News don' lack a carrier.

Here is one from this morning of the flags atop of the Tasmanian Parliament. As you can see, this is not the bluest of skies that you’ll see here in Hobart.

The proverb is one from Barbados, source of another one of my all time favourite photo blogs, the consistently excellent Barbados in Focus, where Keith Clark has done a magnificent job in recording for posterity some of the remnants of the Barbados of old, as well as what’s happening these days. I really can’t recommend this one highly enough!

The proverb is self-evident, but I read it as “There’s always someone ready to spread any sort of news around, particularly if it's juicy.”

Comments

Anonymous said…

I thought it was a gull on the roof, but it's the CCTV. Looks like Big Brother is out to get you too (he's been active over here for years).

17 October 2008 at 19:06

Priyanka Khot said…

Kris,

I can't thank you enough for the simple fact that you have introduced me the the world of quotes from across the world in different languages.

I am a fan of cliches and quotes since the time a teacher of mine said to me, "Priyanka,they are cliches because they are true."

Whenever I read quotes on your blog I realise that all across the world the truths remain ONE and are applicable to all.

Thanks once again.

17 October 2008 at 22:42

Anonymous said…

That's ok that the skies aren't the bluest, because it made for a very ominous looking storm coming - Great shot in my opinion!

18 October 2008 at 03:24

Kris McCracken said…

Jackie, there's a bit of drinking that goes on those lawns, and as a consequence, a fair few assaults. We don't really have that many CCTV cameras around Hobart, although their numbers are growing!

Priyanka, I agree with all of that. The more you look, the more you realise how many assumptions truly are universal.

Ms. Hays, I have another good one that I will get around to posting tomorrow!

20 October 2008 at 14:04

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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