Egotism is the anaesthetic that dulls the pains of stupidity.

Art in action. April 2010.

In a rush, here's part one of a meme...

1. What's your favourite Dr. Seuss book?
I loathe Dr. Seuss. I mean, really, he just makes words up and yet still can't work out regular metre?

2. If you could live in any home on a television series, what would it be?
Robin's Nest, from Magnum P.I.

3. What's the longest you've gone without sleep? Five or six days. I wasn't really keeping track.

4. What's your favourite Barry Manilow song?
What? I think that the only song of his I know was called Mandy, but I can't recall anything about it. Whether that makes it my favourite, I can only guess...

5. Who's your favourite Muppet?
The now apparently dearly departed Guy Smiley.

6. What's the habit you're proudest of breaking?
I stopped chewing my nails. Then I had children.

7. What's your favourite website?
I don't play favourites, although if you click the link you will find an excellent example of web savvy.

8. What's your favourite school supply?
4B pencils.

9. Who's your favourite TV attorney?
Arnie Becker was my favourite, but I still like the sound of "Victor Sifuentes"

10. What was your most recent trip of more than 50 miles?
50 miles equates to 80 kilometres. I had a meeting in Campbell Town yesterday, so that journey all up was about 288 kms, or about 152 miles. You all know how much I love meetings...

Comments

smudgeon said…

Ah, Campbell Town - the bureaucrats' compromise between "conveniently somewhere between Launceston & Hobart" and "town with decent coffee"...

18 May 2010 at 20:03

Megan said…

I thought about Robin Masters' house for my answer. But Magnum never got to stay in it, so...

19 May 2010 at 13:09

Kris McCracken said…

Me, I'm there every second bloody week at the moment.

Megan, it was a lovely place...

20 May 2010 at 11:14

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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