Censorship reflects a society's lack of confidence in itself.

Blue sky. Blue-green water. Healthy seaweed. It can only be Seven Mile Beach in Spring.

Of course, this isn't today. Today it's grey and raining. This is a weekday a couple of weeks' back.

Time for the Sunday Top Five!

In the wake of top international ~~statesman~~ imbicile Hugo 'Boca Grande' Chavez's recent attempt to rehabilitate misunderstood altruists Robert Mugabe, Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, and the dearly departed Idi Amin, I nominate five others that the Latin American ~~strongman~~ moron might turn to next:

5) Yoko Ono: "The fascist, imperialist and capitalistic dogs of the West could not stand an invader from the East..."

4) Pol Pot: "Pol suffered for being little more than a cheeky chappy with a big dream from a developing country..."

3) Gary Glitter: "The Fascist, imperialist, immoral Western pigs hate Gary because of his close links with the Third World..."

2) Adolf Hitler: a challenge, I know. How about "a great patriot who only wanted the best for his people but was stifled by the imperialist U.S. pigs..."? This will take something special.

1) George W. Bush: Nah. This is a bridge too far for even dear Hugo...

Comments

Roddy said…

Garry Glitter? Do you think the little kiddies could forgive?
Adolf Hitler? As I have always said, Adolf was a little misunderstood. He also tended to take things just that little too far. His ideas, however had merit.
George H. perhaps?

22 November 2009 at 22:04

Kris McCracken said…

Poor Gary...

24 November 2009 at 14:16

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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