We live in a society exquisitely dependent on science and technology, in which hardly anyone knows anything about science and technology.

Another day, another year, ANOTHER pre-post. I have even had to resort to posting one of Jennifer's photographs!

Here you can see the lads sharing a bowl of grapes. Well, actually, they are playing poker with grapes as the pot. The problem with these two is that Henry favours a straight game of seven card stud, whereas Ezra prefers a variation of Oxford stud with a complex mix of a kill game and wild cards. Consequently, I have had to implement a rule in which their guns (Christmas presents) are not allowed on their person while a game is underway.

It really is like Deadwood in these parts of late.

Onto technical matters, I can assure you that if the computer is not yet fixed, and the computer robot dude is still posting this, my New Year's resolution will involve fixing it. I do hope to have found the Windows XP disks that Henry has stashed away somewhere by that time.

If not, I fear that the rss feeds will now be at two thousand, and I expect to be at least twelve hours behind the latest EPIC FAIL shark LOL that has hit the global village.

I really hate being behind the times in terms of EPIC FAIL shark LOLs. It makes me feel like less of a person.

Comments

Ann said…

Happy Near Year to you and yours, Kris. I don't comment often but enjoy reading your blog when I can.

1 January 2009 at 12:36

Neva said…

What lovely children......very nice.

2 January 2009 at 08:55

Kitty said…

ha, these kids will have nothing but fond memories to look back on.

happy 2009!

2 January 2009 at 15:54

USelaine said…

I know nothing of such sharks, and fear them ever approaching my threshold. Do they eat iMacs?

2 January 2009 at 16:15

Kris McCracken said…

Ann, great to hear!

Neva, the are OK.

Kitty, I dunno, anger and resentment at their public humiliation?

Elaine, the eat PCs as a rule.

5 January 2009 at 12:15

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...

Hold me now, oh hold me now, until this hour has gone around. And I'm gone on the rising tide, to face Van Dieman's Land

Theme Thursday again, and this one is rather easy. I am Tasmanian, you see, and aside from being all around general geniuses - as I have amply described previously - we are also very familiar with the concept of WATER. Tasmania is the ONLY island state of an ISLAND continent. That means, we're surrounded by WATER. That should help explain why I take so many photographs of water . Tasmania was for a long time the place where the British (an island race terrified of water) sent their poor people most vile and horrid criminals. The sort of folk who would face the stark choice of a death sentence , or transportation to the other end of the world. Their catalogue of crimes is horrifying : stealing bread assault stealing gentlemen's handkerchiefs drunken assault being poor affray ladies being overly friendly with gentlemen for money hitting people having a drink and a laugh public drunkenness being Irish Fenian terrorist activities being Catholic religious subversion. ...

This will hurt me...

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