Equality may perhaps be a right, but no power on earth can ever turn it into a fact.

It's raining again. Princes Street, Sandy Bay. October 2011.

Yes, we know that that Internet is a wonderful place filled with all the rich and varied treasures that the world holds (as well a videos of fellows and horses in uncomfortable poses). The following are some things that I've had a look at in the last few week. I call this: a Compendium of Click-throughs for Monday Morning...

The ever-reliable Ben Goldacre explains why so much of what is reported in the mainstream media on "science" is rubbish...

A website full of pictures of women looking dissatisfied in bed...

A listening party from NPR with three members of Wilco to discuss their (magnificent) new album...

A fantastic article on my favourite vegetable from the Smithsonian magazine, How the Potato Changed the World...

Four charts that explain what Wall Street protesters are angry about...

A great interview from The Guardian with Jarvis Cocker about the state of music today. I agree with his comment, "Music's changed in that way. People still listen to it, but it's not as central, it's more like a scented candle. It sets the mood."

‎"...The largest scientific research study of its kind, analysing the relationship between multiple categories of childhood trauma (ACEs), and health and behavioral outcomes later in life”.

Comments

Vince said…

Nice one Krispy.

The line from the Pulp guy is a pretty good one actually. I probably agree too.

Not quite totally related, but anyway: friends have asked me to sing at the wedding on a beach in the New Year. The bride-to-be loves the song "The Blower's Daughter" and I will be singing that as she walks down the "aisle-beach". It's a classic example of how music sets the mood (and the lyrics become not as important)

24 October 2011 at 19:11

Kris McCracken said…

Vince! Good to hear from you. I agree with you and Jarvis.

You might have to amend that last line though...

1 November 2011 at 14:23

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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