It's not enough that we do our best; sometimes we have to do what's required.

Straight lines are the order of the day today. Here are Hydro Tasmania building, old and new, presented to you in stunning black and white.

In order to bail me out of having to think too hard about today’s post, I’ve embraced the meme and take up the challenge presented to me by Lizabee & Co!

It’s a well known fact that I simply reek of awesomeness. Like Old testament God, people quake and tremble in wonderment at my feet on a daily basis. At least, I think that’s why they quake and tremble at my feet. It could be something to do with Swine Flu.

First though, a definition:

Awesome
Adjective
Causing awe or terror; inspiring wonder or excitement. So impressive or overwhelming as to inspire a strong feeling of admiration or fear.

And now, the list!

Seven things that make ME awesome

Charm: like George Clooney on charisma steroids, I have charm oozing from every pore.

Intelligence: in terms of intelligence, it’s best to think of me as HAL from 2001, only with higher self esteem and less psychopathic tendencies

Looks: dude, have you seen me?

Grace: imagine the offspring of Audrey Hepburn when mated with a gazelle (work with me here), that’s how I glide across a ballroom to the swoon of all in attendance.

Cool: you know Michael Holding’s voice and Viv Richard’s swagger? Where do you think they learned that then?

Character: honesty, respect, integrity, and fairness. I once shot a man for insulting my Mother’s chicken, that is how much I value honour.

Modesty: only the most modest of men could possibly compile this list with such honesty, integrity and (not least of all) modesty.

So there we have it, the secret to my success!

If you also are assured of your own awesomeness, please feel free to take the challenge and explain it to the world.

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. ...

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...

This will hurt me...

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