This will hurt me...

Saturday morning in Hobart and where else is there to be? All roads lead to Salamanca Market! I've also included a pic of (some) of the goodies that we scored. Presented by the lovely Henry doing his best Delvine Delany impression, you can see a tub of blueberries (nearly gone by the time that I posted this), brussel sprouts, beans, leeks (eaten), spring onions, gruyere cheese (half gone) and four pairs of pears (a couple already devoured). The Pears are of the illustrious (and organic) Steenholdt farm. I have it on good authority and without any hyperbole that Steenholdt pears are the greatest pears to have ever been graced the planet Earth . Unfortunately for the photograph, the five olliebollens that we also purchased did not survive the trip home. We shall say a prayer tonight for them.

Today I've found an interesting ad for US Savings Bonds from 1952. Essentially, They have decided that the best way to promote the bonds is by drawing up a map of Communist Party members in each State. One assumes the thinking was that the terror provoked by the knowledge of five fifth columnists in Alaska potentially getting up to no good would be enough to scare the housewives out of a few dollars to stump up for another H-Bomb! This is one of my all time favourite ads, as it reveals a certain mindset (paranoia) at a time when the Cold War (still in its infancy) threatened to turn hot. I'm sure that the Bonds people saw this as a public service announcement of sorts, kind of like mapping of the outbreak of some horrible disease. Maybe the implication implicit here is that Bobby Joe down in Kansas better start rooting out the seditious six! When I look at this map though, there is one thing that I can't help but ponder. I wonder about that lonely Red down there in Mississ

I've felt a bit guilty that generally I've only shown 'pleasant' images thus far, so sought out a bit of 'urban grit'. But rather than photograph the word 'dick' that was written on our fence by some young scamps (I'm saving that one), I've decided to go with something a little more creative. This one was taken on Wednesday afternoon in Criterion Street. It looks like the person that painted it has at least tried, and that's always worth something!

And you know what this means ladies... If the house isn't clean, the drains aren't running smooth and you haven't attended issues related to your charm and health , your husband probably thinks that you're ugly!

Here are some trees across the road from us. My guess would be some sort of eucalyptus, but that's pretty much exhausted my knowledge of the eucalypt family! This one was taken yesterday morning on the way to the bus stop, with the sun very low just peeping over the hills that lay behind our house giving off a very warm morning light.

Today's post is in response to a (potentially) tricky question that the Political Umpire threw me in the comments section of yesterday's photo. The Ump was after my view on a story that has had national focus here in Australia over the past few days, titled: " No room for gay developer in Penguin's property parade " There are two parts to this question that in my mind should easily be separated. However, it is worth noting that anti-development sensibilities and homophobic tendencies both have a lengthy history in Tasmania. On the question of development on the North West Coast, I am broadly supportive. Anyone willing to invest (potentially) millions of dollars that stands to create new jobs, attract new people, and help offer viable pathways for residents is welcome in my book. Context (as ever), is vital. When I left the coast in early 1996, spirits could not have been much lower. Global economic circumstances and the subsequent shift away from heavy industry

If – like me – you are tired of having to answer inconsequential and time-consuming questions, here is a website that you can now direct people to . [Small gesture of thanks in the direction of clusterflock .]

One the way to work this morning, the fine Autumn weather led me to the waterfront yet again. With the shift back from daylight saving time, the morning light today was tremendous, and ensured a halfway decent photograph whatever I chose to point the camera at. So down at the waterfront I could look past the bright red of Captain Fell's Historic Ferry . These guys do tours up and down the river, out into the harbour and a regular commute from the city to Bellerive. I think maybe one day soon, Henry and I are going to go out on a cruise and see if we can't find a few penguins or baby seals to shoot!* [*Note: with a camera.]

This is the three hundredth post to the blog known as ‘ This will hurt me... ’, and what a post it will be! Actually, it is a quick link to promote The Swinging Arm , Australia's leading antidisestablishmentarianist rugby league periodical, which also happens to be the official journal of the Rugby League Institute of Technology. Now, I have to admit that I am not a huge fan of ‘the game played in hell’™. However, I am a big fan of anything associated with the fine work of the boy from Broken Hill, the sin-city residing former Reverend turned roving rugby reporter Barry "Scoop" Freelove. Anyone with any doubt as to Barry’s passion and eloquence on the beautiful game need look no further than his communiqué this week, titled Rugby League's Greatest Shame .

I took today's photo this afternoon as I was walking from work into the city. I was pretty much snapping away at anything and figured that something would turn out halfway decent. This is generally my approach, and a damn sight easier with digital than when you had to develop the film, and then get into a darkroom fiddling about for hours on end. Great fun at times, for sure, but time consuming and expensive! The older bloke on the left doesn't look too sure about something. I'm not too sure whether it was me taking his photo, or his chances of beating the traffic behind him. I don't know why he's so worried though, he's in pole position!

