This will hurt me...

Reflections, Tokyo Imperial Palace, Chiyoda, Tokyo, April 2016 Tuesday Q and A! When is it time to stop calculating risk and rewards and just do what you know is right? You should always do what is right, but only a fool chooses to go about that task without some calculation of risk, reward and potential repercussions. Are you holding onto something that you need to let go of? What do you reckon? Of course I am! I’m only human after all. What does your joy look like today? My joy looks a lot like ease, competence and confidence. It’s got a good bronze tinge on the skin, powerful legs and a cuts a mean jib. Is it possible to lie without saying a word? People do it every single day. Examples? “Has anyone got any comments or questions?” You can breathe underwater or be able to fly. Which one would you choose and why? Good question. I’m confident that flying would be very hard work, especially at 195 centimetres and 84 kilograms. I shall breath...

I’ve seen the light! New Town, August 2010. I thought that I found Jesus this morning, down the back of the couch along with a hair band, a red pencil and half a dried apricot that was beginning to develop a sense of itself. Only it wasn’t Jesus, it was a rubber band. Thank you, I’ll be here all week. Enjoy the buffet on the right… Now for part XXVIII in our seemingly never-ending installment… 61. WHAT WAS YOUR FAVORITE TOY AS A CHILD? Perhaps the trampoline. 62. HOW MANY NUMBERS ARE IN YOUR CELL PHONE? Six. 63. DO YOU USE SARCASM? Less so now that Henry takes my “thank you for that Henry” too literally. 64. DO YOU KNOW ANYONE FAMOUS? I have met the odd person recognisable from the news, but ‘famous’? Not famous enough. 65. HAVE YOU EVER BEEN IN A MOSH PIT? A number of very pissy mosh pits. 66. WHAT DO YOU LOOK FOR IN A GUY/GIRL? I’m not currently looking for a guy/girl. 67. WHAT ARE YOUR NICKNAMES? I’m not sure that I have any these days. At least none that are used around me. 68. HOW...

I know that I've shown the Diamond Princess before, but I do like the clouds in this one. Anyway, the tourist season is drawing to a close, so I don't expect to be showing cruise ships any time soon. There was a woman on the bus this morning who appeared to be browbeating her husband on the phone, she looked like the archetype of a horror wife: stern hair, sour eyes and a mouth like a crack in a pie. Anyway, she chastising 'Phil' to "stop feeling miserable about it, get of yer arse and get a bleedin' job". She then did the best approximation of 'slamming' the handset down with a firm poke of her (chubby) finger. When did people lose their sense of shame?

My moles in the ornithological world report to me that this little dickie bird specimen is Egretta novaehollandiae , better known as a White-faced Heron . I got a couple of snaps of this baby down in Cornelian Bay the other day, but couldn't decide if I liked it better in black and white or colour. I thought that I'd post both, and let YOU be the judge.

Here's an old one of the little bloke back when he was a fair bit chubbier and armed with a toothbrush. I reckon that he looks a little like a bond villain in this one. If so, what would be the title of the film?

John, Paul, George or Ringo? I can't decide.

In winter, the Derwent often look darker in the morning. I know that it has more to do with the light than the cold, but it would somehow seem fitting to see and iceberg or two bobbing up and down out there. I have a question for anyone out there: do you swim in winter? If so, why?

and i never really knew what was going on but blue lights red lights all around so window open scarper down street wanting all the time find out fuss i never even knew the girl by now i feel sick and taste bile need a drink need a smoke i don't even smoke drinking down the drunken admiral send you all my regards you're so tough you're so hard rain's coming down now sleep's well clear so west is the go go west young man and the lights on cambridge road stretch out and invite how i'd like to stop here right here with someone like you the gulf between the things i want and the things i need but watch out watch out don't trust anyone these days wait and think and think and think nothing of it of course if i were five years young ten years prettier if i was fifteen how things would be different but it's the drink and a longing look longing for that look could it be could it be no up to your old tricks again never to be trusted never be seen never saw always s...

Autumn morning sunshine can't be beaten for colour. Here is the sun coming up over the river, as seen from Franklin Square. Yesterday I erred in judgement and taught Henry the Queen song We Are The Champions . Now I can't stop him from yelling it at me (well, his version goes " Me Are The Champions" ). This brings back a number of horrifying memories of my older brother besting me in some kind of sporting endeavour, to then pummel me and sit atop my chest sing the above song. Do you have a song that evokes similarly terrible memories? I'm not counting anything by The Osmands, as they just don't count.

This is one of those "sleeping baby" things that you've probably heard about. Take a good look, it doesn't last very long right at the moment... And yes, Jen knitted that cardigan. If I'm not mistaken, it is a mix of cotton and (would you believe it) bamboo.

Here is my question to you, do robots poo?

Caught in the act! Here we have a sheepish Henry rapidly exiting the scene of the crime. Your task? What did he do?

The Commonwealth Scientific and Industrial Research Organisation (CSIRO) has a branch located about a three minute walk up the road from my work. This Marine and Atmospheric Research branch obviously has a reasonably high turnover of computer equipment, because at least once a month, a new skip appears filled to the brim with old computers, monitors, televisions and all manner of cords, wires, motherboards and who knows what else. I finally got over my shyness (and fear of being thought a terrorist/perpetrator of industrial espionage) to creep into the facility and take a few photos yesterday. Don't worry though, I didn't need to evade vicious guard dogs, scale razor wire or even jump a fence. I did, however, cross a road and walk through a car park. Yes, I managed to look both ways too. Now I know that there are some keen photographers here, so I would like to know what is the riskiest photograph that you've ever taken? Rampaging wallabies? Birthing wives? Hungry childr...

