If a man empties his purse into his head, no one can take it from him.

No, it's not a prune, it's Henry at four days! Here he is all arty farty already, set against a black background pulling his The Thinker pose. He's always been a biggun' hence the bruising around the face incurred on the way out!

By the by, I only just realised that the comic that I posted a couple of posts ago was number 700 for this blog. Happy 700 blog!

Birth is not an emergency. It is simply an emergence.

As we enter the week before Henry turns two years old, I thought that I'd kick of a retrospective of Henry-related pictures. Think of it as a pictorial 'this is your life'. I thought that I'd begin with one of Henry and I on the second day after his birth. We're both a bit buggered, and I still find it odd that the most energetic of all involved in the birth at this point was Jen, who had actually done most of the work. I will claim some credit though, as holding her leg up in the air for a good hour with nary a complaint was not easy.

Managerialism

I've just had one of the less enjoyable weeks of my life.

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.”

Nwanyi umu iri o dighi ihe mere nabali o naghi ama.

Here you can see one of the new type of Hobart parking metre’s that can be found around these parts. Tasmanian’s typically complain at the $1.60 an hour rate, but this is literally 250 metres from the CBD and adjacent to Salamanca. I would imagine that this compares pretty well to the rest of the world.

The proverb is a great one from Nigeria, home of the tremendous Lagos City Photo Blog, where Lolade Adewuyi does a tremendous job giving us a look at a city that – despite its size and importance – is often overlooked by many in the west. Lolade is also a mover and a shaker, as evidenced by his crossing of paths recently with Ghanaian President John Kufuor.

The proverb is a ripper, and translates as: "When a woman has ten children, there is nothing that happens in the night that she does not know about."

I wonder what Jen has to say about that?

Never wrestle with a strong man nor bring a rich man to court.

Stupidly under the pump AGAIN. So some more odd angles from yesterday morning and this morning, and I’ll throw a few scraps your way in the proverb department and pimp some of my favourite photo blogs as well!

Here we have a more typical Geilston Bay power pole from yesterday, think of it as a counterpoint to the precious pole.

The proverb is one from Latvia, home of the excellent Riga Daily Photo. Aigars Bruvelis and Karlis Beinerts do a great job selling Riga to the world, and I don’t just say that because I’ve always had a thing for the Baltic!

You already possess everything necessary to become great.

Here we have another Geilston Bay powerline taken this morning, coupled with a lovely Crow proverb that I like a lot. This photo is one of my favourites from today, but that may be because I am a fan of the colour blue.

We will be known forever by the tracks we leave.

Continuing the Native American proverb and odd angle mash up, I've picked a Lakota proverb that I like very much. Here I was crouched down in the gutter this morning trying out another angle. I'm not sure what that woman thought I was doing, but I am glad that she wasn't wearing a skirt, lest she file charges!

We do not inherit the earth from our ancestors, we borrow it from our children.

The title though is an old Navajo proverb, and decided to give it you the translation rather than the original. Now I’m under the pump today (again), so no time for witty banter and what-not, but I did manage to take a whole bunch of photographs to share. As is my wont, I’ve endeavoured to mix things up angle-wise, and am keen to hear what you think.

Don’t be shy in the comments, even if it’s nothing more than thumbs up or down!

The people who live in a Golden Age usually go around complaining how yellow everything looks.

It's been a very long day and I am awfully tired. Henry's asleep. Ezra's asleep. I figure that the best that I can offer you is this picture of a building and this wonderfully bleak poem that I have liked for years and years and years.

Death of a ball turret gunner
Randall Jarrell

From my mother's sleep I fell into the State,
And I hunched in its belly till my wet fur froze.
Six miles from earth, loosed from the dream of life,
I woke to black flak and the nightmare fighters.
When I died they washed me out of the turret with a hose.

A good day?

Busy day, can’t hang about!

As a body everyone is single, as a soul never.

A little Hermann Hesse to go with this photo from Sunday morning. I like how Ezra looks more confident than Henry here, he obviously knows something that I don't.

