There's naught, no doubt, so much the spirit calms as rum and true religion.

Waiting at the bus stop for the final bus journey home. Campbell Street, Hobart. August 2010.

Now for part three thousand and seven in our special feature...

71. WHAT’S YOUR FAVOURITE ICE CREAM FLAVOUR?
Choc mint. I like a nice banana made with real bananas too.

72. ARE YOU LAZY?
Sometimes I think that I am, and then I see other people…

73. WHAT ARE YOUR FAVOURITE COLOURS?
Blue, cobalt and navy.

74. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE BAND?
I can’t pick just one. One of The Byrds, Grant Lee Buffalo, The Rolling Stones, Belle & Sebastian, The Smiths, Wilco, Marah, Pavement, Led Zeppelin, or maybe Pulp. Or someone else.

75. HOW MANY WISDOM TEETH DO YOU HAVE?
I have two left, the top two.

76. DO YOU WANT EVERYONE TO ANSWER THESE QUESTIONS?
Not if they don’t want to.

77. WHAT ARE YOU LISTENING TO RIGHT NOW?
Tell ‘em Steve Dave.

78. LAST THING YOU ATE?
Kim-chi Bo-kum-bop.

79. LAST PERSON YOU TALKED TO ON THE PHONE?
I believe that it was the Clinical Director of the Tasmanian Alcohol and Drug Services.

80. WHAT'S THE FIRST THING YOU NOTICE ON THE OPPOSITE SEX?
It depends on what they’ve got going for (or against) them. There’s not one single thing.

Comments

Jim said…

Great streetscape. Great sky.

23 August 2010 at 12:01

Kris McCracken said…

Winter serves the odd one up!

23 August 2010 at 18:49

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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