While we wait on the outcome of the Zimbabwe elections – a topic upon which I've mused of late – I was drawn to an interesting little factbox on the Reuters internets the other day that puts some of the current issues faced by Zimbabweans in a little perspective. The full list is more comprehensive, but the things that jumped out to me included: Average life expectancy dropped from 63 in 1990, to 37 in 2005. Zimbabwe's mortality rate for children under five was 76 deaths out of every 1,000 in 1990, and increased to 105 in 2006. The World Food Program estimates that 45 percent of the population are malnourished. The price of a loaf of bread two weeks ago was about ZMD$6.6 million on the official market, and around ZMD$15 million on the black market. This compares to October of last year, where a loaf went for ZMD$100,000 , in 2003 ZMD$1,000 and in 1998 ZMD$5 . One might guess that sandwiches are presently off the menu in Harare!

It is a well-known fact that marriage breakdowns are inevitably traced back to problems around communication. A less recognised (but just as significant) factor is addressed by today's advertisement. Blocked drains . One thing that a man cannot stand from his wife is ignorance in the area of adequate drainage . So please, ladies, go out and check your drains today. It may not be too late!

With a nod (and a wink) to the Defamer website, I was both pleased and intrigued to see Hollywood heartthrob Nic Cage posing with a long dead Tasmanian tiger in The Age yesterday . [Aside: All right, I know that Nic Cage looks like some random homeless guy, but I have yet to trot out the 'Hollywood heartthrob' tag on this blog yet, and this seemed the ample opportunity!] So right, back to Nic and the thylacine. Apparently, the star "requested his photo be taken in front of the Tasmanian tiger". The film that he's promoting doesn't seem to have anything to do with extinct animals, he just appeared to take a fancy to it. I personally like the absolute gravity and solemnity in Cage's facial expression and posture. This is amplified by the facial expression on the stuffed marsupial. Seriously, it looks like one of those idiots that pop up on TV every now and then behind a weatherman or sports reporter with a "wait a sec, is that camera? Hey, I'm on

As promised yesterday, today I'm presenting a series of photos taken on the Henry Fitzgerald McCracken Football and Cricket Arena (HFMFCA). It features a young man in his formative years stepping out on the hallowed turf for a bit of training before his inevitable ascension to the big league. Buoyed by his beloved Bombers' return to form in their crushing of the Carlton Football Club, Henry took to the arena with a renewed sense of vigour and the intensity of ten Bengal tigers! However, the first shot that I've chosen is not one of action, but one of introspection. In many ways, elite athletes are no different from elite philosophers. Just prior to this shot, Henry and I were discussing Kant's notion of the categorical imperative and it's relation to the banana kick from the boundary line. Henry gazed off into the distance, reflecting on the shadow cast by the goal posts at the western end of the ground and confirmed that Camus was indeed close to the mark in his o

Just a brief post first up today. I was pleased to read in the New York Times about the latest sport that the NY State Education board have launched its latest league sport. Yes, New York is now the first public school system in the United States to offer competitive cricket as an option for students! The initial idea to offer cricket as an option anticipated finding enough interest to field four teams, but eventually so many students sign up (over 600) that he was able to form fourteen squads, with several new teams expected to join next year. It's great to hear that so many people are keen to have a go at the sport, and who knows, in maybe twenty or thirty years Australia might have a realistic threat to their crown! As always, it's always a decent read when Americans are talking aboout cricket.

We are lucky enough to live in an area with plenty to do very close by. The boat ramp that I photgraphed yesterday is operated by the Geilston Bay Boat Club and is within sight and just two minutes walk away. Right next door to that is the world famous (well it is now) Geilston Bay Tennis Club . There is also a High School opposite us (with cricket nets and open grounds), a little park for skaters and this big dip jumpy thing (the technical name for it, of course) for BMX riding. However, the pride of Geilston Bay is the wonderfully tendored home ground of the Old Hobartians Association Football Club . I don't think that their home ground has a name, so for the moment I've been calling it the "Henry Fitzgerald McCracken Football and Cricket Arena". It's a bit of a mouthful I know, but it does suit it well. If you study today's photo, you can see the magnificent playing surface and giant stadium seating. Tomorrow's daily photo will give everyone a closer

Today’s topic, boys and girls, is a deadly serious one. There is no easy or polite way to introduce it, aside from offering a caution for the faint hearted. So here is your warning: if you are easily offended or already aware of the dangers of indulging in a little self-love, please look away now, normal service will resume after the post. Now that the prudes have all left the room, here is an extract (allegedly) from the French text Le livre sans titre (‘The book with no title’), published in 1844.The title of the panel of pictures is “The Fatal Consequences of Masturbation”, and will no doubt send shudders of fear rippling through people (young and old) the world over. Teenage boys in particular should take note of the cautionary tale. Now, a bit of research has left me uncertain as to the veracity of the extract. Those in the know seem to think that the language (French) does seem genuine to the time, but whether or not the images and text have not been doctored, I’m uncertain. It