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Showing posts from October 24, 2010

The greatest enemy of individual freedom is the individual himself.

How about this serious-looking chap? Is he simply pondering the physics behind the Dippin’ Dots before him, or something more philosophically inclined?

nobody loses all the time

A message from above? St Paul's Cathedral, Melbourne. April 2010. Of course, the bird is not a raven, but it would be far better if it were! Planning is underway to introduce Henry and Ezra to the delights of the metropolis that is Melbourne, so before too long you may well see a couple of familiar faces lurking in the corner of a similar photograph… nobody loses all the time (X) , E. E. Cummings nobody loses all the time i had an uncle named Sol who was a born failure and nearly everybody said he should have gone into vaudeville perhaps because my Uncle Sol could sing McCann He Was A Diver on Xmas Eve like Hell Itself which may or may not account for the fact that my Uncle Sol indulged in that possibly most inexcusable of all to use a highfalootin phrase luxuries that is or to wit farming and be it needlessly added my Uncle Sol's farm failed because the chickens ate the vegetables so my Uncle Sol had a chicken farm till the skunks ate the chickens when my Uncle Sol had a skun

The vanity of teaching doth oft tempt a man to forget that he is a blockhead.

Henry is a firm believer that the Danes are the true world leaders when it comes to modern professional cleaning equipment. Not for him are your Hoovers, Electrolux or fancy-pants Dyson. No, it's the Nilfisk or nothing! Now, if anyone from Nilfisk-Advance happens to be reading this, we're happy to accept any sponsorship to our "keep the house clean" campaign.

Man is a credulous animal, and must believe something; in the absence of good grounds for belief, he will be satisfied with bad ones.

Blossoms in bloom. St Johns Park, New Town. October 2010. As Friday Book Club rolls around, and I’m nearly done with Nobel Prize winning Hungarian Imre Kertész’s exploration of life in a concentration camp Fatelessness . Nearly isn’t enough though, so we’ll save that for next week. No, the book under discussion today is Former Cold Chisel keyboardist and songwriter Don Walker's first book, Shots . In clipped prose, Walker conjures up an autobiography quite unlike the norm. More a series of snapshots with a chronological thread, it traces his early life in rural Australia to his time in the Australian music scene. Life in the bush, a crack at uni, boredom in the public service and a struggling muso stuck in Lodi Adelaide. The gap – much to the dismay of some readers – is the period of success. I’m happy to take Walker’s word that we’d be bored by that. That said, there’s enough wild times on the road, sex, drugs and rock ‘n roll and hard-living Kings Cross if that’s what you are af

Boldness be my friend.

If that is not the look of a man ready to inherit the world, I shall eat my hat!

An unfortunate thing about this world is that the good habits are much easier to give up than the bad ones.

Focusing on the boats. Geilston Bay, October 2010 Theme Thursday rolls around again and today it is all about perspective. It is amazing how differently things look when one shifts one’s perspective, even to a minute degree. The problem is (of course), that many people appear to operate in patterns assumed over time, or from memory, not taking the time to alter one’s perspective and consider things from a different angle. Take yesterday evening’s photograph . An artist at work recording an artist at work (recording an artist at work recording an artist at work recording an artist at work ad infinitum ). The photo is not merely a record of a memory. Nor is it a statement of artistic intent. No, it is best considered as an indicator of a CONSANGUINEOUS marker. A genetic predisposition hitherto overlooked or ignored. Dangerous? Might I be creating a monster ? Focusing on the goalposts. Geilston Bay, October 2010

All that we are not stares back at what we are.

The artist at work.

A harmful truth is better than a useful lie.

#35 of a series that is never used. An abandoned car park. Campbell Street, Hobart, October 2010. Who knew that number 35 was so important? Did you know that…? 35 is the sum of the first five triangular numbers, making it a tetrahedral number. 35 is a centered cube number, a pentagonal number and a pentatope number. 35 is a highly cototient number, since there are more solutions to the equation x - φ(x) = 35 than there are for any other integers below it except 1. There are 35 free hexominoes, the polyominoes made from six squares. Since the greatest prime factor of 352 + 1 = 1226 is 613, which is obviously more than 35 twice, 35 is a Størmer number. All I know is Rule 35 of the Internet!

There's nothing in this world so sweet as love, And next to love the sweetest thing is hate!

A message to the world: even when drinking your apple juice, keep an eye out for CROCODILES !

Ads that I like: # 121

[Click to enlarge] Another tips for all you ladies out there: if you want to attract a man, or you want to keep a man, remember to have a wash . Moreover, do not be ugly ! They hate that, apparently. Even ugly blokes.

We all have these places where shy humiliations gambol on sunny afternoons.

These boots were made for walking. Seven Mile Beach, September 2010. Game Two of the Southern Touch Mixed Teams Division Seven was run and done last night, and the illustrious Statewide and Mental Health Services team Mind Games emerged slightly scathed last night with a gallant two tries to ten trouncing. On the personal front, no shoulder damage this week, just a nice big bruise on the right upper thigh (at the front) that I cannot explain. The quads are tight, and the left calf taut, but a vigorous series of stretches pre- and post- match appear to have served me well. As for the cheerleader report, they disappeared not long after the opening kickoff to search for playground equipment. Said equipment was found, but not before they spotted a small marsupial bounding through the sandy dunes of Howrah Beach. Alas, there was no camera to record the moment.

When the people contend for their liberty, they seldom get anything by their victory but new masters.

Henry does his best jive talkin' impression in the rain forest.

A great memory is never made synonymous with wisdom, any more than a dictionary would be called a treatise.

Mount Wellington and a tree. As seen from Geilston Bay. July 2010. Once upon a time there was this... boy . This boy lived in a hut made of... cats . The cats - of course - were dead. Well, most of them were dead. One of the cats was... magical . Magical cats eating... mushrooms .

What is fame? The advantage of being known by people of whom you yourself know nothing, and for whom you care as little.

How did those fingerprints get on the lens?

Society has always seemed to demand a little more from human beings than it will get in practice.

Stare down with a duck. Duck wins. Geilston Bay, October 2010. Sunday? Top Five? Here's an idea, the Top Five Ideas For Next Year's Birthday Cake ! Plain Apple Tea Cake Plain Egg Sponge Plain Banana and Cinnamon Cake Plain Blueberry Coffee Cake Elaborate Schwarzwälder Kirschtorte For those not Facebook inclined, I've attached this year's effort below... For the record, it is a Great White Shark rising out of the depths. The depths is made up of white chocolate mousse dyed blue. Sugar content was off the charts. If you're interested in more pics, feel free to stroll by my page there .