Skip to main content

Evil always turns up in this world through some genius or other.


Me! Castray Esplanade, Hobart Waterfront. September 2012.

Sunday Stealing is back! The Who Are You Meme!

1. What is your biggest pet peeve?

People's general selfishness/ lack of concern for others consistently frustrates me.

2. Where and when were you born?

I was born in Burnie, Tasmania in the week that Hotel California by The Eagles was top of the Billboard charts in the US.

3. Where did your parents meet?

You would have to ask them that question. I assume that it was in Melbourne, Victoria.

4. Do you have any siblings? What are/ were they like in four words?

I have an older brother. He was an older brother.

5. Where do you live now, and with whom?

I live in Hobart with Jen, Hen and Ez.

6. What is your occupation?

I like to call myself a "Policy, Research, Communications and Academic Professional".

7. Write a full description of yourself.

I'm just a sore and sorry little bot who needs to be loved.

8. To which social class do you belong?

Defining social class in modern Australia is a tricky one. Are we using a Marxist model? Weberian Stratification? Statistically speaking, my economic position probably puts me in the lower regions of the bourgeoisie (or the upper ends of the proletariat). Historically, I have emerged from two families that have firmly and explicitly identified as (proudly) 'working class', but simply saying something does not make it so (or does it...?) Complicating things, my education level does grant me greater potential for class mobility than many, and the fact that my employment doesn't 'produce' goods in a traditionally-understood industrial context puts me in that floating post-industrial milieu often accused of class 'betrayal' but in fact sees me be screwed over by the usual chancers, opportunist and exploiters...

9. Do you have any allergies, diseases, or other physical weaknesses?

Yes. I have a type 1 hypersensitivity reaction to a few things that related to the action of Immunoglobulin E (and other anaphylatoxins), which act to release histamine and other mediator substances from mast cells. Basically, in addition to other effects, the histamine induces vasodilation of arterioles and constriction of bronchioles in the lungs (i.e. I can't breathe). Even better, you'll also see a bit of urticaria (hives), angioedema (swollen lips, face, tongue, throat and skin) and, eventually, anaphylactic shock.

I could say, "I have a nut allergy", but given that many of the things that trigger the reaction - peanuts (legume); pine nuts (seed); almonds (seed); cashews (seed); macadamias (seed); and pistachios (the seed of a drupe) - are not, technically speaking, nuts.

10. Are you right- or left-handed?

I'm normal right-handed.

11. What does your voice sound like?

I'd like to think melodious but I suspect that it is more cacophonous.

12. What words and/ or phrases do you use very frequently?

"No", "Don't shout" and "For the love of God, please BE QUIET!".

13. What do you have in your pockets?

Keys, wallet, phone, hankie and antihistamine.

14. Do you have any quirks, strange mannerisms, annoying habits, or other defining characteristics?

Perhaps I am not the best person to answer this. Check the comments!

Comments

Kris McCracken said…
Travailler Travail.

Popular posts from this blog

If you want to be loved, be lovable.

Henry admires the view.

Zeal, n. A certain nervous disorder afflicting the young and inexperienced. A passion that goeth before a sprawl.

Here I have tried my hand at the homemade sepia-toned photo. I wasn’t happy with the way that the sun had washed out some of the colours in the original, so had a bit of a fiddle because I like the look on Henry’s face, and didn’t want to pass on posting it. I have a tip for those of you burdened with the great, unceasing weight of parenthood. I have a new recipe, in the vein of the quick microwaved chocolate cake . Get this, microwaved potato chips . I gave them a run on Sunday, Henry liked the so much I did it again last night. Tonight, I shall be experimenting with sweet potato. I think that the ground is open for me to exploit opportunities in the swede, turnip, carrot and maybe even explore in the area of pumpkins. Radical, I know. I’m a boundary-pusher by nature. It's pretty simple, take the potato. Slice it thinly (it doesn't have to be too thin, but thin enough). Lay the slices on the microwave plate, whack a bit of salt over the top and nuke the buggers for five minut

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