This will hurt me...

I think that he strikes me in this photograph as a little Napoleon trapped on St Helena...

Here is the river Derwent enjoying a spell of good weather yesterday morning. Of course, it is Theme Thursday yet again, and the theme is a challenging one for me, stuck here in Tasmania during the coldest and wetest winter in my memory since that Annus horribilis of 1996. The theme, you see, is that of FESTIVAL. A FESTIVAL is an event , usually staged by a local community, which centres on some unique , interesting or exciting aspect of that community. Back in June we had the Ninth Antarctic Midwinter Festival down here in Hobart, but the only event I wanted to go to got called off because of winter rain. Who knew that Huskies don't like getting wet? You see, it's been too cold, too wet, and there have just been too many pandemic scares to get anyone in a party mood. My house have pretty much seen an endless loop of coughing, cranky and tired people clutching wet handkerchiefs while snapping at each other and grizzling. Oh, and complaining about the endless rain. Yes, th...

Here is a photograph taken on my way to work this very morning. Yes it's another couple of ships, but you'll need to forgive me that one. It's hard not to take pictures on the waterfront when it remains the dominant feature every day. Feelings seem to be very flat here in Australia at the moment, due to the bushfires. I'm not sure that I can remember anything like it before. Mind you, with so many stories like this one dominating the news, it is kind of hard to avoid being a bit down about it.

Politics can be an exciting, boring, uplifting, depressing and downright nasty business. It always has been. For these reasons I have made it the focus of my study for an awfully long time, but also for these reasons I more often than not try to avoid following it at all costs. I was going to do this whole positive bit on 'politics' being essentially about the conciliation and compromise of innumerable issues in the pursuit of maintaining peace, harmony and (hopefully) prosperity that is (roughly) 'just/fair', but my heart just isn't in it. Against my better judgment, I decided have a look around at some of the reaction to Sarah Palin being chosen as McCain's Vice-President nomination, but the discussion is just so split along partisan lines that I just can't be bothered. There are an awful lot of hateful people out there who seem to confuse 'righteous anger' with 'coherent argument'. My free time at the moment is WAY too valuable to waste ti...

I posted a few days ago some thoughts that I'd had about the noticeable sexism that can be found in the US Presidential pre-selection process. Without wanted to rehash it, I've been equally parts bemused, angered and depressed by some of my experiences online. Indeed, I've had a number of 'unpleasant' interactions in attempting to flag some of the inappropriate (read: sexist) attacks and assumptions on Clinton, or at least in trying to get people to at least self-identify that maybe some things should be 'out of bounds' in campaigning (like the t-shirt identifying Clinton as a prostitute). Generally speaking though, endeavouring to raise this doesn't seem to be provoking useful and thoughtful debate. I'd like to think that I tread warily in these matters, and attempt to promote a good discourse rather than go in too heavy handed (at least on someone else’s blog!). But it appears to be to no avail, responses generally start at "Don't be so s...

In the most depressingly predictable manner, bad public policy has won the day again. I can't say that I blame the government, but in their pursuit of a 'fair go for carers', the media's simplistic bombast has only extended a less efficient, more expensive means of delivering what ultimately is a small amount of money. The most shameful part of the whole thing is how wholly unsurprising it has been.

So the Indians get their way again? Surprise, surprise. The new evidence that was all over the news last night was pretty damning on Harbhajan, but hey, they were going to “abandon the tour” again, so we better let him off. They may as well throw out any semblance of actually taking racist abuse seriously and let anything go. The ongoing jumble of “he didn’t say it” and “to call the black guy a monkey isn’t racist” from many, many Indian supporters is also doing my head in. If I have to listen one more time about fair play from the mob that threatens to take their bat and ball home every single time a call goes against them, I will fair dinkum scream. I also feel the need to point to some of the frankly pathetic appeals and attempts to intimidate Bowden in Adelaide, but hey, what would be the point, these blokes don’t see anything but conspiracy against them. The saddest part is that I can just imagine what every drunken yob on the hill is going to call out to Harbhajan (and no doubt ...

As is always a good sign, I managed to steam through this book in 3 days, despite the fact that I’ve been working full time at the moment. Seriously, I found this book difficult to put down, and one of those occasions when you are truly sad to finish it. Compounding this is the fact that we get no subsequent biographical information of the author (although I both respect and understand her right to choose this). I’ve tried not to give too much away as to events of the book. The author – then a 34-year-old journalist – started this eight-week diary in April 1945, as the Russians were encircling Berlin and the city's (mostly female) inhabitants was heading to its cellars to wait out the fighting. The scarcity of food meant that anyone able-bodied took to looting buildings for food of any kind. However, soon the Red Army arrived and soldiers were everywhere. With an astonishing degree of bluntness, she describes the plundering of her neighbourhood when Berlin was conquered and Soviet ...

From Peter Roebuck's SMH column today: “To a greater and lesser degree all sportsmen die in hotels. That night Woolmer went to his room with its silences and accusing walls, an isolated figure trying to come to terms with futility. Britain's Daily Mirror said his death was caused by an overdose of prescription medicine and alcohol, but his family pointed to stress.” If that is the case, how depressing. He shouldn't have expected any more of the Pakistan cricket team, it's what the do! For all of the shit heaped upon him to drive him to that! He could have quit, walked away and no-one would have thought any less of him.