THE ELEVATION OF MALARIA SWAMP

THE ELEVATION OF MALARIA SWAMP ?

Malaria Swamp's name was absolutely well-suited to her, it matched her
persona, and possibly even enhanced it. Swampy as her collaborators
called her was an eco-warrior from the tip of her Mohican multicoloured
hair to the toes of her battered Doc Martin boots. Malaria's tattooed
and body pierced frame was well-known from Greenham Common through many
bypass sites and demonstrations to the Holy Loch.

Popular myth had it that Malaria spent more time in trees than most
squirrels and had been in more tunnels than a sack full of moles. Many
whales were said to owe their longevity to Malaria's protesting outside
Japanese and Norwegian Embassies. Negating this the necessity for bogus
research on dead whales by both of these countries had increased a
thousand fold. Conversely the enlargement of these phoney experiments
could also be laid at her doorstep.

Swampy's peer group held her in awe, in fact her very presence at any
demo gave that particular rally, mass meeting or sit-in credibility.
Commentators, news reporters, editors, etc., vied for places at her
press conferences. She was seen by the media as the nominal
eco-warrior. Malaria was no stranger to the entertainment suites at
local, national and world-wide television studios. Being a vegetarian
she drank copious amounts of distilled and alcohol reinforced fruit and
cereal juices at these bashes.

The more of these clear fruit and cereal juices she consumed the more
colourful her language became. Her Mohican hair style, tattoos, body
ornaments, Doc Martin's and filthy jeans, were all welcomed on a
variety of panel and game shows. Swampy's body odour and tendency to
use four letter expletives, in consort with many bleeps, also
accompanied her on those jaunts, but they of course came at no extra
cost to the media.

Children it is said come with their own charm and purity of heart,
however this was not so in Amarila Marsh's case. Amarila was born the
only child of reformed alcoholics Nelly and Moses Marsh. Marriages are
made in heaven is an often quoted adage Nelly and Moses's marriage was
not, theirs was created and consummated at the Alcoholics Anonymous
meeting hall in downtown Scunthorpe. Although the two inebriates had
tried on numerous occasions to kick their alcoholic habit, it had
always been without success. Their baby's imminent arrival gave the
proud future parents the incentive to shy away at last from their
devil, the demon drink.

Amarila was an extremely ugly baby, should Rumple Stiltskin have made a
changeling switch for her, it was without doubt that he would have got
the worst of the deal. She was not only hideous she was also anti
social. Anyone going to comfort the forever angry, crying child would
either be vomited on or hit with a rattle, that is if something heavier
or soggier was not to hand. Strangers who were drawn to look into the
pram would make an ashen faced retreat and comment how nice the
battered pram looked. Perhaps they would even fib at how chic the
baby's Oxfam rejected clothes looked, folk would say anything rather
than equivocate what a charming baby she was. The populace at large
will forgive an infant most things if the child is bonny, but this sin
of being ugly without any saving graces is inexcusable.

Nelly Marsh came home broken hearted one day when one of her ex
drinking buddies gave her a banana for the monkey in her pushchair.
Amarila's refusal to be comforted by her bottle drove her parents to
seek comfort from theirs, the child had actually drove her parents back
to the booze. Neighbours commented that little baby Marsh's demeanour
was as a result of her having been born to reformed alcoholics. Their
rational being that it was obvious the baby was in a continuous alcohol
cold turkey withdrawal condition.

Ill-starred Amirila was a born looser. For the whole time of her
miserable childhood and in to her puberty poor young Amarila was
rejected by one and all. She had no playmates, teachers who should have
known better found any excuse they could for chastising the wretched
child. Neighbours who had once blamed her parents for their child's
behaviour now blamed Amarila for her parents straits. Regardless of how
she tried, the ugly duckling was in a no win catch twenty two
situation.

Amarila became so despondent that she hated herself, she punished
herself by self abuse with such things as nail files and cutlery. One
day just after her thirteenth birthday when her teacher showed her up
in front of the class Amarila secretly castigated herself with the
first thing that came to hand. That implement just happened to be a
fountain pen loaded with green ink which she jabbed into the palm of
her left hand.

Clutching her pained hand tightly she excused herself and went to the
toilet. She opened her fist under a stream of hot water to wash the
blood and ink away. The wound was deep and dyed with the ink from the
pen, picking up a paper towel she gripped it as tightly as she could
and returned to her torture chamber of a classroom.

