Skip to main content

There are only two tragedies in life: one is not getting what one wants, and the other is getting it.


This photograph was taken down in Sullivans Cove last Thursday. It was a nice day last Thursday. This morning, I sit in front of the computer screen drenched to the bone, as the rain has returned with some vengeance.

As usual, I blame the Welsh.

I had an interesting experience on my way to work on the bus this morning. There I was, reading a book by a Ukrainian who writes in Russian (I'm reading an English translation), when on the radio played the 70s hit Radar Love by Dutch rockers Golden Earring singing in what can only be described as the most authentic American growl this side of the East Prussian belter of the Canadian beat combo, Steppenwolf.

Globalisation is a wonderful thing.
Labels:

Comments

Megan said…
I didn't know we could blame the Welsh. I'm starting, as from now.
3 November 2009 at 11:23
Roddy said…
Seems you may have sent some of those sodden clouds North. We have had a bit of rain. Eighteen mils. last night.
You can't blame the Welsh for much. Except maybe for the Leeks (leaks).
3 November 2009 at 14:57
Tash said…
Look at those clouds & the color of water! If that's a prelude to rain, it's worth it.
3 November 2009 at 17:33
Tash said…
PS - how about The Namesake for your next book...expand the globalization.
3 November 2009 at 17:36
Babzy.B said…
Wow, stunning sky !
3 November 2009 at 20:39
Hallam said…
to the bone?
3 November 2009 at 21:48
Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Mad as hell

So there I was, arm hooked up to the machine, watching my plasma swirl away into a bag while the morning news dribbled across the screen like a bad fever dream. And what were they showing? A "riot" in Melbourne, allegedly. The sort of riot where the real thugs wear body armour, carry pepper spray and look like they just walked off the set of RoboCop. The people they were beating? A ragtag crew of teenagers and old hippies—probably fresh out of a drum circle, still smelling of patchouli. But sure, let's call it a riot. Now, here's where it really gets good. I mentioned this spectacle to a few people later, thinking maybe they'd share my outrage or, at the very least, give a damn. But no. What did I get instead? A smirk, a chuckle, and—oh, the pièce de résistance—"You should really just let it go." Let it go? Yeah, let me uncork a nice, overpriced cup of coffee, sit back with my legs crossed, and soak in the latest reality TV trash. Why bother caring when ...
Post a Comment
Read more

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. ...
62 comments
Read more

Something unpleasant is coming when men are anxious to tell the truth.

This is the moon. Have I mentioned how much I adore the zoom on my camera? It's Theme Thursday you see, and after last week's limp effort, I have been thinking about how I might redeem myself. Then I clicked on the topic and discover that it was BUTTON. We've been hearing a lot about the moon in the past couple of weeks. Apparently some fellas went up there and played golf and what-not forty-odd years ago. The desire to get to the moon, however, was not simply about enhancing opportunities for Meg and Mog titles and skirting local planning by-laws in the construction of new and innovative golf courses. No, all of your Sputniks , "One small steps" and freeze dried ice cream was about one thing , and one thing only : MAD Now, I don't mean mad in terms of "bloke breaks record for number of scorpions he can get up his bum", no I mean MAD as in Mutual assured destruction . When I was a young man you see, there was a lot of talk about the type of m...
50 comments
Read more