Excuse me while I get this off my chest...

I have expended quite a few words on Robert Mugabe over the past few months, but really, I think that five words is all that you need:

What an odious, obnoxious prick.

His comment this time? Prior to his dodgy runoff election he comes out with:

"Anyone who tries to undermine our land reform we will challenge. We are prepared to fight for our country or to go to war if we lose it - as happened to our forefathers."

This is exactly the rhetoric that one could see in Spain prior to the Spanish General Election of 1936 (albeit from both sides in that case). We know what happened there.

Comments

Jane Hards Photography said…

Love the Mugabe words. couldn't agree more. My partner is the BBC Politics show cartoonist. He can't use these words, but has drawn quite a vicious cartoons on the subject. Not surprisingly he gets very strange emails and hits from mugabe's way. W await the knock at the door any time.

17 June 2008 at 00:13

Kris McCracken said…

I am still waiting on Mugabe to go, unfortunately, he will only leave feet first, I think.

I’d keep the deadbolt on the door, just to make sure!

24 August 2008 at 15:51

If you want to be loved, be lovable.

Henry admires the view.

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

Zeal, n. A certain nervous disorder afflicting the young and inexperienced. A passion that goeth before a sprawl.

Here I have tried my hand at the homemade sepia-toned photo. I wasn’t happy with the way that the sun had washed out some of the colours in the original, so had a bit of a fiddle because I like the look on Henry’s face, and didn’t want to pass on posting it. I have a tip for those of you burdened with the great, unceasing weight of parenthood. I have a new recipe, in the vein of the quick microwaved chocolate cake . Get this, microwaved potato chips . I gave them a run on Sunday, Henry liked the so much I did it again last night. Tonight, I shall be experimenting with sweet potato. I think that the ground is open for me to exploit opportunities in the swede, turnip, carrot and maybe even explore in the area of pumpkins. Radical, I know. I’m a boundary-pusher by nature. It's pretty simple, take the potato. Slice it thinly (it doesn't have to be too thin, but thin enough). Lay the slices on the microwave plate, whack a bit of salt over the top and nuke the buggers for five minut

This will hurt me...

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