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Pasha Malla: Foul Mouth

Pasha Malla: Foul Mouth

Malla rethinks our love of dental hygiene after the dentist takes away more than plaque @ Masionneuve.
Teeth: what are they? Bones?
No, enamel, I think. But what’s enamel?
There’s enamel in my bathroom; it’s covered in pink mould. And what’s so bad about that? My mould is the colour of an angel’s cottonfloss dream! As I used to tell my ex-spouse to tell the help, “Why clean the shower? Pink is the new something-something.” Then I would put on some smooth jazz. And then we danced.
Basically, dental hygiene is the great lie of our time.
In the olden days, nobody had any teeth. Just mouth after mouth of woodchips, as far as the eye could see. Then technology invented dentures. My grandma used to keep hers, delectably, in a glass of water on the nightstand. In the evening she removed a part of her body and in the morning reinserted it with adhesives. Fact: science can fake almost any body part. Along with false teeth, there are glass eyes, prosthetic limbs, bejeweled silver noses, jellied gazongas—even wigs made from dead people’s hair! So why take care of your teeth?
The whole life-cycle of teeth is pointless. We are born toothless and incompetent; then comes teething, that great festival of screaming and drool. Then these itinerant teeth fall out, packing entire schoolyards with lisping youth. More teeth come in, including the perversely misnamed “wisdom” molars, only to be crudely wrenched from the jaw like dead stumps from the earth. We get a few good years in, but in old age all our teeth fall out again. Imagine if the same were to happen to our feet? No one would stand for it, ha ha.
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