No society can surely be flourishing and happy, of which the far greater part of the members are poor and miserable.

The tigers of Richmond. ZooDoo, April 2010.

There are a couple of Bengal Tigers to be found at ZooDoo in Richmond. Fortunately, these are fine and healthy specimens, more than capable of tearing your head off and using it as a play toy. Unlike some other Richmond Tigers that come to mind...

On that, is this the worst Richmond side ever? I mean, the great teams of 1987-89 were atrocious, but were they THIS bad? Does the absence of Richo mean that the dross running out (and coaching) in 2004 would trounce today's toothless Tigers? Would the likes of Brian Leys, Mick "Don't kick it!" Laffey, Chris "Remember him" Pym, Richard "The Pres" Nixon, Des "Socks down" Ryan, and Mark "Useless" Eustice get a run in the current line up?

Comments

Roddy said…

If I had one, how long do you think it would be before he tired of being treated as a pussy and ripped my head off?

26 April 2010 at 12:30

Priyanka Khot said…

Looks majestic!

26 April 2010 at 14:39

Linda Bob Grifins Korbetis Hall said…

http://itistimetothinkformyself.blogspot.com/2010/04/awards-are-given-to-jingle-by-kathy.html

visit me for awards,
Happy Tuesday!

28 April 2010 at 10:14

Tony said…

My wife & I went to Zoodoo last year. Really enjoyed the visit. Great Tiger photos, they were all asleep when we went there & couldn't get any decent photos of them up & about

29 April 2010 at 13:48

Kris McCracken said…

Insert Imran Kahn joke here. Thanks all, I like these photos.

30 April 2010 at 19:12

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...

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. ...

This will hurt me...

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