We should never lose an occasion. Opportunity is more powerful even than conquerors and prophets.

Where have all the flowers gone? They're here in St Johns Park! New Town, March 2011.

How’s this for a future summer blockbuster film?

Keanu Reeves is an intrepid former police officer – he was framed for a crime that he didn’t commit – who now volunteers as an arborist in an inner city ghetto helping the yoof overcome their deprivation through the love of trees.

Suddenly, and without warning, a tsunami hits!

Keanu must journey through the panic stricken city with a rag tag bunch of loveable street urchins to save the woman that he loves (and avenge the crooked cops that set him up), while the city falls apart!

I’m calling it:

H²WOAH

Green light!

Comments

smudgeon said…

Can I have a ticket to the premiere?

23 March 2011 at 10:37

Roddy said…

A fuchsia for the future.
I can't honestly say, but hasn't this story line been compromised before? Slightly different take, but the same theme.

24 March 2011 at 05:46

Kris McCracken said…

Me, I’ll leave your name at the door. Things could get awkward though…

“And you are, sir…?”

“I’m Me.”

“Now sir, I’ve no time for ay funny business. You are?”

“Me.”

“Now sir, don’t make me get angry, none of these fine people here need to see that. Your name?”

“I’m ME!”

[Fade to black…]

25 March 2011 at 11:00

Kris McCracken said…

Roddy, there is no such thing as an original idea…

25 March 2011 at 11:01

smudgeon said…

Throw in a dancing midget and some light jazz, and we're looking sat David Lynch's return to situation comedy.

25 March 2011 at 12:21

Roddy said…

How novel. No original idea! What will they think of next? Reruns? No I think that has been tried.

25 March 2011 at 19:17

Kris McCracken said…

Me, I'm not sure it will sell.

Roddy, BAH!

27 March 2011 at 17:12

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...

Search This Blog