Happiness is a choice that requires effort at times.

Bubbles. Bellerive Beach, Bellerive. June 2013.

Theme Thursday? Of course!

There is JUBILATION in the nation even when they’re facing castration while avoiding the conflation of causation and damnation. I express a fixation for an excess of flirtation that at its very foundation is a classic formulation of cessation of narration through the privation of starvation and the utter stagnation and frustration of mindless gyration.

The feeling of admiration, extreme adoration. Adulation of creation, a negation of temptation. Translation and inflammation, your vocation a vacation. A summation of elation to consternation and fragmentation and immediate detonation (followed by a dissipation and distillation): devastation.

JUBILATION?

Try ‘deflation’, ‘degradation’.

Lubrication? Exclamation!

Toleration? Confrontation.

Abdication? Germination.

Abrogation? Desperation.

A classy accusation, a little affectation, a positive affirmation, an allegation, an avocation.

Bifurcation? Escalation.

Disputation? Dissertation.

JUBILATION?

Aberration? Quite the station. A malformation, masturbation.

Comments

Mrsupole said…

Love that the bubbles are from nature and also how you end it with masturbation which can cause some jubilation.

I guess there are a few "tion" words that I have no idea what they mean. Gonna have to get out the dictionary.

Happy TT. Hope you have fun playing around this weekend.

God bless.

20 June 2013 at 21:52

Anonymous said…

Impressive succession of rhyming shuns!

20 June 2013 at 22:21

George S Batty said…

In my younger years it was fun to sing about "reveling in the throes of fornication" and now that I'm old and gray "tion" is all that there is left to revel in". I revel in your ability to "tion" the morning away.
this was a great read...Old Grizz

20 June 2013 at 23:33

Leovi said…

Yes, lovely abstract composition, photographs Wonderful!

21 June 2013 at 18:15

Kris McCracken said…

Thank you all.

The bubbles are (of course) photographed from below!

27 June 2013 at 07:58

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. ...

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 ...

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