The First World War, The Invention of Jazz, the First Publicized Transatlantic Flight and the Story of Matteus Von Mustard's Startling Teeth
THE PROPHECY:
It has been prophecied that a new type of demon shall arise among us in the last days and they will be known by their “gleaming fangs” and “lascivious grin.” To hear the name of these new demons sends a chill down my spine. I will not repeat the dark tongue in which it is written -- but know that it translates as ‘souless smirkers.’ Only recently, did I realize how literally the prophets spoke when they said these things would arise among us.
THE PROCESS:
Our airwaves are awash with advertisements for alabasterizing agents! Men and women alike flock to the drugstores to purchase whitening pastes, whitening gums, whitening strips and whitening ray-guns. What's more, people pay thousands of dollars for special dentistry procedures to polish their pearlies to a perfect gleam! It will happen to you if you're not careful. You'll pay your money, you'll sit and suffer in that reclining chair but only afterwards will you come to realize the horrible price that you are about to pay. After the procedure the dental surgeon, leans over you and looks down into your eyes. He removes his small, paper mask and says:
"Your teeth look great now, we've whitened them a couple of shades, but it's going to take a bit of work to keep them this way. You'll have to make sure to floss and brush three times a day."
Fair enough, you think.
"Oh, also you're going to have to give up smoking."
You think to yourself, "Well, that's going to be tough, but it'll be good for me in the long run."
"Oh, and coffee. You'll have to give that up too."
Your heart begins to beat faster, something is horribly wrong. What sort of a twisted contract have you signed?
"Oh, and by the way. No red wine."
You're hyper-ventilating, you're choking, your vision is blurring. If you're lucky, you manage to end it all with that tiny drill while the dentist's back is turned.
And so you now see, how the deceiver Dybbuk offers us the gift of white-white teeth, but then exacts a promise from us to maintain his gift and in-so-doing steals from us the three greatest pleasures in life. Where would we be without cigars, coffee and red wine?
I understand that the temptation to dazzle the fairer sex with a fleeting flash of perfectly polished bicuspids, but the cost is too high.
Let me tell you how I avoided a similar fate, fifty years before this current spate of advertising.
THe TaLE OF MaTTEUS VoN MuSTARD'S STaRTLING TeeTH
After decades as an avid smoker, java enthusiast and oenophile, by 1914, my teeth were in appalling state. I was beginning to see that in time, this might make me slightly less than 110% attractive to women. But unfortunately, before I was able to launch my publicity campaign to affirm the attractiveness of slightly-blackened teeth, I was distracted by some ominous events in Bosnia-Herzegovenia.
In June of that year, I received a most shocking telegram that my dear friend Franz had been shot dead by members of the Black Hand. Like so many other emcees before him, Ferdinand rolled deep and so began World War I.
During the war, I did my best to serve the stipulations of my contract to the fullest, but I was constantly plagued by the distractions of my colleague Professor Doktor Heironymous Colgate, who burdened me with hourly ballyhoo endorsing his patented Tooth Bleach. By the end of the War To End All Wars, he nearly had me convinced that my slightly-blackened -- to be forthright, I prefer the phrase 'Cajun-style' -- teeth were somehow unhealthy or unattractive.
Luckily, I had distinguished myself through my various inventions during the war years and I was able to end my military service to enjoy the Peace To End All Peaces as a civilian. I knew that I would have to distract myself from the graphic images contained in Professor Doktor Colgate's various flyers, placards, circulars and bulletins, so I decided I might go and see what this "new" world was all about.
I had Alphonso take me to Ireland by motorcar, from there I snuck into a military base, by disguising myself as one Cpl. John Alcock and requisitioned myself an experimental aircraft -- it was a modified Vickers Vimy bomber if I remember correctly. So I flew that little bird, from Ireland straight through to Newfoundland. It was quite cold and a few times Alphonso had to climb out onto the wings to chop the ice off so it didn't weigh us down. We landed early in the morning of June 15th 1919.
