Keep cool: it will be all one a hundred years hence.

I am not sure that I knew what I'd find looking up this tree. We don't have squirrels or chipmunks here in Australia. There aren't any koalas in Tasmania. A possum would be in bed by now (and probably pee in you face anyway), and there aren't a lot of leaves about at the moment. Maybe I knew that I'd see the sky.

How long do you think that it takes for someone who proposes to talk about thinking about talking about thinking about something to generate a sufficient vacuum of inanity to literally - and of course I mean that in a figurative sense - suck their own head into their own backside?

The other day I saw a fellow do this, and it took approximately seven seconds.

Comments

Priyanka Khot said…

I like the quote and the photo. Got lost somewhere in "to talk about thinking about talking about thinking about something to generate a sufficient vacuum of inanity to literally"... a colleague of mine was saying something and I was pretending to listen to her.

11 August 2009 at 15:42

Unknown said…

Fantastic perspective!

12 August 2009 at 00:25

Roddy said…

I agree, with some people it happens spontaneously. These people are so full of themselves that they are literally inside out. Just a personal observation.

12 August 2009 at 10:29

Kris McCracken said…

Priyanka, that's Ralph Waldo Emerson, always a great source for a quote!

13 August 2009 at 09:52

Kris McCracken said…

JM, I liked this one myself too!

13 August 2009 at 09:52

Kris McCracken said…

Roddy, bloody idiots, people...

13 August 2009 at 09:52

Roddy said…

Only when they are smart enough!

13 August 2009 at 11:16

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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