This will hurt me...

Shoulders back Henry!

Head up!

Goodness gracious child, you walk like a peasant!

Finally!

Irrevocable proof!

Jesus was a traitor!

Imagine that, anointing the Fritz on the way to butchering the good guy. What a bugger.

I’d love to see the logic behind the central tenets of Christ that would generate an assumption that he’d be anointing his approval of trench warfare…

"The Hall", formally a church. St Johns Park, New Town. August 2010.

Struggling for ideas, I dipped my toe into the Intertubes for ideas and plucked out the My Life in Films Meme. At one time in my life, I watched a lot of fillums. Now I have children, and I watch Shrek every few weeks. Feel free to steal and apply as you see fit.

Films That Remind Me of Childhood

Anything featuring Sylvester Stallone punching people, getting punched, or blowing things up. The brother and I were avid fans of Sly and all things Stallone. That said, I wanted Ivan Drago to triumph and demonstrate the historical inevitability of Communism. Things obviously didn’t go to plan.

That said, nothing beats Rocky or Rambo at the Drive-In (remember them?)

Childhood Films Where Removal was Necessary

I don’t remember much about it, but I am told that there was a traumatic response to that part in The Muppet Movie where Animal eats one of the "insta-grow" pills, turning him into a giant. I believe that I may have been asleep and was a little shocked.

I also remember a reaction to the John Hurt dressed as The Elephant Man that very much missed the spirit of the film. I was terrified of the Elephant Man. His inherent dignity obviously didn’t shine through to a four year old. That said, my mother threatening that I continued to be naughty, “the Elephant Man will get you” probably also didn’t help…

Films that Defined My Teens

Tricky this one, as I was a contrary bugger and turned my nose up at the tastes of my peers. Thus, I can give you all of my long held rationales why Ghost and Pretty Woman irrevocably damaged a whole generation of young girls.

I shall have to confess that I eschewed Bill and Ted… for the rambling work of Hal Hartley circa ‘89–‘94. It seemed to conform to my highbrow taste, although they seem stilted and pretentious in retrospect. That said, The Unbelievable Truth, Trust, Simple Men and Amateur were on high rotation at my place through the teens.

Films Seen Multiple Times at Theatres

Multiple visits to the Burnie cinema were very much centred on the ‘movie marathons’ that they occasionally showed (two/three for the price of one). Thus, I believe that I saw Cocoon, Splash, Goonies, Big, Cocktail, Stakeout, Dirty Dancing, Who Framed Roger Rabbit, Young Einstein and a number of others a multiple times. I’m not sure that I’ve seen a single billed film ever more than once at the pictures, but I’m sure that I wanted to get back and see ET, Raiders of the Lost Ark and Return of the Jedi. I am pretty saw that we saw Rocky III at the pictures and the drive-in..

First Date Film

I am not sure that I have ever been on a ‘date’. I think that the first film I saw with Jen at the theatre was Pollack, so I will say that.

Nightmares from Films

I’ve already mentioned The Elephant Man. Any list of films that I recall as very much giving me the willies have to include The Amityville Horror and Poltergeist. The film that I terrified me the most though was a made for TV miniseries (back when the still did that) The Day After. People go on about 9/11, the Bali Bombings and Islamic terrorists, but for mine that has nothing on the oppressive fear of nuclear holocaust that seemed heavy pre-Glasnost.

Films that are Guilty Pleasures

I must confess to enjoying much of the Carry On… canon. I can’t say that I carry a lot of guilt over it though.

Last Film I Saw at the Theatre

My salary is certainly not large enough to make regular trips to the cinema (people really pay 20 bucks to see a movie? Don’t they have Broadband?). The last movie I saw at the cinema was Juno, and that was because Jen scored some free tickets. I have considered taking Henry along to the latest Shrek, but the showing times are not great.

Favourite Film No-one Else Seems to Know About

C’mon, we live in a global village! I think that is very hard these days to have an ‘unknown’ favourite. Once upon a time I would have said Kieślowski’s Dekalog, but then I discovered that the rest of the world knew about it! If I had to pick a little known gem, I might reach for would be Phillip Noyce’s very short Backroads, a harsh little road film that a lot of people haven’t had the opportunity to see.

If you would like to tackle this topic, help yourself. Or, if you'd just like to chuck your two bob's worth in the comments, go for it. I will promise not to ridicule you (unless you attempt to argue that any of Baz Luhrman's films have any merit whatsoever...)

Two of my lovelies, one of them grumpy, which is which?

Can we walk on water? Risdon Brook Dam, August 2010.

Henry is distraught that the local source of water – Risdon Brook Dam – is not infested with crocodiles. The only succour for him is that it is highly unlikely that a mighty and angry salty will emerge from the tap during a bath and vigorously demonstrate the death roll.

Henry is quite the artist. In fact, I share this wonderful portrait that he has prepared on that finest of artistic forms: the Magna Doodle.

Can you guess who the subject is?

NAB HQ. Corner of Elizabeth and Liverpool Streets, September 2010.

