The cleverest of all, in my opinion, is the man who calls himself a fool at least once a month.

This tree is wired for ~~sound~~ light. June 2010.

Today is my first day in a new job. I have - as Max Weber boldly predicted many moons ago - been drawn into the stahlhartes Gehäuse!

Yes, I am to be a Bureaucrat!

While not quite a 'man in Whitehall', I have been drawn into administering the "polar night of icy darkness".

Rational calculation has now reduced me to a cog in the bureaucratic machine. Of course, going into this with the realisation already assured, I will no doubt be seeking to transform myself to a bigger cog.

I hope that there is cake.

Comments

Tom said…

i call myself worse things than a fool, and more often--i must be a bloody genius. luck with the new job, and hope you can be a productive cog, and not the typical one.

12 July 2010 at 09:06

Roddy said…

I thought that you were anti cake. Wonders will never cease.
The journey up town would have seemed joyous to you this morning.
Does the bus drop you at your door, or are you less fortunate?

12 July 2010 at 13:25

smudgeon said…

Prepare for the frustration, empty feeling, apathy, and quiet desperation...

I mean "happiness and excitement that greets an employee of DHHS every day."

Every day.

Hope it works out for you - welcome to the machine.

12 July 2010 at 13:30

Magpie said…

Good luck at the new job...be a rebel every now and again.
At first I thought they had tied the tree down so it wouldn't take flight. :)

12 July 2010 at 14:28

Kris McCracken said…

Thanks all.

Me, it is a considerable improvement on the last time.

16 July 2010 at 11:21

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...

Search This Blog