The fundamental concept in social science is Power, in the same sense in which Energy is the fundamental concept in physics.

Dude looks like a cabbage. Sandy Bay, April 2011.

I’ve not idea what this plant is, but I think I like it.

I was going to write a poem today about Tasmania, but I couldn’t find a good enough rhyme for “deindustrialisation”.

I was also going to look into Buddhism, but all that cycling of suffering, death and rebirth gets me down.

It’s been raining for four days and I am starting to get sick of it.

Comments

ratatouille's archives said…

Hi! Kris...
The photograph is..."beautiful!

Kris said,"I was going to write a poem today about Tasmania, but I couldn’t find a good enough rhyme for “deindustrialisation”...
LOL!

Let hope that it doesn't rain for 40 days and 40 night!

The quote is very intellectual? scientific? Nice quote!
Thanks, for sharing!
DeeDee ;-D

13 April 2011 at 14:59

-K- said…

Four days of rain? That happens once every few years here in LA, where this kind of plant is quite common. There are some growing in the courtyard of this apartment, as a matter of fact.

15 April 2011 at 00:45

Kris McCracken said…

DeeDee, that's Mr bertrand Russell...

-K-, no rain at the moment. There are plenty of grey clouds though...

15 April 2011 at 11:54

Roddy said…

It is a succulent of the cacti family. My grandfather grew virtually thousands of them when we were kids.
How about Sanitisation? Perhaps that isn't a word but it rhymes with what they are doing to our state.

15 April 2011 at 12:53

Kris McCracken said…

That doesn't rhyme.

15 April 2011 at 13:24

Roddy said…

Deindustrialiation.
Sanit i satition.
It rhymes to me.

16 April 2011 at 16:39

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...

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. ...

This will hurt me...

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