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Showing posts with the label rabbit

a monotone with a name, as place / it is an aspect of human spirit

Railyard rabbit. Seen on the Intercity Cycleway, Hobart. December 2012. Do you know that I have seen eight ( 8! ) separate rabbits across Hobart in the past two weeks? Why, they almost breeding like... RABBITS! Colville , Kendrick Smithyman That sort of place where you stop long enough to fill the tank, buy plums, perhaps, and an icecream thing on a stick while somebody local comes in, leans on the counter, takes a good look but does not like what he sees of you, intangible as menace, a monotone with a name, as place it is an aspect of human spirit (by which shaped), mean, wind-worn. Face outwards, over the saltings: with what merit the bay, wise as contrition, shallow as their hold on small repute, good for dragging nets which men are doing through channels, disproportionate in the blaze of hot afternoon’s down-going to a far fire-hard tide’s rise upon the vague where time is distance? It could be plainly simple pleasure, but these have another tone or qual...

Dem Hahn, der zu früh kräht, dreht man den Hals um.

Somebody asked what Ezra was doing when I posted the photo of Henry and the rabbit. HERE is what Ezra was doing when Henry was patting the rabbits. He was trying to pick them up. To throw or eat, I am not certain...

Every situation, every moment — is of infinite worth; for it is the representative of a whole eternity.

Henry is on far firmer footing with the rabbits than he is with the emus. He likes them especially slow cooked in a nice red wine sauce...

Food that is dying to be eaten

I came across this photograph of a sign while browsing through teh Internets today. I do love an image that can be terribly grusome, yet rather cute at the same time. It reminds me of an image in one of my all-time favourite ads that has been previously featured on this site. Regular commentator and all round good guy the Political Ump mentioned on the original post how the pig with the samurai spirit reminded him of the sickeningly pleasant bovine bred to willingly and happily suicide in order to feed the guests in Douglas Adams's Restaurant at the End of the Universe . He's right, and now there is a whole website dedicated to such animals, the aptly titled Suicide Food , for hundreds of grisly yet happy pictures, pop on over and have a look. [Tip of the hat to Boing Boing for alerting me to this one.]