Skip to main content

The man who never alters his opinion is like standing water, and breeds reptiles of the mind.


Sir John Franklin looks up towards a nest of bureaucrats no doubt readying the flak brigades as a State election looms. Franklin was Governor of Van Diemen's Land from 1836 to 1843. It is rather ironic that he spends his days staring at a building filled with civil servants, as they were the ones who eventually got him sacked for the ludicrous ideas of around incorporating more humane elements through reform in the penal colony.

There's been a lot of talk about Franklin recently, which leads me effortlessly into Theme Thursday, and my advice of treating everything you READ with a critical eye.

For instance, if you READ the inscription beneath Franklin (through the seagull poo), you'll find the fact recorded that he "discovered" the Northwest Passage. This, of course, is nonsense. He did disappear (and die eventually, of course), while attempting to chart and navigate a section of the Northwest Passage. Indeed, the entire crew of the expedition succumbed to starvation, hypothermia, tuberculosis, lead poisoning, scurvy and exposure, which pretty much made the whole trip a bummer for everybody involved.

More recently, one of Tasmania's more annoying renowned know-it-alls "intellectuals" [can does one manage a highfalutin inflection in text?], has written a book that I happen to believe is rather dishonest by judging (and condemning) Franklin against mores and ethical standards utterly removed from the proper context of his intentions and actions. I'm all for talking history and attempting to understand decisions and their contexts, but in this regard, take what your READ with a grain of salt.

Comments

Tom said…
having a reptile in the mind like a frog in the throat?

i thought of this, 'read' but glad you tackled it...thanks for the history lesson.
Brian Miller said…
i really like the title...

nice twist on the theme as well. will watch what i red.
Ms Hen's said…
me too. I'll watch what I red too.
anthonynorth said…
Some great thoughts here.
You'll find mine here.
Roddy said…
I thought that I had missred it. What with all the typos.
What do you think Sir John might think of his Hobart Town today? Do you think that he may be impressed, or a little disappointed?
Anonymous said…
As history is constantly being re-written, it would do to take well more than a grain...more like a bloomin' stone's worth, heh...interesting theme take, Kris...
Tess Kincaid said…
Interesting post. Nice read. :^)
Christine H. said…
Good advice. As a matter of fact...always carry that salt with you.
Jaime said…
red...read...good twist on the theme
Kris McCracken said…
Tom, I will admit that I am guilty of misreading the topic.
Kris McCracken said…
Anthony, good stuff.
Kris McCracken said…
Roddy, you're a troll now?
Kris McCracken said…
Willow, mnogo blagodarya!
Kris McCracken said…
Christine H., not the same Christine H. I hope?
Kris McCracken said…
Jaime, dew re-dallo dheugh-why!
Dreamhaven said…
How about mosquitos of the mind?
Unique twist on this weeks theme.
Kris McCracken said…
Dreamhaven, I will admit that I READ it, without noticing that it was the colour not the verb.

Popular posts from this blog

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.