant world. Its tentacles are invasive and all pervasive. Its big green juicy leaves are now forming a blanket over the ground near some citrus trees but the stump and roots are less easily removed from their original lurking grounds. Will end up having to dig up and remove every gram of soil around it to get the bugger out. The patch can then be dedicated to other purposes as long as there’s no soil within half a metre of the walls. It will have to be a herb or vegie patch as nothing treelike with long snaking roots can ever be allowed so near the Lair again.
Ten wheel barrow loads of the grey sandy dust that passes as soil here was insufficient to wrestle this beast from its lurking ground. It was so so tempting to slink off into the city instead on Thursday but the serpent resisted. The sooner the better this critter is gone and its territory reclaimed for garlic or beans to scare away the little white wood eating monsters. And anyway had come up with reasonable compromise. After two hours of serious digging could then have the guilt free indulgence of slinking off to the city around 5pm in order to go to a hopefully spooky Church service starting at 7pm.
It was not the first time this serpent had been to Tenebrae - a Service of Shadows but this one was in the Wesley Church. Their building is more gorgeous but the Catholics usually have the last word when it comes to beautiful rituals.
Had not expected that it would take a whole sixty minutes to get into the city at that time of day even when going against the off peak traffic. But that was not taking into account the monstrous bottle neck that is the present state of what used to be the Esplanade and is now a desecrated desolate building site for what is supposed to be a mini Dubai and will be more like some infernal dark mosquito infested swamp
After 55 minutes of being stationary at green lights and the endless jerkery so beloved of most local bus drivers (slamming on the brakes at every opportunity and driving the bus like some bucking bronco at a Texas Rodeo) got to thinking that the sixty minutes stuck in traffic was far more tiring and exhausting than two hours spent shoveling ten wheel barrows of dirt. The last straw was getting off at the back door which is the logical thing to do only to find that the stupid smart card reading machine was acting dumb and refusing to allow me to tag off due to not being at a proper bus stop. So then had to get off at the front door while a bunch of passengers had started to get on. At that stage was totally claustrophobic and a total nervous wreck.
All the inspiration and happiness had long evaporated. And the whole point of leaving an hour earlier than necessary in order to get a fix of Gauranga potatoes at Govindas was just another nail in the coffin of serpent contentment. Turned up just in time to see the very last spoonfuls of potatoes being served to the person just before the serpent in the queue. Would have gone to Mad Mex instead with one of those six dollar burrito coupons if not for the lure of those tasty turmeric and cream coated potatoes.
Did have their other stuff but aside from the dahl and dessert, it is not particularly inspiring. It’s usually bland and overcooked.
But never mind would slink off to New Edition book cafe for a fix of real chai tea as there was still 50 minutes until the start of the church service.
Turned out they were out of tea chai but they did have that awful chai latte powder. Earl Grey? That was all gone too.
Strange how the goblin taxation class that morning had been enjoyable and even the coffee in McDonalds before the class. Even though it was hard work digging up all that sand it was productive and useful and had felt unusually inspired with the plotting and planning of all the new plants. Had grand aspirations too for those maths assignments while sipping chai tea later in the city. The day was so full of hope and promise. But the one hour on that infernal bus had turned heaven into hell and a lucky day into a never ending string of jinxes. All objectively speaking insignificant as the bus did not crash or catch fire and there were no shoot outs or bombings anywhere in the city. But when Izzie gets all in a tizzie then reasonand reality just does not get a look in
It was such a relief to slink into a darkened church lit by only eleven candles and to admire the gorgeous stained glass and the art work around the walls for the annual ritual of the “Stations of the Cross’ exhibition. Had been to visit the previous day and that was how I knew about the 7pm Thursday service.
