This will hurt me...

Polite. East Derwent Highway, Lindisfarne. August 2013. The Gardener from Ochakov , Andrey Kurkov: I had been anxiously awaiting the latest from my favourite Ukrainian author, and it didn't disappoint. A time-travel adventure (a theme this week) with a light touch, I'm not sure whether Kurkov is satirising or indulging in a bit of post-Soviet nostalgia. As we often see in Kurkov's books, there is a clash of the mundane - tracksuits, minibuses, homemade vodka - and the surreal - knife-wielding gangsters from 1950s Soviet Union. I really enjoyed it. B+ . The Time Machine , H.G. Wells: The classic of the genre, it's a surprise to see just how much the story is interwoven with Darwinian and Marxist theory. The 19th Century was one hell of a trip! I reckon that it stands up. Well worth your time. B+ . Me Talk Pretty One Day , David Sedaris: A collection of essays by Jerri Blank's brother (that's who David Sedaris will always remain in my heart). Some of the ...

ACHTUNG! Melville Street Car Park, North Hobart. July 2013. An odd little Disney-themed Q and A from Sunday Stealing today, the the fairy tale meme Snow White: Do you consider yourself pretty? Name the part of your body you think is the most beautiful! Pretty? Probably not. How about "ruggedly handsome"? I have lovely legs though... Cinderella: What is your shoe size? It's usually 13 or 14, depending on the brand. Sleeping Beauty: How many hours do you sleep each night? Around seven. Little Red Riding Hood: What is your favourite food? I love berries, particularly raspberries. The Frog Prince: What do you find disgusting? The stale smell of cigarettes turns my stomach. Jack and the Beanstalk: What plants are in your room? Alas, no plants. Puss in Boots: Do you have a pet? Do you want one? No pets no plants. I have children, thus no need for pets! Rumpelstiltskin: What is the meaning of your url? U niform R esource L ocator. [Ahem.] ...

One day people will come and wonder what all of this was about. Footpath leading onto the Tasman Highway, Hobart. June 2012. I suspect (hope?) that we are nearing the end of this marathon series of Q and A stolen from Sunday Stealing, the ominous Imaginary Meme, Part Six ! 101. Name 4 things you always have with you. i) Watch, ii) wallet, iii) keys, iv) phone. More often than not, I also have v) camera and vi) book. 102. How many SERIOUS ex-girlfriends/ boyfriends/ significant others do you have? None. 103. What causes you to you admire people? Anyone who manages to combine half a brain with integrity always warrants my admiration. 104. Do you like sports? I do. 105. Would you have sex after marriage? Why or why not? What an odd question. I can only presume that they mean ‘before’ rather than after, although it seems that there is often a correlation between post-marriage/ decline in sexual congress. As for sex before marriage: why ever not? 106. What is your favour...

How very apt...

Wordless Wednesday.

There is always one joker... Queen Victoria Museum and Art Gallery, Launceston. February 2012. The Porcupine is a novel by Englishman Julian Barnes that was originally published in Bulgarian [ Бодливо свинче]. This should give us a very strong clue as to the identity of which post-communist country the story takes place. The novel concerns the trial of the former communist leader of Bulgaria, and its effects on both the central protagonists of that trial, as well as the broader community. The real strength of the book is the complexity of its characters. There is no clear ‘black and white’ here and the tones in which the former dictator and the new democratic government’s representatives are painted are very much grey. Barnes has done an excellent job of overcoming the certainties of Cold War triumphalism and creating human characters (especially given that the book was released in 1992, with events still very fresh in the mind). The point of the book seems to be more than exploring c...

Careful now boys, someone might end up needing a Band-Aid...

I think that we should just ban golf altogether. Geilston Bay High School, Geilston Bay. November 2011. Another couple of books finished this week, as I slowly make my way to the magic to the magical 100 for the year (I am currently sitting at 98*). First up is Bodily Secrets by William Treevor. A slender collection of short stories by a fine writer, the collection revolves around the theme of relationships (and yes, ‘love’). At once tender and taut, it is a great little book that covers the whole gamut of emotions. Recommended. Second up is Nobel Prizewinner Imre Kertész's Liquidation a very Central European dose of introspection that mixes quite radical departures in style (there is a a text-within-a-text-within-a-text) and some pretty heavy intellectual chicanery in the way that it constructs its existential dilemma in the face of the existence of Auschwitz. There is a fair whack of self-reflexivity here, as once again Kertész mulls the weighty shadow of the camp that he spen...

