Skip to main content

Anyone who makes plans for after the revolution is a reactionary


I know that I have severely limited the world's access to the gritty urban mean streets of Hobart, but well, you're not missing much. I have previously mused on the prevalence of penises in youthful graffiti, profound messages on poles, I've even mentioned how we've got the word 'dick' scrawled on our fence (it keeps reappearing)! Today's picture does not dwell on such low brow material, it concerns the ongoing ideological war bubbling away under the surface here in the southernmost capital city in Australia. I shall let the image speak for itself, but tomorrow I shall expand and show another photograph of the grubbiest former vegetarian eatery in the world!

Tomorrow at one: McCracken shall rant on anarchists!
Labels:

Comments

Bobby D. said…
Mytown USA thinks it's way grittier than it is.
20 September 2008 at 22:20
Dan said…
Thanks for your comments on my blog Chris. Love this pic! I like the irony.
21 September 2008 at 00:56
bitingmidge said…
Hah!

Kris, did you catch up with the news that I know who Bill Posters is?

I don't comment often, but I enjoy your stuff!

Sunshine Coast Daily - Australia
21 September 2008 at 09:55
blackie said…
I often walk past some graf that says "chopin is a shit head". Angry conservatory student? There's also a huge 'jesus loves animals' on the tannery near my house. Better than 'dick' anyway.
22 September 2008 at 08:47
Kris McCracken said…
D., which town is that? If it’s Detroit, I bet that it’s gritty enough!

Dan, no probs. If I had posters, I don’t think I’d want them on this horrid little joint.

Bitingmidge, I did see Bill. I hope that they didn’t get in trouble, it was a good laugh.
22 September 2008 at 15:51
Kris McCracken said…
Louis, better than this lot!

Blackie, I like Chopin. Wagner was a dick though.

If I had the nerve, I’d write under that Jesus sign “He especially likes them deep fried in batter”.
22 September 2008 at 15:54
Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

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
5 comments
Read more

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
38 comments
Read more

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.
36 comments
Read more