It turned out to be a bit misleading. Most of the service was a commemoration of the Last Supper and only the last twenty minutes was devoted to the darkness. There was a selection of readings and seriously spooky organ music with one candle being extinguished after each one until the church remained in near total darkness and silence
The Wesley church used to be Methodists but now come under the umbrella of what is called the Uniting Church which definitely includes the Anglicans and probably the Presbyterians too. They are a bit wimpish and watered down compared to most Christian sects but they welcome everyone and do not shove their faith down people’s throats. One could be wicked and say that is because they don’t have any but Izzie rather likes a church that has started up a discussion group with the title “Heretics Anonymous’. They also have excellent taste in buildings - beautiful but not ostentatious and certainly not minimalist or puritanical like some of the other Protestant groups
Noticed that they made a great point during the Last Supper ritual which they also call ‘The Eucharist’ of making it quite explicit that the bread and wine serve a symbolic purpose. No hocus pocus here. They also used real bread and not paper thin cardboard wafers
Evil Izzie just could not help but think of those ever so creepy lines in a certain graveyard -
“Flesh of the servant, willingly given,
You will revive your master”
It is precisely the inversion of the Eucharistic ritual to the ends of self aggrandisement rather than self sacrifice that made that chapter in “Goblet of Fire’ so damned creepy. And just to rub the readers’ nose in it those immortal lines “Lord Voldemort will provide”
Yesss. Knowledge of scripture can be used for all sorts of interesting purposes.
One pastor did the bread part and the other did the wine and they took turns with the assorted readings. The man used a tablet to read his lines which Izzie thought was really rather cool as it was so dark inside the church. Not a stone tablet but one of those new drool worthy tech gadgets
The woman wore glasses and had a little lamp illuminating her script. The pair of them also did the foot washing ritual. That is also a Catholic thing and Izzie suspects that just about all the volunteers are planted. Was glad to see that the new Pope Francis has added an interesting twist to this ritual.
The Thursday and Friday of the Easter rituals have so much to offer to appeal to the morbid and miserable side of human nature. It’s the same story year after year but there’s something about the whole betrayal and abandonment of an innocent man left to the mercy of a bunch of lawyers, clerics and hand washing politicians with an eye to nothing but the opinion polls
Good Friday is just about impossible to commercialize although you got to give some points for trying. A mob called “Off ya tree” that sells bongs and hippie things had a big poster of Jesus with his sacred heart and hands outstretched proclaiming “Easter Special - all body piercing $5”
I must have watched the movie “Jesus of Montreal” at least seven times but seven times seven times and I will still never tire of watching it. And so often just taken a quick peek of Dorothy Sayers’ “The man born to be King” oh just the itsy bitsy Christmas Chapter, and before you know it there’s already those court cases and Pilate washing his hands. It must be the funniest and snarkiest story of JC ever and her interpretation of the politics most insightful indeed especially as it was the late 1930s at the time. She has the best Judas ever, a smart and idealist conflicted character wanting to act ‘For the Greater Good’ who becomes the monster he wants to destroy
While the Easter Sunday ritual of the church service starting in darkness and ending in light is beautiful in its symbolism especially when there’s smells and bells involved, the whole resurrection thing just does nothing for Izzie. It’s not just the whole happy ending thing but anything but a purely symbolic interpretation is just too implausible. Not to mention the whole wishful thinking business that death has a get out clause
It’s like all the walking on water, raising the dead, feeding the millions stuff. All this bread and circus stuff gets folks attention away from what the man Jesus actually said and how a guy who could wipe the floor with just about any lawyer or rule book toting petty clerk on a power trip could end up on the wrong side of the dock and rather die than sell out or be undignified. A plan that went badly wrong or a wily attempt at playing the martyrdom card (best career move ever) given specific circumstances are much preferable alternatives to this “mission from God” thing.
So it will be a whole year now till the next socially sanctioned fix of doom and gloom, despair and misery followed by a happy clappy day of pigging out on chocolate
Been lucky this year. Since the equinox every single day has been simply gorgeous weatherwise. It has been sunny but not too hot and the evenings are cooling down nicely. After a day or two of decent rain there’s all sorts of leaves popping even where they had not been planted. We have been known to get the odd 35 celsius even at this time of year but we seem to have been spared that particular replay of hell this time around.