Just after dawn, I removed my goggles and found myself staring into the eyes of the real Cpl. John Alcock. Apparently, he had been expecting the plane to be brought to him by sea, so that he could use it to complete the first transatlantic crossing later in the month. I explained what had happened and we had a good laugh. I gave him my goggles and my jacket and I said to him;
"Well old boy, I've got her warmed up for you, you might as well take off right now."
And so he did, with this little fellow named Arthur Whitten-Brown as his navigator, and the next day they landed back in Ireland, ahead of schedule, and won the 10 000 pound prize from the Daily Telegraph.
From "New"foundland, I took a train to "New" York, but it wasn't at all to my liking, so Alphonso and I hitchhiked to "New" Orleans, because I had heard they knew how to throw a good party in that town. I had a delightful time there, painting the town red with these wonderfully talented black-skinned fellows. They used to play a sort of an upbeat marching music that I was crazy for at the time. All of them except for this one dreary, cheerless chap by the name of Jelly Roll Morton. Oddly enough his real first name was Franz's last name: Ferdinand. But anyway, this man was quite a musician, but lord he was moody, so one day I said to him, and I remember this distinctly, I said:
"Jelly Roll Sir, I have had it up to hear with your melancholy melodies, why don't you jazz it up a bit."
What I said must have struck a chord in the young man's mind, because the next day he had his band blasting out the most rollicking tunes you ever heard! Next thing I knew he was the most popular man in town and we were out dancing in the bars until dawn every night.
I remember one particular evening, and this is what this digression is driving at so pay attention, this one evening, I was looking at this dirty tramp off in one corner and I noticed he had a mouth full of wooden teeth. I saw those and thought,
"Maybe this vagabond is on to something; certainly wood is too base a substance for one so noble as myself, but an entire set of Platinum teeth, now that would be just the ticket!"
The next morning I telegraphed my jeweller in London post-haste and had him fabricate a set of platinum dentures from a cast of my teeth which, for reasons I won't get into at the moment, is kept in a safe in Manchester. Two weeks later, the package arrived and I had Alphonso install them immediately. I was pleasant as a pheasant with my shiny new masticators; oh how the ladies did swoon that evening! I remember it now, me laughing uproariously, my platinum grill gleaming in the smoke-blue air of one New Orleans bar room after another. Oh how I did shine! No one had ever seen anything like it. Night after night, every man in the bar would ask me how he could get teeth like the wonderful Matteus.
The real beauty is in platinum's resilience, I haven't brushed my teeth once since October of 1919, and despite endless cigars, cappucinos and Cabernet Sauvignons my teeth are as shiny as the day I had them installed.
Shortly after that, Jelly Roll and his band began touring, -- I think they eventually found some popular acclaim up in Chicago and, from what I hear, over time, they had a not inconsiderable influence on American music -- once they left town, I lost interest in that particular scene and moved back to Europe. Over the decades my name has been forgotten and nothing remains to testify to my presence in New Orleans in the summer of 1919 except for the unquenchable desire of young African-Americans from the Southern United States to replace all their teeth with platinum.
Just in case you think I didn't get mine though, peep my website!
CONCLUDING REMARKS:
Dental hygiene zealots awake! The pearly gates lie not between thine lips. Within thine mouths lie mortal, earthbound teeth, meant for chewing, chomping and munching. Life is messy, dirty and delightful. Do not be seduced by the pristine permanence of your teeth, for it is, in truth, the pristine permanence of death that you are embracing. Do not join those lost souls who have already had their teeth whitened! As these people lie eternally banished from the brilliant radiance of the infinite heavens -- which is several shades purer and more sparkling than could be captured on any tooth chart -- they will wail and gnash their perfectly cultivated incisors until they chip and cleave apart.
Those of you intent on enduring supernatural tooth whitening processes, I urge you to reconsider.
Mind you, if you gotsta look flizzy for the hunniez, I fully overstand... still. Please visit my sales establishment on the world wide web and come away with the most mad-iced-out grill.