Of that, I am not surprised!

The best way to have a good idea is to have a lot of ideas.

A grey old day in Hobart today, but it is anything but grey in my heart! I thought after yesterday’s tale of poor parenting and the outrage that it prompted, I’d best switch on the positive vibe and look on the bright side of life. In order to do that, I felt it appropriate to post some lovely blossoms that I photographed right next to the bus stop this morning

Congratulations are in order for Paul Krugman, on his receipt of the Nobel Prize for Economics. Krugman will be a familiar name to many – even those not interested in the dismal science, but I will forever remember him for helping convince me of the positives that can emerge from the on the liberalisation of trade, and more generally to the multiplicity of impacts related to the globalisation of capital. His work on Mexico and the Philippines in the mid-1990s, in particular, helped me broaden my outlook considerably and helped lead to the reconstruction of a lad who at that point was a wholly unreconstructed social democrat, and for that, I owe a debt to the man.

More recently, Krugman has been surprisingly vocal on political issues, and (for mine) has one of the keenest minds on the interaction between the market, politics and public policy. A neo-Keynesian (of a fashion), he tipped both ENRON and the housing bubble well in advance. He’s also known for routinely having a read hot go at some of the poor choices of the present Bush administration. That said, I generally find him someone who tries to stress the positives. For that, he should also be congratulated.

He is also – unusual for an economist – eminently readable. If I were to recommend one work, I really couldn’t look past Peddling Prosperity: Economic Sense and Nonsense in an Age of Diminished Expectation, one of the best-written books on economics ever. I shall give any interested parties a link to his blog for you to explore at your leisure (and so I can cease prattling on about something as dreary as economics.

Don't worry people, I plan to post a photo of Henry and Ezra to cleanse you all later this evening.

Ads That I Like: #63

I would advise all of my dear readers to take the take, click on today's advertisment, and have a good hard think about what it says.

All of this time I had thought that it was the average fighting Joes who won the Second World War. Hardcore Marines storming beaches, heroic air crews dropping bombs surrounded by flak, the oft-overlooked merchant seaman chugging away on ships dodging treacherous seas (and even deadlier) submarines the whole time simply to get life’s pure essentials (which, apparently, did not include bananas but plenty of bombs) from point A to point A.

Naively – damn fool that I am – I thought that it was the fearless Soviet troops thrusting towards Berlin, the countless riveting Rosies pumping away day and night in factories, the old dears knitting socks for the care packages for the valiant lads wasting away in Colditz, and the kids who dreamed of nothing more than bayoneting some heartless Fritz or Jap until his last twitch ceased.

Hell, I thought that it might even be the Manhattan Mob, those brains on legs out sweating out there in New Mexico building a ruddy great bomb to blow the whole World sky high and stop all the killing!

But no, upon reflection, I think that the good folks down there at the Interchemical Corporation might be right! It wasn’t all of those petty and mundane people that I’ve listed above, the answer is far more simple:

MOANING WOMEN

That’s right: vain, vacuous, gluttonous, self-centred and lazy women!

Now, if we could just harness this instinct for consumption to sort out this current strife in global banking...

Hey, teachers! leave them kids alone!

I like walls. Here is a brick wall. I liked the colour and texture, so I took this photograph. But you know what? I don’t want to talk about that today; I want to talk about something far more wonderful.

Occasionally life affords us brief moments that remind us what a joy it is to be alive. It may be little more than the plainness of a budding flower, a particularly striking sunrise or a handsome woman heaving a load of washing upon her breast in Békéscsaba. It could even be a pock-marked red brick wall on your way to work! Or, it may be something far more important, like witnessing the birth of your first child or seeing a valiant three-legged dog risking its life saving a burning baby from a flooded building.

This morning, I was fortunate enough to observe one such beautiful scene.