The National Australia Bank (or NAB) is one of the largest financial institutions and banks in Australia in terms of market capitalisation and customers. Apparently, NAB is ranked the seventeenth largest bank in the world measured by market capitalisation. That makes NAB bigger than such luminaries as Citigroup (US), Morgan Stanley (US), Barclays (UK) and Deutsche Bank (figure it out yourself). Just for the record, the NAB is only the third largest Australian bank, so we’re punching above our weight in the global financial world down here in Oz.

Which leads me to today’s Sunday Top Five, the Top Five Things That Australia Leads the World In (beginning with the letter ‘S’’!

Sheilas: this one should come as no surprise to anyone paying attention. Australian sheilas are renowned the world over for their good likes, fine figures and filthy mouths strong opinions. One simply cannot compile a list such as this without them.

Snags: Although I will confess to being a connoisseur of German-style snags, Australian butchers are renowned for their innovative and economical expansion of the concept. Henry and Ezra are fine judges of a snag, and regularly, they are able to choose between locally produced beef, pork, chicken, lamb, roo, wallaby, and possum. Personally, one of my favourite snags contains the humble crocodile – which I have enjoyed a number of times – but as yet they haven’t quite penetrated the Tasmanian butcheries yet…

Stupidity: don’t get me wrong, I believe that stupidity is a universal human quality found in every nation, race, religion, gender and geographical region on Earth. That said, like all fields of human endeavour: runnin’, jumpin’, throwin’ stuff; many Australians have excelled in the global stupidity ranks. Feel free to nominate your examples in the comments!

Snakes: We love our snakes down here at the arse end of the world. Unfortunately, our snakes are not always fond of a cuddle. Indeed, Australia is the only country that has more venomous snakes than non-venomous species! I advise all visitors to our great land to keep an eye out for snakes wherever they are, whether in the bush, scrub, billabong, beach, nightclub etc.

Shags: Australians love a shag. Men, women and children all day long, in all parts of the country, can be overheard debating the merits of a good shag. Every time that we leave the house, you can be guaranteed to see a shag or two. Aussies are mad for shags. As this blog has demonstrated over the years, the Little Pied Cormorant is perhaps the most beloved Australasian waterbird!

This photograph would make an excellent passport picture for the big little man.

I figure that there is no way in the world that airport authorities could ever mistake him for a terrorist.

Kayak on the Derwent. May, 2010.

One day – I promise – I will kayak to work. What’s the point of living next to a river estuary if one does not kayak to work?

We are the time. We are the famous, Jorge Luis Borges

We are the time. We are the famous
metaphor from Heraclitus the Obscure.

We are the water, not the hard diamond,
the one that is lost, not the one that stands still.

We are the river and we are that greek
that looks himself into the river. His reflection
changes into the waters of the changing mirror,
into the crystal that changes like the fire.

We are the vain predetermined river,
in his travel to his sea.

The shadows have surrounded him.
Everything said goodbye to us, everything goes away.

Memory does not stamp his own coin.

However, there is something that stays
however, there is something that bemoans.

There is a time when me must sling their hook over their shoulder, and go their own way in life.

This was one of those time.

Fortunately, they came back.

Looking north at lunchtime. St Johns Park, New Town, August 2010.

Did you know that the island of Tasmania is the twenty-sixth largest island in the world?

Well you do now.


Wondering what to do at lunch. St Johns Park, New Town, August 2010.

Ezra does his best impression of Jimmy Barnes (back when he was on the grog).

Rowing on the Derwent on a cold Winter's morn. Derwent River (with Bellerive in the background). June, 2010.

Theme Thursday and it appears that everybody has GONE FISHING.

“GONE FISHING?”, you say.

GONE FISHING.

I myself have rarely GONE FISHING. I’ve gone snorkelling; gone kayaking; gone running; gone swimming; gone off; gone on; and gone apeshit, but I believe that I have GONE FISHING two, perhaps three, times in my life.

It’s the guts I don’t like. I can handle the killing no problem, but the ritual disembowelment in such exhibitionist fashion seems to me profoundly disrespectful for the dear fish’s family and friends. Give the poor creature some dignity!

I’ve long queried the extended airtime given to the multitude of television programs dedicated to the men who have GONE FISHING. While I have no ideological, intellectual, ethical or indeed stylistic opposition to such programs, I wonder why it is seemingly okay to broadcast reel after reel of some pitiable pilchard in its death throes – blood streaming from the gash in its face as a giant metal hook has pierced its face – as two blokes ramble on about the weather.

Indeed, I eagerly anticipate the day where we will be able to see similar programs featuring the strangling of lambs. Or piglets. Even better, there is money to be made with humble Japanese fisherman scientists hauling in minke after minke.

Book it!

You know that movie The Thin Red Line, where that bloke who was Jesus had a lot of long, ponderous interior monologues? Looking at this photograph to me prompts a soft, searching Midwestern US drawl meditating on the realities of man's inhumanity to man, nature and God.

I've really got to get Henry trained on that Midwestern US drawl...

Looking for the sky and wondering if the rain or the bus will arrive first. Campbell Street, Hobart. August 2010.

I know that I am late and I can’t stay long, sorry!

Things are a little hectic…