The life of a daredevil is never easy. Cliffs on one side; rocks, sharks and God knows what else on the other…
It’s a good thing that Henry has nerves of steel.
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. ...
Comments
HENRY! be very careful...as you face the elements, sharks, and only God knows what else!!!! lol!
"It’s a good thing that Henry has nerves of steel."
Oh! Yes, he is..."fearless!
Thanks, for sharing the quote that rings so very true!
DeeDee ;-D
Often people ask, "how can you do this?" You have to learn to live with the risk, grow in the risk. And naturally children do that. Look for your limits, stretch your limits.
Kris, who is the autor?
I think, I have to post it one time.
DeeDee, it is a very scary world.
Carola, Jawaharlal Nehru is the one I'd read it from, but Alexander the Great is recorded as having said something similar too.
I hope you did, or will, see my Jerusalem ANZAC Day commemoration posts a few days ago. Even here we do not forget.
Shalom to you all.
ANZAC Day with the survivors of WWI was always something of a day of bitterness to some, and this was always encapsulated by the prominence of the notion of the ‘futility of war’. Surely this is apt. Really, what event in Australia's history demonstrates more aptly the bloody-minded futility and unreserved waste of war than the miserable (and utterly futile) diversionary campaign in the Dardanelles?
Forgive me for thinking that what blokes like my grandfather – who served in WWI and whose father died in WWI – meant was that such days were about realising that war is a stupid, vain exercise and more often than not, not worth the sacrifice. Forgive me for thinking that such days were once about denouncing the notion of war as an appropriate means to resolve dispute. It was about reminding us what war is really like, and what the costs actually are.
That’s what ANZAC Day is supposed to be about in my eyes. Making sure that we remember what war is truly like. Remembering the sacrifice, absolutely. But also about remembering the true costs of war, reminding ourselves about the reality of war, and really and truthfully thinking about whether or not such costs are worth it.