Standing in line at the food market this morning with my tub of Tamar Valley Tasmanian Premium All Natural Creamy Honey Yogurt (500 grams for just $2.99!), I was behind a mother and her young daughter. I would guess this child’s age at perhaps seven – at a maximum I will allow for nine – but I will be honest with you, once a kiddie moves beyond the 65 kilogram mark (143 lb for those hamstrung by decidedly inferior systems of weights and measures), I struggle to pick ages. If they are tremendously obese, I struggle to pick them as human at all! Reaching for a point of comparison that may mean something to people, this little angel looked like Cartman when he let himself go in that ‘beefcake’ episode all those years ago.

Nonetheless, I’m standing behind these two, and the little one (HA!) pipes up and informs mother that she hasn’t had any breakfast today (I myself was sceptical of this). Mother relents and says to the little one that she should choose something for the breakfast, and that she can consume it in the car. So the little one waddles off to find something deliciously wholesome (the establishment we were in has a wide selection of bagels, rolls, salad, plenty of fruit and veg, the typical deli fare). Of course, I am delighted that I have the opportunity to wait while she decides. Eventually, she heaves herself back to the counter – wheezing no less, the fifteen metre hike proving too much I fear – having chosen two Magical Elves (think Bertie Beetle on an acid trip) and a large can of Red Bull, an excellent start for the day. Sagely though, Mother spots something untoward about this selection, and asks with some menace, “is that all you're having?” Wisely, she shakes her head and throws in another Magical Elf for good measure. Just the trick!

Jennifer, looks like you have some stiff competition for this round of Mother of the Year!

There is a logic that I cannot see

This will indeed hurt me...

When you win the toss – bat. If you are in doubt, think about it, then bat. If you have very big doubts, consult a colleague – then bat.

It's springtime in Tasmania and that means football season is over (with Henry triumphant in our tipping competition, beating me out by a solitary point) and the air is filled with the sound of leather on willow, and the gentle sounds of one team attempting to mentally disintegrate the babyfaced opening batsman debuting for the opposition.

Ahhh, the glorious contrasts of cricket! At once full of a confident history of gentleman and sportsmanship, yet a very same history full of hatred, violence, greed and corruption!

Ahhh cricket, this is why we love you so.

Getting into the spirit of the game, Henry spent a bit of time after playgroup chipping in his thoughts. He chastised the fat bloke at silly mid on because he was fat and his creams were whites and congratulated the deep backward square for his innovative incorporation of Alicia Keys lyrics into his sledging routine.

It's the beauty of cricket you see, often it's what happens when nothing is happening that really entertains. Think of lunch times in the schoolyard, the politics of the workplace or the anarchical society that can be found in international relations; each has nothing of the depth and mettle that cricket demands (at least in its pure form, the long stuff).

For the fan club...

So here is what the world has been waiting for, Henry and Ezra in another feature film. It's been some time since I've posted a video, primarily because of Henry's tendency to act the diva on set. We're talking about demands to catering for peeled grapes of at least eight varieties, abusing the best boy and assaulting the key grip, that kind of thing.

Yesterday morning however, in the interest of keeping the global appreciation society, he agreed to partake in this brief shoot with his baby brother.

Now don’t forget that the boundary-pushing antics as both (or Henry alone) that has been featured in numerous other videos, including:

• Nudity, in Ezra’s first ever bath!
  
• Romance, as Henry and Ezra first meet!
• Public interest, as Henry appears on WIN News!
• Slapstick, in Henry falls over, again and again!
• Adventure, as Henry confronts the Campbell Town slide!
• Horror, as we experience the terror of extreme hugs!
• Saucy, as Henry does his best Marilyn Monroe!
• Music in the raw, as Henry whips out the blues harp!
• Excitement, as Henry cuts a rug!
• Technical ability, as Henry finally WALKS unaided!
• Party time, Henry celebrates his first birthday in style!
• Drama, on the day that Henry finally learned to crawl FORWARDS!
• Triumph of the will, as Henry stands up!
• Intelligence, as Henry speaks!
• Bravery, as Henry sits up!
• Class, Henry can roll!
• Humour, as Henry laughs so hard that he vomits!