Intuitive assumptions about behaviour is only the starting point of systematic analysis, for alone they do not yield many interesting implications.

Behold... SCIENCE. The kitchen, Geilston Bay. January 2012.

Theme Thursday again and I am treating you to a unique VIEW of science in action!

In my VIEW Henry just hadn’t been pulling his weight in 2011 bread-wise. so Satan Claws and I had a little pow-wow and decided that the liberating force of science could be the secret to unlocking his money-earning potential. The big man in red did his part and on Christmas morn, Henry (as per yesterday evening’s post) found himself the lucky owner of this science kit!

Science, you see, is where it is at in 2012. You might think that it is little more than a systematic endeavour that builds and organises knowledge in the form of testable explanations and predictions about the corporeal universe.

Well, that would depend on your VIEW.

In 2012, science is big bucks. Science means shed weight™, get fitter©, run faster®, stay harder™ and look younger®. Science is a business. A very profitable business.

The experiment that Henry and I are conducting above involved a [patent pending] chemical concoction that – in one dose – brightens jewellery, teeth and complexion, as well as sustains one’s love-making endeavours TEN-FOLD [subject to individual circumstances that are not the responsibility of the patent holder].

Of course, we have talked about curing cancer, AIDS, the common cold etc etc; but we’re not so sure of making a quid.

Mad as hell

So there I was, arm hooked up to the machine, watching my plasma swirl away into a bag while the morning news dribbled across the screen like a bad fever dream. And what were they showing? A "riot" in Melbourne, allegedly. The sort of riot where the real thugs wear body armour, carry pepper spray and look like they just walked off the set of RoboCop. The people they were beating? A ragtag crew of teenagers and old hippies—probably fresh out of a drum circle, still smelling of patchouli. But sure, let's call it a riot. Now, here's where it really gets good. I mentioned this spectacle to a few people later, thinking maybe they'd share my outrage or, at the very least, give a damn. But no. What did I get instead? A smirk, a chuckle, and—oh, the pièce de résistance—"You should really just let it go." Let it go? Yeah, let me uncork a nice, overpriced cup of coffee, sit back with my legs crossed, and soak in the latest reality TV trash. Why bother caring when ...

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. ...

Something unpleasant is coming when men are anxious to tell the truth.

This is the moon. Have I mentioned how much I adore the zoom on my camera? It's Theme Thursday you see, and after last week's limp effort, I have been thinking about how I might redeem myself. Then I clicked on the topic and discover that it was BUTTON. We've been hearing a lot about the moon in the past couple of weeks. Apparently some fellas went up there and played golf and what-not forty-odd years ago. The desire to get to the moon, however, was not simply about enhancing opportunities for Meg and Mog titles and skirting local planning by-laws in the construction of new and innovative golf courses. No, all of your Sputniks , "One small steps" and freeze dried ice cream was about one thing , and one thing only : MAD Now, I don't mean mad in terms of "bloke breaks record for number of scorpions he can get up his bum", no I mean MAD as in Mutual assured destruction . When I was a young man you see, there was a lot of talk about the type of m...

This will hurt me...

Search This Blog