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Is God a Mechanic?

To read more of Mark Roper's writing, please read the novella, TWO FEET, available on this site with its link to +Amazon.com. For a mere pittance it is available as a +Kindle Fire download or as a paperback.

Feel free to comment and support this Blog. Your purchase will enable me to sharpen the pencil, or, at least, buy another! 

IS GOD A MECHANIC?

Meneer Gerber once said we were all marching forward on God’s road.

God was our engine driving us on.

God was our petrol fuelling us around the bends and up the hills and down the hills.

God was a powerful motor vehicle and we were his passengers.

I wanted to put my hand up and ask if God wore a crash helmet, as the racing car drivers do that I had seen pictures of. But I did not.

I wanted to put my hand up and ask if God’s car, as it zoomed along, also left behind clouds of red dust that asphyxiated bird and insect as it travelled. But I did not.

I wanted to put up my hand and ask if God’s car had any gears, especially a reverse gear. I was thinking that a reverse gear would be a good idea for God’s car because if there were any mistakes to be fixed, God could just reverse over the mistakes and then drive forward again. This way He could repair the mistakes and make certain they never occurred again. But I did not ask.

I wanted to put my hand up and ask if God’s engine ever broke down. But I did not.

But I should.

Was a submersible borehole-pump not a part of God’s engine?

I won't ask.

But if God was in control of an engine, any engine, then He would know how to repair it?

But I should ask.

A borehole was an engine. It had an engine, a pump. It was buried deep down in the shaft after the drilling machine – Clunk! Clunk! Clunk! -- had driven away leaving mounds of red clay and diesel and black oil stains on the grass. Yes, a pump engine that sucked the water from down there where it was quiet and still and dark. Immersed in the bowels of the earth, where the sun didn't shine and where the water was sweet.

I won't ask.

I will.

Will not.

Will.

I raised my hand.

“Meneer?”

Meneer Gerber had his feet up on the desk. He twisted his feet and separated them so he could get a view of me. He remained lounging back in the wooden chair that often creaked with the sound of a timid fart. He looked at me between his polished shoes.

“I did not ask a question, boy.”

“No, Meneer.”

“Then what the bloody Hell do you want?”

“You are in deep kak (shit), Rooinek!”That was Pisskop’s whispering voice. He sat at the rear of the class, but his words were like rifle shots in my burning ears.

Stand up, Feet. Make me stand. Please!

I stood on shaking knees trying to focus on Meneer Gerber’s shoes that partly hid his face. I was deeply flushed. I felt as if I was rolling in a field of stinging nettles. The soles of Meneer Gerber’s shoes were worn thin, and there was a patch on the left shoe. I spoke to the patch.

“Dust, Meneer. There is only dust now because the borehole engine has broken. In the vegetable garden where my mother is growing radishes, beetroot, cabbage and carrots so we can sell them at the road shop. (Breathe, chest in and out) Mister Kelly, he says the pump is old and worn, and he showed us the remains of some rusty pieces (cheeks hot, so hot)...so... so now there is no water, Meneer because of the pump so we...we are carrying water now from the dam in Mister Kelly’s jerry cans. (Bare-feet now sweating on the wooden floorboards and toes curling) We use a pole, Meneer, so we can carry the water on our shoulders, you see? But the grass on the hill is dry Meneer, and we are often falling and (hearing a dry chuckle from Pisskop)...and Mabuza is helping with some rope to pull the jerry cans up the hill, and my mother, she is really trying to show the water the way to find the vegetables. (No breath anymore. Sucking in air) Meneer, but it is not enough water without the borehole engine so...so...I...the plants are dying in the dust so I...so I...was thinking that maybe God because he knows engines, Meneer, can fix the submersible pump?”

Meneer Gerber abruptly swings his feet off the desk. He sits slowly upright in the wooden chair that makes a farting sound. He does not lose focus of me.

I remained standing. Sweaty, naked feet glued to wooden floorboards. A strong smell of chalk suddenly, a waft of Pisskop’s sour body odour. I sense movement from Max, the baker’s son, seated behind his desk. It is more of a nervous squirm, like someone waiting for a film to be projected.

“You are in deep, deep kak (shit), Rooinek,” whispers Pisskop from out there amongst the blurred faces.

