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Showing posts from March 20, 2011

I had the story, bit by bit, from various people, and, as generally happens in such cases, each time it was a different story.

I am fortunate to have two such handsome, intelligent, courageous, courteous, enchanting, delightful and (frankly) tremendous little blokes for sons…

Let others have the privacy of touching words

The Hobart Waterfront! First time in a while... March 2011. Here's a sight that used to feature more prominantly on this here blog. It's the one thing that I miss from the last place that I used to work. On that note, the combination of fixed term contract with a few months left to run and the present uncertainly of a State government vacancy control program means that yet again I am open to offers regarding work. Anyone out there who needs an all around genius-at-large, let me know! A Conceit , by Maya Angelou Give me your hand Make room for me to lead and follow you beyond this rage of poetry. Let others have the privacy of touching words and love of loss of love. For me Give me your hand.

A lost battle is a battle one thinks one has lost.

Jen and Ez go hunting tiger snakes in the sand dunes. What could possibly go wrong?

Television is a device that permits people who haven't anything to do to watch people who can't do anything.

Dune. No sign of David Lynch anywhere. Calverts Beach, South Arm Peninsula, February 2011. Friday Book Club! Book # 1: A Very Easy Death by Simone de Beauvoir A Very Easy Death is an interesting reflection on a depressing set of circumstances – the death of her elderly mother to cancer – and de Beauvoir makes a number of really good points; but the detached tone and emphasis on herself can’t help me but think that on the whole it does seem a little self-indulgent. As an exercise in recording the process of hospitalised death for the French middle class in the 1960s, I guess it captures it well enough. The very last chapter somewhat redeemed it as a work though. Only for the really interested. Book # 2: A Meeting by the River , Christopher Isherwood I’d not actually read any Isherwood up to this point, but was aware of his reputation . A Meeting by the River was his last novel and it explores the ambiguities inherent in sexuality, religious devotion, and sibling relationship

These humiliations are the essence of the game.

What is it with little boys and their obsession with gathering sticks? Phallogocentrism? An innate yearning for creative destruction? Instinctive warlike tendencies? A fondness for sticks? Answers on a postcard…

As always, the British especially shudder at the latest American vulgarity, and then they embrace it with enthusiasm two years later.

Why is there a lion on the Tasmanian flag? Mount Nelson Signal Station, Mount Nelson. March 2011. Mount Nelson is a suburb of the city of Hobart, Tasmania, Australia. Its name would suggest that it is located upon a mountain, but you’ve not reckoned with the cunning logic of Tasmanians. Now, there is no universally accepted definition of a mountain. The Oxford English Dictionary defines a mountain as a natural elevation of the earth surface rising more or less abruptly from the surrounding level and attaining an altitude which, relatively to the adjacent elevation, is impressive or notable. Strictly speaking , Mount Nelson is not much of a mountain. Given that Mount Wellington towers over it right next door, I’m not sure it’s visage is either impressive or notable. Indeed, its highest peak is a measly 350 metres above sea level. The view of South Arm Peninsula and beyond. Mount Nelson Signal Station, Mount Nelson. March 2011. Mount Nelson was originally named Nelson's Hil

Under capitalism, man exploits man. Under communism, it's just the opposite.

Ez contemplates swimming through shark-infested waters™ to Jen. Will he survive?

He has a point...

The Tao of Charlie continues...

We should never lose an occasion. Opportunity is more powerful even than conquerors and prophets.

Where have all the flowers gone? They're here in St Johns Park! New Town, March 2011. How’s this for a future summer blockbuster film? Keanu Reeves is an intrepid former police officer – he was framed for a crime that he didn’t commit – who now volunteers as an arborist in an inner city ghetto helping the yoof overcome their deprivation through the love of trees. Suddenly, and without warning, a tsunami hits! Keanu must journey through the panic stricken city with a rag tag bunch of loveable street urchins to save the woman that he loves (and avenge the crooked cops that set him up), while the city falls apart! I’m calling it: H² WOAH Green light!

To have a right to do a thing is not at all the same as to be right in doing it.

Ezra steams off into the distance while Henry contemplates Horkheimer and Adorno's notion of modernity and the essential “regression” of reason.

There is always time for failure.

Zipping around the Derwent. Hobart, as seen from Bellerive. March 2011. It's turned a bit cold in the last few days, and no amount of stamping of feet or burpees can make it go away. AND everywhere I look I see Toy Story 3.

There are times in politics when you must be on the right side and lose.

General tip for parents i) Ensure that a smock is worn when eating ice cream.

Winning?

So long as the mother, Ignorance, lives; it is not safe for Science, the offspring, to divulge the hidden causes of things.

This used to be an orphanage. Poor orphans! St Johns Park, New Town. March 2011. The King's Orphan School , later, the Queen's Orphan School , was built in 1833 to provide for people who weren’t quite orphans; that is, the children of convict women, orphans those whose parent were unable to support them and abandoned children. It seems that the ‘school’ was a bleak and over-crowded establishment, with headmasters who were more interested in their own profits than they were the wellbeing of the children in their care. The minutes of one of the Board of Management meetings makes for grim reading. … Children had never been furnished with Porridge, but merely a very thin Gruel -- that the Oatmeal provided for making a thick porridge could not have been used, & that what had been used was never weighed or measured. -- that the Childrens Tea was made in a Boiler contg about 6 Galls of water, a handful of Tea with some Sugar & Milk being thrown into the Bo

The more we elaborate our means of communication, the less we communicate.

This a very flat photo, but it does show off this 'come to bed' eyes very nicely...

It is useless to tell one not to reason but to believe - you might as well tell a man not to wake but sleep.

Henry’s idea of an ideal hors d'œuvre is a stuffed vol-au-vent . At home, Geilston Bay. February 2011. Henry made the tasty treat that you can see above all by himself , proving that at four, he’s already a better cook that 43 percent of the population. All of these fruit ‘n custard myrtille, fraise et crème anglaise vol-au-vents were gobbled up within seconds of their completion. Indeed, there was barely time for photographs… Which brings me to today’s all important Sunday Top Five , The Top Five Tasty Treat Desserts That Have Some Level Of Effectiveness In Getting My Two Very Loud Sons To Just Sit Down, Be Quiet And Stuff Their Mouths ! Custard : plain and simple, fraise et crème anglaise is a favourite of all in the household! Semolina Pudding : heavy on the cream and raisons, semolina sans salmonella is a huge hit. Golden syrup dumplings : although initially treated with some trepidation, this humble ocker treatie is now a firm fixture on the winter menu. Ice Cre