Dialectic thought is an attempt to break through the coercion of logic by its own means.

If you haven't already guessed, I'm a sucker for photographs featuring odd angles, and am forever drawn to boats. So when I managed to fuse the two in a harmonious rhapsody, I am a happy fellow indeed. So today I present to you a rat's eye view of the fine brigantine, Windeward Bound.

I was intrigued to find some raised eyebrows the other day when I expressed disdain for the work of one K. Hepburn. I’ve always found her a dull and interminable actor, forever locked into playing the same feisty, offbeat scallywag. Now, I appreciate her bucking the norm, but a combination of red hair and that frankly grating toff accent firmly puts her in my “can’t stand” pile, and they fact that such an elitist shrew acts as some kind of cynosure for “strong women” displeases me.

In honour of Dame Katherine, I wish to begin a Katie Hepburn Dishonour Role of sacred cows. Some time ago, I entered into the dangerous territory of naming and shaming people or creative endeavours that annoy me, so they can join in to the inaugural class!

Katherine Hepburn

Dr Suess

Ian Curtis

The Dalai Lama

Robert De Niro

Radiohead (since 1998)

To this esteemed company – and to bring the intake into a far neater TEN – I wish to add:

Bill Hicks: if I wanted to hear crude and simplistic rants about politics, I’d just go back and work with undergrads again. Seriously, if the dude hadn’t died no one would give him a second thought. He’s like the Joe Strummer of comedy.

Frank Zappa: it’s experimental is it? That doesn’t make it right...

The Shawshank Redemption: number one film on IMDB? Really?!? How? Triumph of the human spirit? Overlong, dour, pompous example of agonizingly contrived and cloying twaddle morelike!

The Clash: where does one start with The Clash? Toffs hating toffs? Tick. Lionising mindless action over thought? Tick. Mediocre chords that seem pedestrian when compared to anything not prog-rock related? Tick. A couple of decent tracks amidst a long list of crap albums? Tick. Let’s face it, The Clash are lyrically superficial, musically ugly, and frankly, little more than embarrassing poseurs slumming it (and not very convincingly, I might add). The Clash are the Bill Hicks of Rock ‘n Roll.

THAT should set the cat amongst the pigeons!

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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