Due to assorted Dursleyish dramas did not get to spend the equinox drooling over the gorgeous sculptures at Cottesloe Beach but did manage to get there the next day. While now is normally the perfect time to be planting this time there’s some serious pulling to be done too. The Ant man has declared that the big juicy leafy creature right outside the house since the beginning of time has been providing a means for termites to sneak past all sorts of muggle devised chemical protection to the inner sanctum of the Lair where they have been feasting in the walls and roof.
The roots of this infernal plant have been the perfect hiding place and bridge to even tastier snacks inside. So they have been able to completely avoid the very expensive Termidor chemical shield surrounding the house.
The botanical name of this beast even has Monstera in its title. It truly is the Cthulhu of the plant world. Its tentacles are invasive and all pervasive. Its big green juicy leaves are now forming a blanket over the ground near some citrus trees but the stump and roots are less easily removed from their original lurking grounds. Will end up having to dig up and remove every gram of soil around it to get the bugger out. The patch can then be dedicated to other purposes as long as there’s no soil within half a metre of the walls. It will have to be a herb or vegie patch as nothing treelike with long snaking roots can ever be allowed so near the Lair again.
Ten wheel barrow loads of the grey sandy dust that passes as soil here was insufficient to wrestle this beast from its lurking ground. It was so so tempting to slink off into the city instead on Thursday but the serpent resisted. The sooner the better this critter is gone and its territory reclaimed for garlic or beans to scare away the little white wood eating monsters. And anyway had come up with reasonable compromise. After two hours of serious digging could then have the guilt free indulgence of slinking off to the city around 5pm in order to go to a hopefully spooky Church service starting at 7pm.
It was not the first time this serpent had been to Tenebrae - a Service of Shadows but this one was in the Wesley Church. Their building is more gorgeous but the Catholics usually have the last word when it comes to beautiful rituals.
Had not expected that it would take a whole sixty minutes to get into the city at that time of day even when going against the off peak traffic. But that was not taking into account the monstrous bottle neck that is the present state of what used to be the Esplanade and is now a desecrated desolate building site for what is supposed to be a mini Dubai and will be more like some infernal dark mosquito infested swamp
After 55 minutes of being stationary at green lights and the endless jerkery so beloved of most local bus drivers (slamming on the brakes at every opportunity and driving the bus like some bucking bronco at a Texas Rodeo) got to thinking that the sixty minutes stuck in traffic was far more tiring and exhausting than two hours spent shoveling ten wheel barrows of dirt. The last straw was getting off at the back door which is the logical thing to do only to find that the stupid smart card reading machine was acting dumb and refusing to allow me to tag off due to not being at a proper bus stop. So then had to get off at the front door while a bunch of passengers had started to get on. At that stage was totally claustrophobic and a total nervous wreck.
All the inspiration and happiness had long evaporated. And the whole point of leaving an hour earlier than necessary in order to get a fix of Gauranga potatoes at Govindas was just another nail in the coffin of serpent contentment. Turned up just in time to see the very last spoonfuls of potatoes being served to the person just before the serpent in the queue. Would have gone to Mad Mex instead with one of those six dollar burrito coupons if not for the lure of those tasty turmeric and cream coated potatoes.
Did have their other stuff but aside from the dahl and dessert, it is not particularly inspiring. It’s usually bland and overcooked.
But never mind would slink off to New Edition book cafe for a fix of real chai tea as there was still 50 minutes until the start of the church service.
Turned out they were out of tea chai but they did have that awful chai latte powder. Earl Grey? That was all gone too.
Strange how the goblin taxation class that morning had been enjoyable and even the coffee in McDonalds before the class. Even though it was hard work digging up all that sand it was productive and useful and had felt unusually inspired with the plotting and planning of all the new plants. Had grand aspirations too for those maths assignments while sipping chai tea later in the city. The day was so full of hope and promise. But the one hour on that infernal bus had turned heaven into hell and a lucky day into a never ending string of jinxes. All objectively speaking insignificant as the bus did not crash or catch fire and there were no shoot outs or bombings anywhere in the city. But when Izzie gets all in a tizzie then reasonand reality just does not get a look in
It was such a relief to slink into a darkened church lit by only eleven candles and to admire the gorgeous stained glass and the art work around the walls for the annual ritual of the “Stations of the Cross’ exhibition. Had been to visit the previous day and that was how I knew about the 7pm Thursday service.
