Skip to main content

Posts

Showing posts with the label Christmas Eve

That's the true spirit of Christmas; people being helped by people other than me.

Clouds of DOOM appear in the east. New Town, December 2010. I’ve read a couple in the past week. The first, A Rumour of War is an autobiography/war memoir by Philip Caputo about his experience in the United States Marine Corps in the early years of American involvement in the Vietnam War. Caputo does an excellent job rendering the gravity, tragedy and absurdist nature of warfare. This is one of the better of the type that I have read. Caputo’s greatest success is the ease with which he constructs a narrative that really does elucidate the confluence of rigorous training, demanding circumstances and external pressure that leads the reader to contemplate how they might act in similar conditions. In this way, the comfortable self-assurance of one’s own moral safety net is not quite so secure. This is not so much a polemic as it is a plea. Very much worth the effort, although it’s intensity is rather draining. The second is Screwtop Thompson , a collection of short stories by one of my f...

Something must happen!

Look out behind you! It's Father Christmas and he's got a reindeer! Merry Christmas Eve everybody.

There are four kinds of people in this world: cretins, fools, morons, and lunatics.

Nothing says Christmas in Tasmania more than 舞狮 . Yes, the lion dance! This lion was spotted foxtrotting down Argyle Street during the Hobart Christmas parade, clearing away stray elves and Christmas goths in order to make way for an impressive and colourful dragon. Have a Christmas Eve story! Trudy A mere slip of a girl, Trudy had the filthiest mouth this side of the docks. Yet she had the face of an angel. Uncouthness aside, she possessed a razor sharp mind, particularly vis-a-vis her two favourite subjects: men and desire . Men, Trudy believed, were simple creatures. Her theory was straightforward: for the most part, men were slaves to their desires, particularly those of a sexual nature. Holding court with her merry brand of brightly-branded acolytes, Trudy would reflect on the topic for hours. “Even the most educated of men – if in possession of a fully functioning [ahem] member – is a hair’s breadth away from the condition of slavering dog. A mere hint of breast or thigh ca...