Top on the right, that's my office window. I've featured the view from there before, and I even shared the story of the time that they painted it shut . However, this is the first time that I've featured the view from the other side, so feel yourself privileged! I have a quiz question and a question question today. First the quiz question: Find the commonality: one television; one VCR; one digital set top box; three pairs of sunglasses; one pair of eyeglasses; one Personal Computer. First one to get that one wins a pat on the back. Now to the question question. Jen and I have been arguing about a matter of some import for the last few days, and I thought that I'd throw in out to the mob to resolve. It concerns a well known ditty about a certain spider who climbs up a water spout, some rain, a fall, and then a totally unsatisfactory denouement from the spider's point of view. The question though concerns this spider's name. We are both very certain that we are r...

Let’s face it, I love meat. If I worked at Woolworths, it would be in the meat department (another good name for a gang). So I must apologise in advance to any vegan, vegetarian or ovo-lactarian readers out there. It’s just that animals are so very, very tasty . Some hold that ‘the cuter the beast, the greater the feast’. I myself abide by the maxim ‘a happy animal is a delicious animal’. In this vein, I make every effort to source my meat (ooh err etc ) from sensitive, metrosexual, new age butchers. Now I do not shy away from the plain facts about meat, and – by and large – am prepared to eat creatures with heads still attached (provided they are BBQ’d or roasted; no boiling). Oh, and I don’t like tearing the heads off king prawns. The shifty little buggers stare at you like you’ve just farted or something. I wouldn’t trust them as far as I could spit ‘em. Anyway, to the question! For your money, what do you think is the world’s tastiest animal? If you just can’t bring yourself to ...

I am not too proud to admit that deep down I’m a bit of a flag fancier . Now, this shouldn’t be confused with a flag waver , who have a tendency to annoy me. Similarly, I’ve never died for a flag (as it strikes me as a pretty silly thing to be dying for). But from an aesthetic and sartorial perspective, a flag can make or break a country when it comes to style . A number of years ago (1999?), I was very much amused to find Josh Matthews’ review of all the national flags in the world. I must admit, that I like his method, and think that he makes some very good points. At the very least, clicking the link to see his grading of national flags will give you a compact page featuring all the flags for your perusal. Of course, flags are not limited to countries, so feel free to include sub-state flags if you wish. So with this in mind, please consider my two pronged question of the day: Do you have a favourite flag? Is there a flag that makes you blush at the blatancy of its fashion faux par...

I mused on Mr McClagan’s fine blog the other day on a gang that struck terror in the heart of Burnie many years ago now that went by the tremendously awesome name of (wait for it), the “ Big Boys ”. You just wet your pants, didn’t you? In a similar way, around my way these days, there seems to be a comparable posse going by the moniker of the “ Risdon Vale Boyz ”, which is often shortened to “ RVB ”. Obviously more gangsta than the “Big Boys” (the telling substitution of the ‘s’ with a ‘z’ is a sure sign of genuine African Americanism), the Risdon Vale Boyz are clearly hardcore, hence the “ RVB 4 Life ” tagged all over not just Risdon Vale, but Geilston Bay and Lindisfarne too! Lest you think that I live in the Hobartian equivalent of Compton or Watts, let’s just say that the RVBs are more Play School than Old Skool . That said, the gangs have got me thinking, thus today’s question: If you were starting up a gang of your own, what would you call yourselves? Again, be as brief as you...

Yesterday I mentioned a revolutionary new globally interactive Blog-cept, and here it is. It’s a question of the day ! Yeah, underwhelming I know. But I am interested in the fact that Google analytics tells me that I have quite a diverse readership out there. Over the last week alone, I’ve had visitors from 66 countries. Now I want to harness that collective knowledge by asking you some probing questions. I’ve already written the questions, and they’ll be appearing at Noon (Hobart time) for each day for the next business week, yes. that means five days of questions. As it is only fair, I will answer my own question first on the comments page. You can be as concise or as loquacious as you wish. As is my wont, I’m open for answers as long as this here Internet lasts. My intention is to give it a bit, l crunch the data and then wax lyrical as to what I might be able to conclude from it. Onto the question! Given the linguistic and cultural diversity lurking out there, I’m looking to you ...

Aararat’s finest , Freefalling, has asked for my opinion on Hillsong . As a fellow who professes no faith of a religious sort (but plenty in the potential goodness of rational thought), I feel that my best response is to restate that wouldn’t even consider attending the church until they book wonder band Sonseed. More via the Intertubes: I will add the comment that the Hillsong crowd, primarily young people, make me a little uncomfortable. Teens that embrace religion with unbridled enthusiasm independent of a) familial pressure; b) trauma of some kind; or c) chasing the hope of love (or something far filthier ) kind of freak me out. I've never had the call, so I'm probably not qualified to comment. I was always far more interested in footy, reading books, and looking at girls to go to reflect on my relationship with some allegedly omnipotent and omniscient being. Good luck to ‘em I guess, but I would remind them to please not go on and on and on about it. It’s boring and it...

So has the world ended yet? I'm not sure, and no-one has called to tell me if it has. But if the world did end, I guess no-one would be there to call and tell me. So if the world does end, how will I know? And do I still have to come in to work? Man, I'm confused.