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Showing posts from May 20, 2012

Beauty is worse than wine, it intoxicates both the holder and beholder.

We like to call this one Pale Leg Jigger .

Autumn eats its leaf out of my hand

Things are looking up at the silo apartments. Salamanca Place, Hobart. January 2012. Rain rain go away. Seriously. Piss off. Go on. Now! Corona , Paul Celan Autumn eats its leaf out of my hand: we are friends. From the nuts we shell time and we teach it to walk: then time returns to the shell. In the mirror it's Sunday, in dream there is room for sleeping, our mouths speak the truth. My eye moves down to the sex of my loved one: we look at each other, we exchange dark words, we love each other like poppy and recollection, we sleep like wine in the conches, like the sea in the moon's blood ray. We stand by the window embracing, and people look up from the street: it is time they knew! It is time the stone made an effort to flower, time unrest had a beating heart. It is time it were time. It is time.

An early-rising man is a good spouse but a bad husband.

Go to sleep Ezra!

The proper words in the proper places are the true definition of style.

I’m not aware of any such services in the building! Mayfair Plaza car park, Sandy Bay. December 2011. Three books finished this week, a Russian, Hungarian and American walked into a bar authors all represented. First up is A Russian Affair by Anton Chekhov, a collection of five short stories all about love. Writing in the nineteenth century, Chekhov has a reputation for mastery of the short story form, so I was really looking forward to reading it. As a collection, A Russian Affair gives us a fair insight into Chekhov’s style, which has aged remarkably well and combines both an ease to with real emotional depth. Obviously, it represents a small sample of what Chekhov has to offer, but if you’re after a taste of his work, you could do far worse than this exploration of the emotional complexities of love. Recommended, especially if you are keen on quality short fiction. Second up is Detective Story by Hungarian Nobel Laureate (and author of one of my favourite books , Fatel

An intellectual is a person who's found one thing that's more interesting than sex.

I'm not certain that we will find that thylacine.

Contrary to what the politicians and religious leaders would like us to believe, the world won't be made safer by creating barriers between people.

Things grow in the unlikeliest of places. Outside of St Cuthberts Primary School, Lindisfarne. May 2012. By golly, Theme Thursday already. Where has the time gone? I would suggest Port Douglas or somewhere where the weather is warmer, the ocean a little kinder and if you really want to quit your job, sleeping under the stars might not be so unpleasant! Nevertheless, we are not here to talk about time or how much any of us might utterly loathe their employment circumstances at the moment, we are here to talk about something at the very heart of Theme Thursday: COMMUNITY. You see, as Brian has so eloquently reminded us, Theme Thursday is really about more than a theme or single blog post, it really is about COMMUNITY. It is a varied COMMUNITY, to be sure, and one that covers the entire globe. Unlike earlier manifestations of the form, which were inevitably local and shaped and constrained by innumerable barriers – distance, landscape, history, kinship, language – the online worl

I believe in luck: how else can you explain the success of those you dislike?

Now, who's a silly boy then?

Happiness is a hard master, particularly other people's happiness.

Another self portrait. An unnamed lane-way just off Murray Street, Hobart CBD. May 2012. Wordless Wednesday.

Good manners is the art of making those people easy with whom we converse. Whoever makes the fewest people uneasy is the best bred in the room.

We love you too, Ezra...

Technological progress has merely provided us with more efficient means for going backwards.

Alpine wilderness. Mount Wellington. April 2012. A fantastic Q and A this this week submitted by Smudgeon . Some tricky ones this week, some have definitely got me thinking. As ever, I'm always looking for new questions, so please feel free to shoot me any that you might have laying about! QUICK PICKS Hobart or Burnie? Burnie is always where my heart and allegiance will lay, but there are a number of good reasons that I live in Hobart. That said, it is starting to give me the shits... White, dark, or milk chocolate? I’m not really a chocolate fan, but I’d go dark (80% plus) if forced. Penguin or Wynyard? I hold both in very high esteem, but have to give Wynyard the nod. I have fonder memories and it has a nicer river and more options for food. In addition, it is much further away from Ulverstone. Marsupials or mammals? Aren’t marsupials mammals? The patriotic part of me should really feel much more strongly about marsupials but, to be frank, they really are a bit na

He was a bold man that first eat an oyster.

A coy Henry considers life as a lion. Some would suggest that he already knows full well about that sort of thing...

Ours is essentially a tragic age, so we refuse to take it tragically.

The grand old dame remains... for now. 10 Murray Street, Hobart. May 2012. The Internet is a wonderful place filled with the rich and varied treasures of the world holds (as well as naughty people doing naughty things.) The following are some things that I've had a look at in the last week. I call this: a Compendium of Click-throughs for Monday Morning.. Why countries fail... This picture is worth four million bucks... really?!?! Contingency, Foreshadowing, and Real-Time Tweeting... The problem with politics today...

Blessed is he who expects nothing, for he shall never be disappointed.

Ezra cracks an elaborate gag that involved a Greek, a Bulgarian and a Romanian transsexual who walked into a bar...

It is the vice of a vulgar mind to be thrilled by bigness.

Grows anywhere. St Cuthberts Primary School, Lindisfarne. May 2012. Sunday Top Five? How about these Top Five Words That We Need To Start Using In English! Backpfeifengesicht , from the German, meaning a face badly in need of a fist . Bakku-shan , from the Japanese, meaning a beautiful girl… as long as she’s being viewed from behind . L’esprit de l’escalier , from the French, which is generally translated as “staircase wit,” referring to the act of thinking of a clever comeback too far after the moment . Nunchi , from the Korean, meaning the subtle art of listening and gauging another’s mood. In the West, nunchi is about knowing what to say or do, or what not to say or do, in a given situation . A socially awkward individual can be described as ‘ nunchi eoptta ’, which means 'absent of nunchi'. Tatemae and Honne , again from the Japanese, which refer to what you pretend to believe and what you actually believe , respectively.