It turned out to be a bit misleading. Most of the service was a commemoration of the Last Supper and only the last twenty minutes was devoted to the darkness. There was a selection of readings and seriously spooky organ music with one candle being extinguished after each one until the church remained in near total darkness and silence
The Wesley church used to be Methodists but now come under the umbrella of what is called the Uniting Church which definitely includes the Anglicans and probably the Presbyterians too. They are a bit wimpish and watered down compared to most Christian sects but they welcome everyone and do not shove their faith down people’s throats. One could be wicked and say that is because they don’t have any but Izzie rather likes a church that has started up a discussion group with the title “Heretics Anonymous’. They also have excellent taste in buildings - beautiful but not ostentatious and certainly not minimalist or puritanical like some of the other Protestant groups
Noticed that they made a great point during the Last Supper ritual which they also call ‘The Eucharist’ of making it quite explicit that the bread and wine serve a symbolic purpose. No hocus pocus here. They also used real bread and not paper thin cardboard wafers
Evil Izzie just could not help but think of those ever so creepy lines in a certain graveyard -
“Flesh of the servant, willingly given,
You will revive your master”
It is precisely the inversion of the Eucharistic ritual to the ends of self aggrandisement rather than self sacrifice that made that chapter in “Goblet of Fire’ so damned creepy. And just to rub the readers’ nose in it those immortal lines “Lord Voldemort will provide”
Yesss. Knowledge of scripture can be used for all sorts of interesting purposes.
One pastor did the bread part and the other did the wine and they took turns with the assorted readings. The man used a tablet to read his lines which Izzie thought was really rather cool as it was so dark inside the church. Not a stone tablet but one of those new drool worthy tech gadgets
The woman wore glasses and had a little lamp illuminating her script. The pair of them also did the foot washing ritual. That is also a Catholic thing and Izzie suspects that just about all the volunteers are planted. Was glad to see that the new Pope Francis has added an interesting twist to this ritual.
The Thursday and Friday of the Easter rituals have so much to offer to appeal to the morbid and miserable side of human nature. It’s the same story year after year but there’s something about the whole betrayal and abandonment of an innocent man left to the mercy of a bunch of lawyers, clerics and hand washing politicians with an eye to nothing but the opinion polls
Good Friday is just about impossible to commercialize although you got to give some points for trying. A mob called “Off ya tree” that sells bongs and hippie things had a big poster of Jesus with his sacred heart and hands outstretched proclaiming “Easter Special - all body piercing $5”
I must have watched the movie “Jesus of Montreal” at least seven times but seven times seven times and I will still never tire of watching it. And so often just taken a quick peek of Dorothy Sayers’ “The man born to be King” oh just the itsy bitsy Christmas Chapter, and before you know it there’s already those court cases and Pilate washing his hands. It must be the funniest and snarkiest story of JC ever and her interpretation of the politics most insightful indeed especially as it was the late 1930s at the time. She has the best Judas ever, a smart and idealist conflicted character wanting to act ‘For the Greater Good’ who becomes the monster he wants to destroy
While the Easter Sunday ritual of the church service starting in darkness and ending in light is beautiful in its symbolism especially when there’s smells and bells involved, the whole resurrection thing just does nothing for Izzie. It’s not just the whole happy ending thing but anything but a purely symbolic interpretation is just too implausible. Not to mention the whole wishful thinking business that death has a get out clause
It’s like all the walking on water, raising the dead, feeding the millions stuff. All this bread and circus stuff gets folks attention away from what the man Jesus actually said and how a guy who could wipe the floor with just about any lawyer or rule book toting petty clerk on a power trip could end up on the wrong side of the dock and rather die than sell out or be undignified. A plan that went badly wrong or a wily attempt at playing the martyrdom card (best career move ever) given specific circumstances are much preferable alternatives to this “mission from God” thing.
So it will be a whole year now till the next socially sanctioned fix of doom and gloom, despair and misery followed by a happy clappy day of pigging out on chocolate
