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Showing posts from August 26, 2012

The world is full of willing people; some willing to work, the rest willing to let them.


Love again: wanking at ten past three

Bandstand. St David's Park, Hobart. August 2012. I can't be one-hundred percent certain, but I suspect that this poem by the indomitable Philip Larkin might just well be the bleakest poem that I have read in my entire life. Enjoy! Love Again , Philip Larkin Love again: wanking at ten past three (Surely he's taken her home by now?), The bedroom hot as a bakery, The drink gone dead, without showing how To meet tomorrow, and afterwards, And the usual pain, like dysentery. Someone else feeling her breasts and cunt, Someone else drowned in that lash-wide stare, And me supposed to be ignorant, Or find it funny, or not to care, Even ... but why put it into words? Isolate rather this element That spreads through other lives like a tree And sways them on in a sort of sense And say why it never worked for me. Something to do with violence A long way back, and wrong rewards, And arrogant eternity.

Kindness is loving people more than they deserve.

There's a touch of the Errol Flynn's about the little bloke here, don't you think?

Poetry is what gets lost in translation.

The Funky Monkey. Lindisfarne North Primary School, Lindisfarne. August 2012. The Sea , by John Banville seems to have been a controversial winner of the Booker Prize in 2005. I guess that it's not so surprising that the response to this book has generated some degree of angst when the victory assured that a vast swathe of readers (of all tastes and persuasions) would pick up and read something that might be a little outside their comfort zone. Myself, I really enjoyed it. Yet it is an almost deliberately stifled book chock full of literary allusions and a meandering, haunting atmosphere. It certainly doesn't resemble your typical novel and is perhaps more an exploration of memory, remembering, forgetting and reconstructing life experiences that seem to be on the brink of slipping away. Beautifully written, there is more than a little Proust about this one. More than once I stopped and reread sentences and paragraphs just to check that they were as well constructed as I

The best remedy for a short temper is a long walk.

Congratulations are in order for young Henry, who has successfully read the most books by a Lindisfarne North student (all grades) during this year's Premier's Reading Challenge ! At 124 books in the duration of the challenge, it seems that he set quite a pace. Given that I'm still sitting on 65 completions this year , he has me well covered too...

If we knew each other's secrets, what comforts we should find.

I would have added a question mark. Sandy Bay Road, Sandy Bay. July 2012. Theme Thursday ? "It's your EYES", he used to say. He said it a lot. "I love your EYES." "You have the most beautiful EYES." "Your EYES are deep whirlpools of adorableness." He might have lacked a good thesaurus, but he always seemed sincere. However, his fixation on her EYES always worried her. Even during their most intimate moments, he would start and finish with them. He would start by kissing them, gaze intently at them right throughout the act and usually returned to them with soft and tender lips before rolling over into a deep sleep. To be sure, he enjoyed the delicate cleft underneath her left buttock. He relished the suppleness of her pert yet full breasts. And yes, it was not unusual for him to dwell on the gentle curve of her waist or lightly tongue her right earlobe. Yet is was always about the EYES. Even as he left, after he carefully pa

It is difficult to esteem a man as highly as he would wish.

Ezra is beginning to show an interest in the fundamentals of surfing. I knew that letting him watch Puberty Blues was a mistake!

If the world were good for nothing else, it is a fine subject for speculation.

Regal. Bonorong Wildlife Sanctuary. May 2012. Wordless Wednesday.

I hold it to be the inalienable right of anybody to go to hell in his own way.

A cold Henry is a sore Henry is a grumpy Henry is a tired Henry is an emotional Henry is a tricky Henry.

I have three kinds of friends: those who love me, those who pay no attention to me, and those who detest me.

Look both ways. The intersection of Davey and Murray Streets, July 2012. More Q and A. More stolen from Sunday Stealing. This week, Our Players' Meme ... 1. You have been awarded the time off from work and an all-expenses paid week anywhere in the United States. The catch is that it must be somewhere you have not been before. Where do you choose to visit? Given that I have not been to the US at all, I have a whole continent to choose from. Seattle and the Pacific Northwest. 2. Name three of your guilty pleasures. I generally don’t feel guilt about pleasure. However, the recent healthy-living kick has seen me attach some to the wrong types of food. I also struggle with spending money on myself. 3. The best kind of Girl Scout Cookie is: Ummm, the normal ones? I like a nice plain biscuit. 4. What do you value most in other people? Honesty, integrity and half a brain. 5. Be honest. Do you sneak some raw cookie dough when you’re baking cookies? Not unless the reci

I have no name: I am but two days old. What shall I call thee? I happy am, Joy is my name. Sweet joy befall thee!

Henry doesn't even know who Bob Beamon is...

Use the occasion, for it passes swiftly.

Grass will grow. East Derwent Highway, Lindisfarne. August 2012. As you know, the Internet is a wonderful place filled with the rich and varied treasures of the world holds (and RSS feeds.) 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... Bare necessity? The public health implications of removing pubic hair. France faces up to her past. Allowed itself to be tied to one man's (anti-American) agenda. Overpromised on leaks it never delivered, overhyped ones it did. Cavalier in not redacting dissidents' names. Once seemed a game-changer; now a one-man soap opera... How WikiLeaks Blew It. It seems quite simple really. How is rape defined in different countries? It's not about the outcomes... Gillard and Abbott’s ‘race to the top’ to support private schools. On that: The membrane that surrounds the political debate over school education policy is highly resilient. In this b

God's only excuse is that he does not exist.

I quite like the black and white. But then again, the starker lighting and grainy filter has its appeal. Yet he's still incredibly handsome with the untreated, slightly washed-out brightness of the original. There's a lot that goes into the post production.

Don't ever take a fence down until you know why it was put up.

Grass. Geilston Bay. July 2012. This Sunday, my top five is one of a more personal nature. Yes, My Top Five Pertinent Numbers That Occur In My RSS Feeds! From my 219 Google Reader RSS subscriptions, over the last 30 days you read 3,238 items and clicked 716 items. Since November 2008 I have read a total of 84,289 items. And, would you believe it, not ONE LOL cat amongst them!