Skip to main content

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.
Neva said…
What lovely children......very nice.
Kitty said…
ha, these kids will have nothing but fond memories to look back on.

happy 2009!
USelaine said…
I know nothing of such sharks, and fear them ever approaching my threshold. Do they eat iMacs?
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.

Popular posts from this blog

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. ...

Something unpleasant is coming when men are anxious to tell the truth.

This is the moon. Have I mentioned how much I adore the zoom on my camera? It's Theme Thursday you see, and after last week's limp effort, I have been thinking about how I might redeem myself. Then I clicked on the topic and discover that it was BUTTON. We've been hearing a lot about the moon in the past couple of weeks. Apparently some fellas went up there and played golf and what-not forty-odd years ago. The desire to get to the moon, however, was not simply about enhancing opportunities for Meg and Mog titles and skirting local planning by-laws in the construction of new and innovative golf courses. No, all of your Sputniks , "One small steps" and freeze dried ice cream was about one thing , and one thing only : MAD Now, I don't mean mad in terms of "bloke breaks record for number of scorpions he can get up his bum", no I mean MAD as in Mutual assured destruction . When I was a young man you see, there was a lot of talk about the type of m...

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...