Think:  mother on hands and knees in dust whispering to rivulet of tepid water. Solution: God repairs pump. Result: mother not necessary to be on hands and knees in dust whispering to tepid water.

“Are you...”His voice is shrill with pain, like the sound a rugby player makes when he is kicked between the legs. He coughs then again speaks.

“Are you are asking me if God is bloody mechanic, boy?”

I am I suppose, so I nod, and my head feels heavy, and I know the gesture makes me look like a dumb child with his bare feet glued to a wooden floor.

I am soon bent over with my head in the corner. Above my head, just a few inches away, is a small book shelf. It carries two heavy books – the A-Z of African Wildlife and Fauna and the A-Z of Places of the World. There is a layer of chalk dust on the books. They are not a part of the curriculum so are never read and are left to gather chalk dust.

When a child is bent over in a corner of a room, and he is given a caning, his first reaction is to recoil, is to lift up his head. That is what the bookshelf is for. When you recoil, you slam your head into the bookshelf. This way Meneer Gerber gets you twice with one blow. This way the A-Z of African Wildlife and Fauna and the A-Z of Places in the World also have some use.

I look down at my two, bare feet as Meneer Gerber lands the first of six strokes. He will land the second stroke half an inch above the first, and then the third will strike where the first landed. He is a master of his craft.

I wonder if God will try the reverse gear for me.

*****

A question I never asked:

“Daddy, how do I switch this on?”

*****

A question I never asked:

“Daddy, how do I switch this off?”

TO READ THE CONCLUSION OF THIS STORY, CHECK UNDER POPULAR POSTS ON THE LEFT!!!

Emergency Data Law

Now that the UK parliament has passed the Emergency Data Law does that mean they have the right to read and check my letters?
If so, maybe they can make sense of my electricity bill +EDF Energy or the umpteen pages of crap relating to lounge suites, car insurance and window glazing that keep the postman busy.
Grumpy. Time to shake out the old Olivetti typewriter but I did recently hear that during the Cold War, the Russians implanted some gizmo in the golf-ball typewriters (remember them?) that were being used by the Americans in their Embassy. The gizmo calculated the rotations of the ball and the letters it was using -- how on earth they used that info is beyond my ageing brain -- all sounds like nonsense but it was something I heard -- just saying nowhere is safe. Carrier pigeon??????

Self publishing - costs and benefits

The costs and benefits of publishing your own books

An interesting article via the +BBC News on publishing your own book.

I don't know if I should weep or cry!!

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/business-28268014

Any comments out there??? Your experiences as a self published author? This is an open Blog and feel free to comment!!!

Film directing -- it hurts to compromise.

NOW YOU SEE IT, NOW YOU DON'T. HOW DOLLARS OMIT FILM SCENES.

...I was recently approached to scribe an article for a film magazine about how a director has to deal with rewrites, and why do they even happen at all. Here's an extract and, as always, any wanna-be film directors or veterans want to comment, please feel FREE!!

‘The best laid plans of mice and men often go astray.’ So wrote Mister Robert Burns – in his case he was referring to a nest of mice that he’d recently ploughed over, but in our case he may well have been referring to directing a film.

Be prepared to compromise. Yes, even if it dents your integrity and stems the flow of the creative juices. There are only a handful of directors out there who have the privilege of months of pre-production. If you are one of them, no need to read on. If not, clench your teeth. Budget now dictates story and a shooting schedule dictates your style. That’s the reality. That scene you so love in which your hero steals a Ferrari and rampages through four city blocks? It is now too costly and you've been told this a week before filming. Short of robbing a bank, your only alternative is to rewrite, a process dreaded by production as it can, in the short term, change plans that have already cost time and money. So why have it in the script in the first place? Because it helped finance the film, but that was before the accountants stepped in.

I’ve directed and worked on numerous films in which the process of rewriting is happening even when shooting has begun. (Recently on a high budget film the day dawned, at much expense, to shoot the conclusion only to discover that it hadn't been written or agreed on. What was the compromise? Shoot two endings.)   I’m not talking about dialogue tweaks here, but radical changes that are being put in effect because of location fees, actor availability and schedule restraints.

