Skip to main content

What about me? It isn't fair!

I have strenuously avoided talking about the Australian Commonwealth’s Budget that was ‘handed down’ this week. It is obviously an important one, being the ALP’s first of this term, but went pretty much along with the script. Incoming social democratic governments have generally played it safe in their first budgets over the past twenty years in the Anglo-European context, so there was nothing too hair-raising or surprising.

What does frustrate me (although not nearly as much as it frustrates Jen), is the tendency these days for every kind of interest group, business and indeed individual to come out and bemoan how much worse off they are than everybody else and how unfair it is because they personally did not come off better. You know what people, it doesn't always have to be about you.

Anyway, I just wanted to say that and then link to Mark Bahnisch at Lavartus Prodeo, who has bothered to say in greater depth what I have been thinking, but don't have the time to write down! Anyway, he has done it greater service than I would have.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

If you want to be loved, be lovable.

Henry admires the view.

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

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