Dreams can come true...

I find talk of career paths infinitely dull.

Comments

On the other hand, hearing about the work history of some people (without the 1980s career-speak) can be very interesting. Looking back at work and location is how I mark the epochs of my personal history. But I won't bore you with that here... 6^)

1 December 2008 at 12:20

Kris McCracken said…

USelaine, that I agree with. It's interesting to see the twists and turns that people often take. As a keen student of history, I would say that of course.

I will add that the most interesting of these conversations never match what the dullards who bore me with talk of their own career projections envisage, either!

1 December 2008 at 12:38

Debbie Courson Smith said…

Um..."career path" - I'm not even sure anyone who runs in my circles knows what that might mean...me included! I can bore people in so many other ways!

1 December 2008 at 12:59

-K- said…

For me, talking about careers is like talking about sports. I don't have many of the natural gifts for either of them but I also have to admit to sometimes being envious of others who do have them.

2 December 2008 at 03:35

Kris McCracken said…

Diva, it is indeed boring talk. I like when you bump into someone you knew once long ago, and you happen to be holding a baby. This other person somehow manages to share what they've done, what they're doing and what they intend to do and then you part ways, realising that at no point did they a) ask you about yourself; b) express any interest in what you are doing; or c) didn't even bother to ask the baby's name!

That happened to Jen just the other week.

K, if you've got one, I don't mind. It's just the self-absorption that seems to accompany them that kills any interest for me.

8 December 2008 at 08:50

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 ...

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. ...

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...

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