It has been prophecied that a new type of demon shall arise among us in the last days and they will be known by their “gleaming fangs” and “lascivious grin.” To hear the name of these new demons sends a chill down my spine. I will not repeat the dark tongue in which it is written -- but know that it translates as ‘souless smirkers.’ Only recently, did I realize how literally the prophets spoke when they said these things would arise among us.
THE PROCESS:
Our airwaves are awash with advertisements for alabasterizing agents! Men and women alike flock to the drugstores to purchase whitening pastes, whitening gums, whitening strips and whitening ray-guns. What's more, people pay thousands of dollars for special dentistry procedures to polish their pearlies to a perfect gleam! It will happen to you if you're not careful. You'll pay your money, you'll sit and suffer in that reclining chair but only afterwards will you come to realize the horrible price that you are about to pay. After the procedure the dental surgeon, leans over you and looks down into your eyes. He removes his small, paper mask and says:
"Your teeth look great now, we've whitened them a couple of shades, but it's going to take a bit of work to keep them this way. You'll have to make sure to floss and brush three times a day."
Fair enough, you think.
"Oh, also you're going to have to give up smoking."
You think to yourself, "Well, that's going to be tough, but it'll be good for me in the long run."
"Oh, and coffee. You'll have to give that up too."
Your heart begins to beat faster, something is horribly wrong. What sort of a twisted contract have you signed?
"Oh, and by the way. No red wine."
You're hyper-ventilating, you're choking, your vision is blurring. If you're lucky, you manage to end it all with that tiny drill while the dentist's back is turned.
And so you now see, how the deceiver Dybbuk offers us the gift of white-white teeth, but then exacts a promise from us to maintain his gift and in-so-doing steals from us the three greatest pleasures in life. Where would we be without cigars, coffee and red wine?
I understand that the temptation to dazzle the fairer sex with a fleeting flash of perfectly polished bicuspids, but the cost is too high.
Let me tell you how I avoided a similar fate, fifty years before this current spate of advertising.
THe TaLE OF MaTTEUS VoN MuSTARD'S STaRTLING TeeTH
After decades as an avid smoker, java enthusiast and oenophile, by 1914, my teeth were in appalling state. I was beginning to see that in time, this might make me slightly less than 110% attractive to women. But unfortunately, before I was able to launch my publicity campaign to affirm the attractiveness of slightly-blackened teeth, I was distracted by some ominous events in Bosnia-Herzegovenia.
In June of that year, I received a most shocking telegram that my dear friend Franz had been shot dead by members of the Black Hand. Like so many other emcees before him, Ferdinand rolled deep and so began World War I.
During the war, I did my best to serve the stipulations of my contract to the fullest, but I was constantly plagued by the distractions of my colleague Professor Doktor Heironymous Colgate, who burdened me with hourly ballyhoo endorsing his patented Tooth Bleach. By the end of the War To End All Wars, he nearly had me convinced that my slightly-blackened -- to be forthright, I prefer the phrase 'Cajun-style' -- teeth were somehow unhealthy or unattractive.
Luckily, I had distinguished myself through my various inventions during the war years and I was able to end my military service to enjoy the Peace To End All Peaces as a civilian. I knew that I would have to distract myself from the graphic images contained in Professor Doktor Colgate's various flyers, placards, circulars and bulletins, so I decided I might go and see what this "new" world was all about.
I had Alphonso take me to Ireland by motorcar, from there I snuck into a military base, by disguising myself as one Cpl. John Alcock and requisitioned myself an experimental aircraft -- it was a modified Vickers Vimy bomber if I remember correctly. So I flew that little bird, from Ireland straight through to Newfoundland. It was quite cold and a few times Alphonso had to climb out onto the wings to chop the ice off so it didn't weigh us down. We landed early in the morning of June 15th 1919.
