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Showing posts from February 1, 2011

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife.

A plane, you reckon…? As ever, Ezra remains unconvinced .

War has become a luxury that only small nations can afford.

Waiting for the light. Campbell Street, intersection with Davey Street. February 2011. There are many things that one can do while waiting for the lights to change. If not reading a book or taking photos, I like to subtly alter the lyrics of popular tunes of yesteryear to amuse myself. If I can’t think of any, I concoct hypothesised conversations between any pedestrians that might be lurking around. If I’m really bored, I like to speculate what kind of foibles, desires, hidden strengths or indeed pervasions that complete strangers in the street might possess. Try it. It’s fun.

Civilisation is an enormous improvement on the lack thereof.

Three people among many riding a train with tyres on an asphalt basketball court at Lindisfarne Primary School. How did this happen?

A committee is a group of the unprepared, appointed by the unwilling to do the unnecessary.

Someone must have had some time on their hands. Opossum Bay Beach. January 2011. Christ almighty, we’re ankle deep into February already. In barely eighteen [ 18!!! ] more days, my oldest – and loudest – beautiful boy will begin his journey through the Tasmanian educational system. Yes, the time for Kindergarten has arrived! While I am certain that Henry will enjoy, and indeed flourish in the new environment, I do fear for the welfare of his teacher. He’s a bright boy, but headstrong. Firm of opinion (and even firmer of resolve), I suspect that he will attempt a classroom putsch ! Be warned. Whatever happens, he’ll be sure to have an easier time of it than I did, Why, my school was so rough we had our own coroner! Which leads me to today’s Sunday Top Five; [In Chronological Order] My Top Five Educational Institutions That I Have Attended ! Upper Burnie Primary School Parklands High School Hellyer College The University Of Tasmania The School of Hard Knocks When I look at that list of...

A man's character is his fate.

Ezra is one of those people that - from a mere glimpse - you can tell whether he is smiling or not. Consider his ear: happy, sad or ambivalent?

It seems these poets have nothing up their ample sleeves

Look at the plump, juicy …. [err] things. St Johns Park, New Town. February 2011. If I wrote a Chinese poem of the Sung Dynasty, I think that I should like to call it Reports examining the range and magnitude of alcohol’s harm to others highlight the importance of comprehending the largely hidden impact of alcohol on children and observe the wide range of harms experienced by children as a result of their parents’ drinking . I believe that it would have achieve no small amount of success and esteem. Reading An Anthology Of Chinese Poems Of The Sung Dynasty, I Pause To Admire The Length And Clarity Of Their Titles , by Billy Collins It seems these poets have nothing up their ample sleeves they turn over so many cards so early, telling us before the first line whether it is wet or dry, night or day, the season the man is standing in, even how much he has had to drink. Maybe it is autumn and he is looking at a sparrow. Maybe it is snowing on a town with a beautiful name. "Viewing P...

Parents learn a lot from their children about coping with life.

Henry hunting Notechis scutatus . Tiger snakes rank amongst the deadliest snakes in the world. Does this stop our Henry? Of course it does, he's not an idiot!

Every library is an arsenal.

The Croquet Club has seen better days. New Town, February 2011. Another Friday, more books. The Drowned and the Saved is a book of essays on life focused on understating life in the Nazi extermination camps by Italian author (and Holocaust survivor) Primo Levi, who draws upon his personal experience to face this ambitious task. Levi is one of the authors that I respect most, and whereas If This is a Man – a tremendous first of a pair of novels written directly after the war– was an autobiographical attempt at both recording and understanding, The Drowned and the Saved is his effort at an analytical approach. The problem of the fallibility of memory, the techniques used by the Nazis to break the will of prisoners, the use of language in the camps and the nature of violence are all studied. This book, published just months after his (apparent) suicide in 1987, was written in a time far removed from the experience of the camps. In it, Levi attempts to position himself as the dispassion...

It is impossible to persuade a man who does not disagree, but smiles.

Ezra’s first upskirt upshorts pic!

Mediocrity can talk, but it is for genius to observe.

Clouds seen in the hospital windows. Argyle Street, Hobart. February 2011. Sometimes the best way of looking at something is by looking at something through something else. We often fool ourselves that when we observe something for ourselves, we can achieve some kind of objectivity. Of course, all observation is mediated through the observer. If we consciously choose to observe something through something, we immediately abandon that pretence, and factor in the potential refractive points. We won’t get objectivity, but at least we might get something more contemplative. What that has to do with clouds is anybody’s guess.

I never know whether to pity or congratulate a man on coming to his senses.

It doesn’t matter how cold the water is, Henry remains am incredibly handsome chap!

It is better to be thought perverse than insincere.

Looking south down along the Tasman Peninsula. Eaglehawk Neck, January 2011. It seems to me that there are two kinds of people in the world. First, there are people who annoy me. Second, there are people who annoy me less. The Tessellated Pavement glimmers in the morning light. Eaglehawk Neck, January 2011. I am not sure that I was built for these times…

Handsome husbands often make a wife's heart ache.

Jen and Ezra always apply their sunscreen whilst bounded by delightful yellow flowers. Indeed, if I don’t have delightful yellow flowers at the ready, they’re both susceptible to Whitney Houston-level eruptions, and that’s something that nobody needs in their life…

Beauty and folly are old companions.

Careful now, men at work. A crane as seen from the corner of Liverpool and Argyle Streets, Hobart. January 2010. I treat the discovery of somebody else’s library due date slip – now helpfully printed out by some kind of bibliophile robot – as a rare insight into the mind of somebody else. Thus, when I found tucked in the back of Vladimir Nabokov’s Transparent Things a slip from the Burnie Library, I eagerly pocketed it for my perusal. What might it tell me about the puzzling punter who had previously perused the putative plot of a perplexing pederast? Let’s have a look shall we? The Critique of pure reason The very best of Bert Kaempfert [sound recording] Water music : and, music for the royal fireworks [sound recording] Immanuel Kant’s bold – and utterly impenetrable – attempt to understand understanding , a collection of the hits of a German ‘easy listening’ orchestra leader, and GF Handel’s most famous piece paired with a suite written to celebrate the end of the War of the Austri...