One does not establish a dictatorship in order to safeguard a revolution; one makes a revolution in order to establish a dictatorship.

I suspect that there was once a door here. Theatre Royal, Hobart. December 2010.

As promised, here is Today's Sunday Top ~~Five~~ Seven, Nine Wonderful Uses For The Marvellous Oil Of The Genus Eucalyptus!

Eucalyptus oil also has anti-inflammatory and analgesic qualities as a topically applied liniment ingredient!

Eucalyptus oil is also used in personal hygiene products for antimicrobial properties in dental care and soaps!

Eucalyptus oil can be applied to wounds to prevent infection!

Eucalyptus oil can also be as an insect repellent and biopesticide!

Eucalyptus oil has been used as an effective way of killing dust mites!

Eucalyptus oil is used in flavouring lollies, sweeties, candies and soft drink!

Eucalyptus oil is also used as a fragrance component to impart a fresh and clean aroma in soaps, detergents, lotions and perfumes!

Eucalyptus oil prevents the separation problem with ethanol and petrol fuel blends!

Eucalyptus oil has a respectable octane rating and can be used as a fuel in its own right!

Comments

smudgeon said…

I'm more of a tea tree oil man myself, but i do enjoy eucalyptus' flexibility.

5 December 2010 at 13:33

Roddy said…

Could this be the doorway that leads to the stairway to heaven?
Or just an emergency exit that wasn't needed.
Eucalyptus throat lollies are one of my favourites.

5 December 2010 at 19:07

Gemma Wiseman aka Pamela Adams said…

Eucalyptus oil is a brilliant relief for cloggy noses!

Napoleon followed a revolution and Hitler was a revolution!

5 December 2010 at 21:44

Kris McCracken said…

Me, I have time for tea tree too...

Roddy, not sure.

GT, dirty rotten Hitler!

9 December 2010 at 10:44

Something unpleasant is coming when men are anxious to tell the truth.

This is the moon. Have I mentioned how much I adore the zoom on my camera? It's Theme Thursday you see, and after last week's limp effort, I have been thinking about how I might redeem myself. Then I clicked on the topic and discover that it was BUTTON. We've been hearing a lot about the moon in the past couple of weeks. Apparently some fellas went up there and played golf and what-not forty-odd years ago. The desire to get to the moon, however, was not simply about enhancing opportunities for Meg and Mog titles and skirting local planning by-laws in the construction of new and innovative golf courses. No, all of your Sputniks , "One small steps" and freeze dried ice cream was about one thing , and one thing only : MAD Now, I don't mean mad in terms of "bloke breaks record for number of scorpions he can get up his bum", no I mean MAD as in Mutual assured destruction . When I was a young man you see, there was a lot of talk about the type of m...

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. ...

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...

This will hurt me...

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