Just after dawn, I removed my goggles and found myself staring into the eyes of the real Cpl. John Alcock. Apparently, he had been expecting the plane to be brought to him by sea, so that he could use it to complete the first transatlantic crossing later in the month. I explained what had happened and we had a good laugh. I gave him my goggles and my jacket and I said to him;
"Well old boy, I've got her warmed up for you, you might as well take off right now."
And so he did, with this little fellow named Arthur Whitten-Brown as his navigator, and the next day they landed back in Ireland, ahead of schedule, and won the 10 000 pound prize from the Daily Telegraph.
From "New"foundland, I took a train to "New" York, but it wasn't at all to my liking, so Alphonso and I hitchhiked to "New" Orleans, because I had heard they knew how to throw a good party in that town. I had a delightful time there, painting the town red with these wonderfully talented black-skinned fellows. They used to play a sort of an upbeat marching music that I was crazy for at the time. All of them except for this one dreary, cheerless chap by the name of Jelly Roll Morton. Oddly enough his real first name was Franz's last name: Ferdinand. But anyway, this man was quite a musician, but lord he was moody, so one day I said to him, and I remember this distinctly, I said:
"Jelly Roll Sir, I have had it up to hear with your melancholy melodies, why don't you jazz it up a bit."
What I said must have struck a chord in the young man's mind, because the next day he had his band blasting out the most rollicking tunes you ever heard! Next thing I knew he was the most popular man in town and we were out dancing in the bars until dawn every night.
I remember one particular evening, and this is what this digression is driving at so pay attention, this one evening, I was looking at this dirty tramp off in one corner and I noticed he had a mouth full of wooden teeth. I saw those and thought,
"Maybe this vagabond is on to something; certainly wood is too base a substance for one so noble as myself, but an entire set of Platinum teeth, now that would be just the ticket!"
The next morning I telegraphed my jeweller in London post-haste and had him fabricate a set of platinum dentures from a cast of my teeth which, for reasons I won't get into at the moment, is kept in a safe in Manchester. Two weeks later, the package arrived and I had Alphonso install them immediately. I was pleasant as a pheasant with my shiny new masticators; oh how the ladies did swoon that evening! I remember it now, me laughing uproariously, my platinum grill gleaming in the smoke-blue air of one New Orleans bar room after another. Oh how I did shine! No one had ever seen anything like it. Night after night, every man in the bar would ask me how he could get teeth like the wonderful Matteus.
The real beauty is in platinum's resilience, I haven't brushed my teeth once since October of 1919, and despite endless cigars, cappucinos and Cabernet Sauvignons my teeth are as shiny as the day I had them installed.
Shortly after that, Jelly Roll and his band began touring, -- I think they eventually found some popular acclaim up in Chicago and, from what I hear, over time, they had a not inconsiderable influence on American music -- once they left town, I lost interest in that particular scene and moved back to Europe. Over the decades my name has been forgotten and nothing remains to testify to my presence in New Orleans in the summer of 1919 except for the unquenchable desire of young African-Americans from the Southern United States to replace all their teeth with platinum.
Just in case you think I didn't get mine though, peep my website!
CONCLUDING REMARKS:
Dental hygiene zealots awake! The pearly gates lie not between thine lips. Within thine mouths lie mortal, earthbound teeth, meant for chewing, chomping and munching. Life is messy, dirty and delightful. Do not be seduced by the pristine permanence of your teeth, for it is, in truth, the pristine permanence of death that you are embracing. Do not join those lost souls who have already had their teeth whitened! As these people lie eternally banished from the brilliant radiance of the infinite heavens -- which is several shades purer and more sparkling than could be captured on any tooth chart -- they will wail and gnash their perfectly cultivated incisors until they chip and cleave apart.
Those of you intent on enduring supernatural tooth whitening processes, I urge you to reconsider.
Mind you, if you gotsta look flizzy for the hunniez, I fully overstand... still. Please visit my sales establishment on the world wide web and come away with the most mad-iced-out grill.
posted by Matthew Lie - Paehlke at 1:11 a.m.
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