That night and for a further several days and nights the infected wound
throbbed and burned into her very soul. No one cried for Amarila's pain
not even herself. Several weeks later after the scab and pus cleared
away the swollen wound that remained was like a green abstract picture
of a tree. In appearance it was a Cyprus with the creases of her palm
forming its tangled trunk, roots and branches.

Some time later Amarila while seated at her desk was staring at the
pretty picture in her left hand and smiling. All of a sudden a
black-board rubber on a rebound from her head exploded on to the desk,
shaking her out of her reverie. Ms. Johnston the black-board bully
glared at the startled girl as she screamed "Hold it up and let
everyone see what your grinning at." Amarila proudly held up her hand
and everyone looked in silence. The silence was soon broken however by
the screaming call me Ms and not Miss Johnston. "Go and wash it off you
stupid girl." "It wont wash off Miss?I mean Ms. It wont wash off."
"I'll wash it off for you, come here girl." When the nervous teenager
approached the angry harridan, the red faced tyrant grabbed the
offending hand and began scrubbing it with a dirty piece of rag and
spittle.

Amarila with a reflex action pulled her hand away, knotted it into a
fist and punched her tormentor square on the nose. Ms. Pearl Johnston
landed on her well padded arse, for once in her life she was absolutely
speechless, with blood, snots and tears streaming down her normally
cruel face. As plain as day Pearl Johnston after all was capable of
showing compassion, but only for herself. The class was in an uproar
with both the girls and the boys all laughing and cheering their new
hero of the hour Amarila Marsh.

The following few hours before her expulsion where the happiest in the
thirteen year olds young life. Suddenly she was the most popular
student in the school her left hand with its tree tattoo was admired by
one and all.

When the young lady did her rogues march from the head's office the
school yard was lined with cheering students. Even some of the downed
teachers colleagues were stood there with veiled appreciative grins on
their faces. Amarila with her new found fame marched proudly off the
campus with the words of 'She's a jolly good fellow' ringing in her
ears.

The indelibly branded tree girl turned over a new leaf, Amarila became
an anagram of herself and the Marsh part of her designation grew into a
Swamp. Amarila Marsh by choice mutated herself into Malaria
Swamp.

When Malaria was finally placed in a new school her notoriety proceeded
her, and nobody neither teacher or pupil messed with Malaria Swamp.
Along with her growing reputation a burgeoning confidence expanded
pro-rata. Since the accidental addition of her tree tattoo appeared to
bring good fortune Malaria soon added other tattoos. Along with the
permanent skin designs she became a devotee of the art of body
piercing. Outrageous hair styles and attire were added to the body
decoration to give an overall change to the once homely looking timid
child.

Despite her outward appearance Malaria had a sharp brain and as she
progressed on through a variety of radical tattooed cults and groups
she became a natural leader. Her often extreme opinions on ecological
matters were heeded, given credence and quoted by way of the various
media outlets. Soon the easily recognised token eco-warrior became
famous for being famous and was sought for a variety of committees.
Following this by natural progression her patronage was sought and
gladly received on a number of charity boards.

With each new step on the celebrity ladder Malaria more and more became
part of the establishment she had once censured. As time went by her
wardrobe progressively changed in line with her new status. Although
she still sympathised with many of the causes for which she had fought,
notably her attitude mellowed.

Very soon the body ornaments and adornments began to become less
obtrusive and some even vanished altogether. Tattoos were either
covered by sensible clothes or removed some could only be altered. One
of her more prominent ones now read 'Buck the system it sucks' making
it now a polite conversation piece when she wore a summer dress. As her
breasts became more pendulous the words 'Skimmed' and 'Full Fat' were
camouflaged by the ripe fully-developed mammary glands.

Amarila or Amy as she became known developed into what can be only
described as a handsome woman. When she married at the age of
thirty-two there was an extremely wide and in some cases wild variety
of wedding guests. The guests however had one thing in common and that
was their love and respect for the new Mrs. Amy Green.

Amy made an excellent wife to her husband and fellow humanitarian Tom
Green, and later a good mother to their twin daughters and son. As she
matured her inner beauty radiated outward making her not pretty in the
aesthetic sense but attractive in an ethereal way. For all of their
good works with their manifold charity organisations Mr. and Mrs. Green
were elevated to the peerage. At the investiture ceremony Amy looked
stunning, the ermine certainly suited her persona, but almost everyone
wondered why Amy and Tom had chosen the curious title of Lord and Lady
Cyprus Green.

by Don Passmore ?