I shall try not too. Elizabeth Street Pier, Sullivan's Cove. November 2011. It's Tuesday right? That means another Q and A stolen from Sunday Stealing. This week, The Madness Meme, Part 2 [the madness continues]. 23. Do you ever walk around the house naked? All the time. It’s my house! 24. If you were an animal what would you be? Why? Erm... I’m pretty sure that I am an animal. Humans can get mighty uppity sometimes about their position in the food chain. If the question was intended to be “If you were a different kind of animal what would you be? Why?”, I guess that I’d say Great White Shark. Why? I dunno. Cruising around. Easting stuff. Sounds cool. 25. Hair colour you like on someone you’re dating? These things are always going on about ‘dating’. I don’t even know what that means! Is it a euphemism for ‘rooting’? Anyway, I like brown hair on girls. 26. If suffering an injury, would you rather be left blind or deaf? I really rather not suffer the injury, but if you have a h...

Occupy Geilston Bay? Geilston Bay path to nowhere. September 2011. The Internet is a wonderful place filled with the rich and varied treasures of the world holds (pay attention folks). The following are some things that I've had a look at in the last few week. I call this: a Compendium of Click-throughs for Monday Morning ... Some answers to a question that has troubled me for some time: Has the use-by date gone past its prime? This history of HIV sounds like the best epidemiological detective story of all time. On why we shouldn't cry for Argentina ... Troll or idiot? I honestly cannot decide. Another existential question that needs answering: Why does the Australian Labor Party still exist? Dang! Another dream has been snatched away from me ! How is this for a depressing fact: ten times as many girls are trafficked into brothels annually as African slaves were transported in the peak years of the slave trade. The NY Times has more on the face of modern slavery . Ever wonder...

What would Bon Scott do? Lindisfarne Village, Lindisfarne. November 2011. Just managed to complete the one book this week, and what a disappointment it proved to be. Hans Keilson’s The Death of the Adversary is an odd little portrait of a nameless young man tracking an unnamed “adversary” whom he watches rise to power in an unnamed country in the 1930s. Keilson – a German Jew – wrote the book while in hiding in the Netherlands during World War Two. Interestingly, the novel itself has been lauded as a ‘lost’ masterpiece in the last few years. Now, I shall be frank and confess that although I think that the book is a really interesting piece of history, as a literary work it seems a little uneven to me. Perhaps it is a deliberate narrative device, but the jarring (and repetitive) series of notes ruminating on the rise of Hitler, his motives, personality, as well as the nature and causes of the rise of fascism and anti-Semitism is clumsy and wooden (perhaps this might be a poor translat...

Achtung! Lord Street, Sandy Bay. October 2011. Everywhere you look are signs that all around us, danger lurks... To Elsie , William Carlos Williams The pure products of America go crazy— mountain folk from Kentucky or the ribbed north end of Jersey with its isolate lakes and valleys, its deaf-mutes, thieves old names and promiscuity between devil-may-care men who have taken to railroading out of sheer lust of adventure— and young slatterns, bathed in filth from Monday to Saturday to be tricked out that night with gauds from imaginations which have no peasant traditions to give them character but flutter and flaunt sheer rags—succumbing without emotion save numbed terror under some hedge of choke-cherry or viburnum— which they cannot express— Unless it be that marriage perhaps with a dash of Indian blood will throw up a girl so desolate so hemmed round with disease or murder that she'll be rescued by an agent— reared by the state and sent out at fifteen to work in some hard-pressed ...

There is a little motorway (of sorts) down near Margate at Dru Point park that includes a host a road signs, lane markings and its very own set of synchronised traffic lights! At present, Henry is pretty good at obeying the road rules, even if he is hesitant to go down the one way side street for some reason.

