[The following is a short story I wrote for the National Portrait Gallery's The Big Chill: Fireside Tales short story and poetry competition. The prompt was the photo below, which was taken in Sydney by Dr Julian Smith some time in the 1940s. Nothing is known about the subject, so entrants were asked to use … Continue reading Winter time ::
When the sea hisses, it speaks, and speech breaks the spell of terror; when it is inert, heaving noiselessly, it is dumb, and seems to brood over mischief. The ocean in a calm is like a sulky giant; one dreads that it may be meditating evil. Moreover, an angry sea looks less vast in extent … Continue reading Marcus Clarke (1846-1881), on the Ocean ::
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=67pkPx24BP8 'Gotcha kid.'
Reproduction, birth, and death are inextricably linked ... The act of coitus, considered not only psychologically but also ethically and biologically, is akin to murder.
Childhood is the most vile and abject state of human nature, after that of death.
What is this formidable Roman army? … [T]he only bond of union among them is fear. And whenever terror ceases to work upon the minds of that mixed multitude, they who now fear, will then hate their tyrannical master.
I've had three blogs prior to this one. None of them exist today. I designed them for specific purposes and named them accordingly. That was their death knell. When I became disinterested in that purpose or felt constrained, the blog went to the glue factory. So when I started 'Swimming with Elephants', my chief desire … Continue reading Why swim with elephants? ::
This machine was my grandmother’s. It would have been my grandfather, though, who kept it in working condition. From what my mother has told me, Thomas Arnold Thomson was fascinated by the mechanics of machinery. If anything in the house broke, Thomas Arnold Thomson’s solution was to purchase a manual explaining how the thing worked … Continue reading Written on my Grandmother’s Typewriter ::