The world itself is the will to power - and nothing else! And you yourself are the will to power

The world itself is the will to power - and nothing else! And you yourself are the will to power - and nothing else!

A two for one deal today. I couldn't resist posting this one. I have mused quite a bit on young Henry's dictatorial tendencies, and this image today gave rise to thought that perhaps Ezra will join the totalitarian tot in his approach. Look at that stern gaze, that stiff arm salute. He could be anything. Even the scantest knowledge of recent history will tell you that it is a worrying sign.

People ask me what it is like to have a couple of little potential Übermenschen here, and I reply that it is best to always be on my guard. As one of the ruling elite in the household, I am always on the lookout for potential coups, and the evidence thus far indicates that it seems to be in both of these fellow's blood. Power-sharing agreements might buy me some time, but how long?

Comments

Anonymous said…

OMG that baby seems to know very well what he wants :-)

21 August 2008 at 00:29

ut si said…

v funny post!

21 August 2008 at 12:03

Jim Klenke said…

You are doomed.

21 August 2008 at 12:27

USelaine said…

I'm won over by the seed-stitch trim on his sweater. He had me at heil-o.

22 August 2008 at 18:51

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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