A committee is a group of people who individually can do nothing, but who, as a group, can meet and decide that nothing can be done.

Someone must be paying attention. The stairwell in the Curruthers Building, St Johns Park, New Town. February 2011.
Crikey, Sunday already and I need another Top Five.

With inspiration rapidly dwindling, how about Five Mr Men Books That I Think Would Totally Be Worth Reading?

Mr Seedy: I’ve always thought that Charles Bukowski would have made a decent Mr Men book. Mr Seedy could teach Mr Fussy a thing or two about having fun.

Mr Moral: There’s a lot of potential for this one. Think of a superior and condescending Mr Man learning true moral worth. Mr Happy can take the charge, but there’s scope for many Mr Men joining in.

Mr Resentment: Think Victor Meldrew, only more bitter.

Mr Obsession: Mr Man as creepy stalker. Little Miss Splendid can be the target.

Mr Lebensmüde: not only would this make for an interesting picture book, we could try and leverage off a Bergman-esque four hour film as well…

Comments

Roddy said…

Mr. Lebensmude? What a novel subject for a kids book. Let's take an in depth look at suicide!
re: your header. Only until they have eaten cake.

30 January 2011 at 09:31

Kris McCracken said…

Well, it really means more "world weary" than "suicidal"...

31 January 2011 at 11:29

Roddy said…

Depends on your reading of Lebensmude.

31 January 2011 at 14:25

Kris McCracken said…

Suicidal is a misinterpretation. They already have a word for that.

31 January 2011 at 14:33

Roddy said…

I read "tired of life". aka suicide. Sorry!

31 January 2011 at 14:35

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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