You heard. In the car park of a bottle shop, Sandy Bay Road, Sandy Bay. September 2011. There's a poem today that you have to read in a thick Scots brogue... The 6 O'Clock News , Tom Leonard 'Unrelated Incidents' - No.3 this is thi six a clock news thi man said n thi reason a talk wia BBC accent iz coz yi widny wahnt mi ti talk aboot thi trooth wia voice lik wanna yoo scruff. if a toktaboot thi trooth lik wanna yoo scruff yi widny thingk it wuz troo. jist wanna yoo scruff tokn. thirza right way ti spell ana right way to tok it. this is me tokn yir right way a spellin. this is ma trooth. yooz doant no thi trooth yirsellz cawz yi canny talk right. this is the six a clock nyooz. belt up.

This is a local street for local people. Nixon Street, Sandy Bay. July 2011. As usual, I was the first in at the office this morning. As I approached the door, key trembling in my hand, little did I know what hellish scene awaited me. Thus, when I press you to employ your mind’s eye, my use of the word ‘scene’ denotes an odorous vista, not one of the aural or visual variety. Imagine four, nay five homeless people with i) no access to bathing facilities; ii) no access to washing facilities; iii) incredibly poor diets and iv) chronic and explosive dysentery. The stench that greeted me this morning can only have resulted from the aforementioned unfortunates, who must have attained access to this office overnight, and suffered the most appalling nights. Every window, door, entrance, exit and Christ-knows what else is open at the moment; but if you’d like, I’m happy to arrange a meeting with you out of office ASAP...

Coming events at Flamingos Bar... Liverpool Street, Hobart. July 2011. If you haven't guessed from the events board above, Flamingos is a happening Tasmanian venue dedicated to the gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender community and their friends and families. I am not sure where they stand with regards to the intersex people - their website was silent on the matter - but one assumes that they would also be made welcome. Their families and friends? Well, that is an entirely different matter.... I like to consider myself extraordinarily broad minded (some of my best friends are furries) and I am very much a supporter of those of us who are natural left footers. Gay marriage? Gays have as much right to be as miserable as anybody else! Indeed, the best and only advice that I have to anyone who doesn’t like the idea of gay marriage is not to marry one. That said, I’m not sure that the Homo High Annual High School Theme Party™ is entirely the best idea, given some of the Palaeolithi...

The question at hand. Russell Street, Sandy Bay. July 2011. Can a heart still break once its [ sic ] stopped beatin... Now, I'm no cardiac surgeon, but if a heart has stopped beating there is a mighty good chance that it already is broken! This reminds me of one of my favourite heartbreak songs that I thought I'd share with you, the Mountain Goats' paean to the dissolution of a marriage, No Children . What I really like most about this one is the almost joyful intensity of the vocal in the celebration of bitterness. As a sucker for a decent lyric, I reckon that this one is a beauty. I mean really I am drowning There is no sign of land You are coming down with me Hand in unlovable hand And I hope you die I hope we both die That's truth and beauty there.

I shudder to think what they found in there...

Only limbs. St Johns Park, New Town. June 2011. My word for the week? flat [ adj. ] ... 7. Lacking interest or excitement ; dull: a flat scenario. 8. a. Lacking in flavor: a flat stew that needs salt. b. Having lost effervescence or sparkle : flat beer. Hard-time blue s, William Waring Cuney Went down home ’bout a year ago things so bad, Lord, my heart was sore. Folks had nothing was a sin and shame every-body said hard time was the blame. Great-God-a-mighty folks feeling bad lost every thing they ever had. Sun was shining fourteen days and no rain hoeing and planting was all in vain. Hard hard times, Lord, all around meal barrels empty crops burnt to the ground. Great-God-a-mighty folks feeling bad lost every thing they ever had. Skinny looking children bellies poking out that old pellagra without a doubt. Old folks hanging ’round the cabin door ain’t seen times this hard before. Great-God-a-mighty folks feeling bad lost every thing they ever had. I wen...

Do you need a parasol to qualify? Bellerive Wharf, June 2011. All GAMBLERS and FANCY WOMEN must sign up with captain? Who decides? What if you change you mind mid-voyage? Will there be a test? I must say, this seems a little heavy-handed in that rollicking hotbed of libertarianism New Orleans! Does it have something to do with their hurricane? How did they end up in Bellerive? So many questions, so little time...