Skip to main content


Showing posts from July 26, 2009

A cynic is a man who, when he smells flowers, looks around for a coffin.

Sometimes a bloke can be a bit groggy when he first gets up. The mind is generally cloudy, reactions slow and muted. It's at this point that I like to shove a camera in someone's face.

You can't say that civilization don't advance, however, for in every war they kill you in a new way.

We've had a bit of rain about this week, which acts as a bit of a disincentive to get out with the camera. If you are interested in shots of raindrops or puddles, this is the place to be. Here is a railing down in Sullivan's Cove, just across the road from Parliament House. I haven't counted each raindrop, but won't stop you if you wish to.

Explanations exist; they have existed for all time; there is always a well-known solution to every human problem — neat, plausible, and wrong.

Who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men? Heh-heh-heh-heh-heh-heh-heh! The Shadow knows ...

Progression is going forwards. Going backwards is regression. Going sideways is just gression.

Here is the Royal Australian Navy Armidale Class Patrol Boat HMAS Larrakia sunning herself down in Salamanca yesterday morning. Such craft represent the Navy's principal contribution to the nation's fisheries protection, immigration, customs and drug law enforcement operations, and also contibute in the more traditionally associated naval areas of competitive shagging and general day-to-day buggery.

A part of kindness consists in loving people more than they deserve.

In another time and another place, Ezra would have made a more than adequate Black and White Minstrel , as evidenced here by a fulsome finale to "Mammy". As it is, he's holding out hope for a role as one of Gladys Knight's Pips.

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 t

Childhood is frequently a solemn business for those inside it.

John, Paul, George or Ringo? I can't decide.

Nobody is forgotten when it is convenient to remember him.

Lately I have been trying to look at things from different angles. Here is a fan on the roof of a building opposite my office. It reminds me of Boba Fett , and without the deadly laser. I have written a poem inspired by a meeting that I attended yesterday. Steering Committee They are the ones that know , or should at least. They are the ones that can , or could at least. They are the ones that don't , they don't you know?

They who feel guilty are afraid, and they who are afraid somehow feel guilty. To the onlooker, too, the fearful seem guilty.

Still no haircut, as the vicious La temido gripe de cerdo Mexicana has rendered the hairdresser MIA. I'm considering the electric clippers set to number one. Henry will look like a Marine.

Most people die with their music still locked up inside them.

Two Telecom Telstra towers that loom over Davey Street as it turns into Sandy Bay Road. Some years ago, while fuelled with Dutch Mexican Courage late one night I made it a good way up that red and white one there. If you’re reading this Henry, disregard that last comment. I am of the firm opinion that titular wonder that is Johnny and the... can carry any suffix to a serviceable band name. I’ve tried all sorts, from the bland to the inspired: Johnny and the Cats . Johnny and the Rebels . Johnny and the Detectives . Johnny and the Miracles . Johnny and the Broken Down Washing Machine . Johnny and the Over Theorising French Post Structuralists . I happen to think they all work, which leads me to today’s Tuesday Q and A : is there your own personal " Johnny and the [insert suffix here] " that you like best? Any you think don’t work?

Every person I meet is in some way my superior.

It's early doors yet, but Ez has already had a few offers from NASCAR. Them and the big chain supermarkets.

It is difficulties which give birth to miracles.

Here is a Salamanca seagull hanging about waiting for a crack at a wood fired pizza. What is it with me and seagulls ? Although it is not simply a matter of their multitudes in coastal Tasmania – although that helps when you’re scratching around looking for a photo – only a mug could deny at least an element of the propinquity effect at work here. No, it is more that gulls are misjudged , slandered and often unfairly maligned . Their critics see them as little more than opportunistic scavengers , when in fact, they are resourceful, inquisitive and highly intelligent birds. They have complex methods of communication and a highly developed social structure, lesbians or otherwise! F One must admire the way that gull colonies employ mobbing behaviour – think Soviet Army in the 1940s – attacking and harassing would-be predators and other intruders. I have a theory that most gulls are ardent Marxists, and I’ve yet to see any evidence to the contrary.

Nowadays, manners are easy and life is hard.

Two little men and one little cart equals one big headache. A lot of commentators have praised Ezra's teeth, and I shall admit that I have taken great pride in both of my lad's chompers, because both have led the pack from an early age. That said, I haven't had to put my nipples in their mouths five times a day.

Innocence is like a dumb leper who has lost his bell, wandering the world, meaning no harm.

It's still winter which means that we still have our guests parked down outside my work. Yes, the Norweigan-owned (but Australian-leased) Aurora Australis and our French friends on L'Astrolabe are still hanging about waiting for that pack ice to break up before they head back down south to throw rocks at penguins conduct important Antarctic studies. Time for the Sunday Top Five ! Today, I've opted for the not at all clumsy Top Five Countries That If They Were People I'd Invite To A Party : 1) India : they can bring the food. 2) Finland : they can bring the girls. 3) Jamaica : they can bring the groove. 4) The Czech Republic : they can bring the beer. 5) Western Samoa : they can man the door and keep out the undesirables (I'm looking at you Wales...)