Is there a way to avoid these skirmishes? Film is collaborative – you may be the director, the man with the ideas, with the vision, but it takes a team to support your thinking and make it happen. Communicate the script and your ideas constantly with your team – it may well be your stunt co-coordinator who suggests swapping the Ferrari for a motorbike and shooting the scene on a beach rather than through four city blocks. By doing so, the drama you wanted remains intact.  Allow initiative and sometimes that compromise even surprises you for the better. But use your minimal prep time to hammer through those scenes that are an enemy to the schedule – rewrite, re-think and let your concerns be known. Some creative producing is a must. Better change it on the page than see your vision disappear in a blur on the day.

A few years ago I was directing a film when one of the actors, Nameless, discovered some chemical nutrient and, consequently, became hospitalized. There was much panic overnight, especially by the producers. Fortunately we’d already shot the beginning and the end of the film with her, but what to do about her in the second act? Compromise – I scribbled an off-camera scene with her (voice only) and her pretend husband and had them argue, thus letting the audience know she wasn't coming out of her train apartment…until she had to!

So why direct a film if it seems so stressful, so compromising? Climbing Everest in the nude may read as a less painful way to earn a living – directing is an exploration of yourself and it allows you to share that part of you that, the Gods Willing, may inspire and entertain others. It is a tough road to travel and anyone who tells you otherwise is lying, but it is a great dance as long as you chose your partner(s) well. 

Two Feet -- How to save your money.

IS IT WORTH THE READ?

...with the advent of self-published novels via Amazon you pretty much can lay your hands on a novella for less than $3.00 -- +Kindle Fire and +Amazon.com -- competition is rife and from what I read, self-published authors are now topping the one million mark, plus. Like all things in life, we are all out there looking for the angle, the market, the means, to get our books read, to get recognised and chase the dream. Dare I add, a glimpse of the dream as I'm not that naive.
So I was thinking -- what do you get for $3.00 nowadays? Not much -- just on a litre of gasoline here in the UK and not even a pint of beer. Ten cigarettes if you are lucky and half-hour parking spot in an over-crowded parking lot where some idiot will bend your fender without leaving an apology so consequently that half hour will cost you a few hundred pounds.
I'm no mathematician, +The Economist, but analysing TWO FEET, the novella, I'm suggesting your $3.00 is pretty good value for your time:

Here's how I roughly figured it out:

A WORM UP YOUR BUM:
...an entire chapter dedicated on how to eradicate the little bastard worm common to people in Africa, with thanks to the medical advice of a now deceased Sangoma. (Ask your local GP for this advice and you will be re-mortgaging your house).

CORPORAL PUNISHMENT:
...how to survive six lashes of the best by a devout, +Marvel Comics reading, religious schoolteacher -- as corporal punishment is now "banned" this chapter may not offer much other than for you to remind your children as to how it was in "those days"! Parental advice is costly, but here you can gather it for less than $3.00. Not bad, me thinks.

WHERE ARE YOU FATHER?
...numerous chapters and thoughts on the disappearance of your father. Without the gloom but, admittedly, with a touch of salt and tears. What you learn by reading this is solely up to you -- but I cannot put a price on sharing such a loss, such a journey, so I will leave this open to your own interpretation: hoping, in our little way, that it has saved you the cost of a therapist simply by realising that you are not alone. Worth the $3.00 spend so I feel.

DEALING WITH A WARRIOR:
...this may read as foolish, but we ALL, daily, deal with our warrior -- be he within, be he on the outside. He's your creation, your light, your escape. Dealing with your warrior will inspire and often deflate, but his guidance is imperative. Take heed of his words and his hand. Travel his road for less than $3.00 and, hopefully, you smile at the end of the road (...if there is one!)

THE INDIAN DOCTOR FROM CALCUTTA:
...how to arrive in a small town with your dreams and have them dashed, until you learn the way of the people. If you are in business, are a manager, take heed of our Doctor in Two Feet -- there are always parallels, comparisons. Be it now, be it then -- he may have a problem with chickens shitting on his car, but don't we all ? So here's some business advice...for less than $3.00.

...saying more will give it away -- which is almost what it is now, a GIVE-AWAY -- but no matter what the price, there's always something worthwhile between the covers.  Spend it, but spend it wisely --

...As always I look forward to your comments (there's a box that can be ticked at the end of this Blog -- it's easy to do...use your wrist...and enjoy the spend...enjoy the read -- for $3.00 you get to read eleven years of my life -- that can't be so bad, can it??

$3.00 well spent here!!