All I say cancels out, I’ll have said nothing.

Here is the view of Mount Wellington looking west from Hunter Street, across the fish punts and ~~overpriced~~ ~~over-rated~~ boutique fish and chip joints that can be found down along the waterfront...

Hang on...

Hang on...

I've just got to interupt today's post to cross to my LA correspondent who is waiting outside Michael Jackson's Neverland ~~compound~~ ranch.

Me in Hobart: "Dave, Dave can you hear me?"

Dave in LA: [Silence as Dave scratches his nose and looks bored]

Me in Hobart: "Dave, are you with me now?"

Dave in LA: "Yes Kris. The media have thronged to Michael Jackson's Neverland Ranch here 200 miles out of LA."

Me in Hobart: "So Dave, do you have an update for us?"

Dave in LA: "Well, there is a lot of people about. And a lot of media vans."

Me in Hobart: "Can you confirm that former king of pop, Michael Jackson - responsible for such hits as Thriller, Bad and Say, Say, Say - remains dead?"

Dave in LA: "The Californian authorities are able to confirm that yes, one week after Michael Jackson died, Michael Jackson remains dead."

Me in Hobart: "Dave, do you have anything else new to report?"

Dave in LA: "Kris, as you can see from the pictures, the media are thronging to Neverland Ranch. So are many ~~sad loons~~ keen fans."

Me in Hobart: "Thank you Dave. Please keep us updated with all the vital breaking news."

Now, where was I?

Oh, Hobart. It's still cold. It's still raining. I'm still sick.

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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