This will hurt me...

Free advertising. St Davids Park, Hobart. July 2013. No Sunday Top Five today. I'm on strike for Fathers Day.

Art? Runnymeade Street, Battery Point. August 2013. Sunday Top Five ? There are Five Things That I Want On A Sunday Morning : A lie in. A sleep in. To be left alone. Peace and quiet. No noise.

Political comment. Elizabeth Street, North Hobart. July 2013. Master Georgie , Beryl Bainbridge: This book won a lot of prizes, and it isn't hard to see why. Novel represents a unique glimpse at a character from a prism of lenses formed by those around him. This conceit works well and it allows Bainbridge to really explore three very different narrative voices. Not for everyone, as the author showcases a real mastery of technique here that can be quite challenging at times. However, if you love reading, you should love this book. A . The Second Tree from the Corner , E.B. White: A collection of literary miscellanea, some dated, some prescient. Uneven. C . Poodle Springs , Raymond Chandler (and Robert B. Parker): Private dick settles down, but circumstances won't let him. This was Chandler's last novel, incomplete at his death and finished by Parker. It's okay, if somewhat hackneyed. C .

Angry sticker #1. Paternoster Row, North Hobart. July 2013. Another one from Ezra! Lament of the Frontier Guard , Ezra Pound By the North Gate, the wind blows full of sand, Lonely from the beginning of time until now! Trees fall, the grass goes yellow with autumn. I climb the towers and towers to watch out the barbarous land: Desolate castle, the sky, the wide desert. There is no wall left to this village. Bones white with a thousand frosts, High heaps, covered with trees and grass; Who brought this to pass? Who has brought the flaming imperial anger? Who has brought the army with drums and with kettle-drums? Barbarous kings. A gracious spring, turned to blood-ravenous autumn, A turmoil of wars-men, spread over the middle kingdom, Three hundred and sixty thousand, And sorrow, sorrow like rain. Sorrow to go, and sorrow, sorrow returning, Desolate, desolate fields, And no children of warfare upon them, No longer the men for offence and defence. Ah,...

We're struggling. Mawson's Place, Argyle Street, Hobart. January 2013. 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... Sitting Is the Smoking of Our Generation. Dads Caring for Their Kids: It's Parenting, Not Babysitting. Toys and games: Are we paying for products that teach? Misogyny stinks, but we need to say more than 'This is horrible, poor us'. Celebrating Cassandre: Gorgeous Vintage Posters by One of History’s Greatest Graphic Designers.

Conspiracies abound. The Intercity Cycleway, just south of the Tasman Bridge. December 2012. Theme Thursday today has me musing on the tendency for people to look for the RHYTHM of things. The currents that explain life. They find cadences, intervals and melodies in way that things work (or don't work). Ultimately, in this disordered world I'm never ceased to be surprised by the ceaseless desire that many have for find order, explanations or RHYTHM to the flows of history and events. To be sure, it's usually some combination of a profound lack of intelligence or a missing reflective capacity to understand or interpret things. Or indeed it can be the (more dangerous, to my mind) product of both misguided and excessive educations. It's the only explanation that I have for the common feature of conspiracy theories, shadowy explanations or totalising, panoptic ideological theories behind the (quite simple really) messed up and confused nature of reality. Basically...

There's no mystery. Kirksway Place, Sandy Bay/ Battery Point/Hobart border. October 2012. Theme Thursday already and today we are talking CEMETERIES. CEMETERIES, you say? CEMETERIES. A place where the dead are buried. Especially a place that is not attached to a church. Hmmmmm. There must be a few of those place around. CEMETERIES. In Spring. CEMETERIES. Depressing. Some people like CEMETERIES. Some people like being whipped while jack russell terriers lick whipped cream from their pierced nipples. It takes all sorts.

Art? Lindisfarne Bay, Lindisfarne. September 2012. A Room with a View by E. M. Forster: Repressed Edwardian culture. Sharp sketch of the stupidity of the upper classes and the effects of shifting mores. Good stuff. B+

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...

Who (or what) is being protected? Ford Parade, Lindisfarne. January 2012. Two books this week, with one departure of the norm and another collection of short stories from an unknown German. The first is Tasmanian Tiger Ed Cowan’s In The Firing Line . Essentially the diary of the Australian domestic cricket season as seen through a player [then] on the periphery of the international game, Cowan struck lucky to decide on this endeavour the year that Tasmania won its second Shield title. While these books are often dry affairs, Cowan is both brutally honest in his assessment of himself, his cricket and the impact of his chosen career path on his loved ones. Moreover, he offers great insight with some considered and oft-unspoken views on the state of State cricket in Australia and the future of the game. I was particularly drawn to his observation on the effect of Twenty20 on both the domestic and international game. His frank and portrait of life as one of the invisible ‘not quite top-run...

One way, or another... The junction of Princes and King Street, Sandy Bay, September 2011. Another stolen set of questions ! 1) Who is the last person you high-fived? Henry. 2) If you were drafted into a war, would you survive. I would, as long as I didn’t sneeze. It is a dangerous business hiding under beds! 3) Do you sleep with the TV on? No. We rarely have the TV on after 7 pm these days. 4) Have you ever drunk milk straight out of the carton? Many years ago I did. 5) Have you ever won a spelling bee? Not to my knowledge. 6) Have you ever been stung by a bee? I stood on a bee once. Does that count? 7) How fast can you type? Reasonably fast. With speed comes errors though… 8) Are you afraid of the dark? It depends where I am. Generally I am not. 9) Eye colour? Brown. A beautiful brown like that found on Jersey cows. 10) Have you ever made out at a drive-in? No. In my defence, the last time I was six (Rocky III). 11) When was the last time you chose a bath over a shower? When the chil...