Quote of the day

(With a nod to Kottke.org for the tip.)

Apparently the rapper DMX has some fame in the world of music, although to be honest I'd struggle to identify him. I have heard of him though. Anyway, he revealed in an interview just published that he had never heard of Barack Obama, and it prompts an amusing little back and forth. People need to think of this the next time they wheel out a celebrity to pimp a politician or cause! The original discussion can be found at the XXL magazine's website.

(Note: the interviewer is in maroon, DMX in green).

"Are you following the presidential race?

Not at all.

You're not? You know there's a Black guy running, Barack Obama and then there's Hillary Clinton.

His name is Barack?!

Barack Obama, yeah.

Barack?!

Barack.

What the fuck is a Barack?! Barack Obama. Where he from, Africa?

Yeah, his dad is from Kenya.

Barack Obama?

Yeah.

What the fuck?! That ain't no fuckin' name, yo. That ain't that nigga's name. You can't be serious. Barack Obama. Get the fuck outta here.

You're telling me you haven't heard about him before.

I ain't really paying much attention.

I mean, it's pretty big if a Black…

Wow, Barack! The nigga's name is Barack. Barack? Nigga named Barack Obama. What the fuck, man?! Is he serious? That ain't his fuckin' name. Ima tell this nigga when I see him, "Stop that bullshit. Stop that bullshit" [laughs] "That ain't your fuckin' name." Your momma ain't name you no damn Barack.

So you're not following the race. You can't vote right?

Nope.

Is that why you're not following it?

No, because it's just—it doesn't matter. They're gonna do what they're gonna do. It doesn't really make a difference. These are the last years.

But it would be pretty big if we had a first Black president. That would be huge.

I mean, I guess…. What, they gon' give a dog a bone? There you go. Ooh, we have a Black president now. They should've done that shit a long time ago, we wouldn't be in the fuckin' position we in now. With world war coming up right now. They done fucked this shit up then give it to the Black people, "Here you take it. Take my mess."

Right, exactly.

It's all a fuckin' setup. It's all a setup. All fuckin' bullshit. All bullshit. I don't give a fuck about none of that.

We could have a female president also, Hillary Clinton.

I mean, either way it doesn't matter. I don't care. No one person is directly affected by which president, you know, so what does it matter.

Yeah, but the country is.

I guess. The president is a puppet anyway. The president don't make no damn decisions.

The president…they don't have that much authority basically?

Nah, never.

But Bush pretty much…

You think Bush is making fuckin' decisions?

He did, yeah, he fucked up the country.

He act like he making decisions. He could barely speak! He could barely fuckin' speak! Can't be serious. He ain't making no damn decisions.

Well Barack has a good chance of winning so that might be something.

Good for him, good for him."

Ah, Joe, you never knew the whole of it...

I still have the robot on the job. Here you can see the Tasmanian Museum and Art Gallery . And here is a poem: Soliloquy for One Dead Bruce Dawe Ah, no, Joe, you never knew the whole of it, the whistling which is only the wind in the chimney's smoking belly, the footsteps on the muddy path that are always somebody else's. I think of your limbs down there, softly becoming mineral, the life of grasses, and the old love of you thrusts the tears up into my eyes, with the family aware and looking everywhere else. Sometimes when summer is over the land, when the heat quickens the deaf timbers, and birds are thick in the plumbs again, my heart sickens, Joe, calling for the water of your voice and the gone agony of your nearness. I try hard to forget, saying: If God wills, it must be so, because of His goodness, because- but the grasshopper memory leaps in the long thicket, knowing no ease. Ah, Joe, you never knew the whole of it... I like Bruce Dawe. He just my be my favourite Austral

There was nothing left. No reason, no conscience, no understanding; even the most rudimentary sense of life or death, good or evil, right or wrong.

Here is a self portrait. I’m calling it Portrait of a lady in a dirty window . Shocking, isn’t it? However, it is apt! Samhain , Nos Galan Gaeaf , Hop-tu-Naa , All Saints , All Hallows , Hallowmas , Hallowe'en or HALLOWEEN . It’s Theme Thursday and we’re talking about the festivals traditionally held at the end of the harvest season. Huh? No wonder Australians have trouble with the concept of HALLOWEEN. For the record, in my thirty-two L O N G years on the planet, I can’t say I’ve ever seen ghosts ‘n goblins, trick ‘n treaters or Michael Myers stalking Tasmania’s streets at the end of October. [That said, I did once see a woman as pale as a ghost turning tricks that looked like Michael Myers in late November one time.] Despite the best efforts of Hollywood, sitcoms, and innumerable companies; it seems Australians are impervious to the [ahem] charms of a corporatized variant of a celebration of the end of the "lighter half" of the year and beginning of the "darke

In dreams begin responsibilities.

A life at sea, that's for me, only I just don't have the BREAD. That's right, Theme Thursday yet again and I post a photo of a yacht dicking about in Bass Strait just off Wynyard. The problem is, I am yet again stuck at work, slogging away, because I knead need the dough . My understanding is that it is the dough that makes the BREAD. And it is the BREAD that buys the yacht. On my salary though, I will be lucky to have enough dough or BREAD for a half dozen dinner rolls. Happy Theme Thursday people, sorry for the rush.

This will hurt me...

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Ah, Joe, you never knew the whole of it...

There was nothing left. No reason, no conscience, no understanding; even the most rudimentary sense of life or death, good or evil, right or wrong.

In dreams begin responsibilities.