FRESH IN TONIGHT
none of it original to me but too good to not share, so there—
none of it original to me but too good to not share, so there—
Things may get better—
—when people start taking it seriously.
How serious? Serious enough to lead, possibly, to open revolt?
perhaps the olde saying
LET ‘EM STEW IN THEIR OWN JUICE
could be applied to anyone caught breaking the curfew? Cage ’em, feed ’em, give ’em all the booze, pot, and condoms they desire … then let them see themselves out happily exercising their freely-chosen choice.
Either way it might need a return to values that are forgotten. Perhaps the ‘Gimme!’ generation may yet come out strongest—clear the path for a gilded age of youth prosperity.
So I said to Argus, ‘Go forth, preach Truth’!
(a bit sour-puss too, and a broad-spectrum curmudgeon) I’m not meant to fall wildly in love with ten-year-old girls. Now before you sue me, throw dead ducks or pelt me with rotten eggs, have a wee viewing of this—
—and if you don’t likewise—
(Yep, even us atheists have souls) (some of we—so there!).
Please forgive if not quite what you’d like—
Above taken on a walk. The wind-farm is forty kilometres away. The hills beyond, I’m not sure.
Just like anywhere, a field. Southern hemisphere here too, ya know; almost exactly halfway twixt pole and ‘quator.
In Yarrow St in Invergiggle. The Southland Institute of Technology, some of its student accommodation.
In Don Street. Law Courts are just beyond the whimsy, slope of the handle set to local latitude and the brolly part is a star map of when the thing was dedicated.
Currently (or was?) owned by the Sallie Army as accommodation for some of the needy of Invercargill.
A residential street near Queens Park. I took a wee series of this snaps once, trying to catch the seasonal changes. In the end I did’t really get what I was after, so kept just the above.
Just a tiny part of a ‘Scottish’ festival/marching band competition. I love bagpipes, and when they were competing it was something else again … the olde Water Tower in the background; like everything else down here has been officially designated as ‘Earthquake Prone’. In vain I tried to point out the difference between ‘prone’ and ‘risk’ but the local Council knows its own mind. Tourists don’t mind, I guess. In all the years Spouse and I have lived here we’ve felt only one small tremor, so I guess it qualifies. The Council also closedf the Andersen Park Art Gallery for the same ‘reason’ … but I suspect they re trying to concentrate attention into the money-grubbing Central Business District. A half-hearted attempt was made after the Pyramid was closed (the Southland Museum, of course) to relocate that too to the CBD but now there;s talk of possibly maybe perhaps one day re-opening it. In the meantime there are still one or two tuataras (prehistoric lizard things) there; one of which was scoffed by an intruding rat last week.
Here’s another of the Scottie Bandy thingie
And none of these snaps have been edited beyond a little sharpening and cropping.
Below, one of our favourite quickie-coffee places before takeover—
And after …
To our taste, nowhere near as pleasant and now NOISEY! Sheesh, but hey, that’s progress (they tell us.) Convenient, though, and the folks very friendly and obliging. But we still go only in the quieter periods. (I suggested some form of carpeting, as before, but I think the racket actually dissuades lingerers)(certainly keep us out in busy periods)
If these aren’t what you’d like, Ark, let me know. I (we) go to town and around often—and I just love taking snaps.
If just one billion is lots … does this mean there may be oodles more (beings) like us (sort of) out there?
If so we’d better be frantically digging nuclear-bomb shelters all over the place for when the buggers finally do arrive.
to the audience. And ‘play’ is the appropriate word (an ideal fit, in fact). Try this—
“The Ministry of Health has confirmed two women diagnosed with Covid-19 after leaving a managed isolation facility in Auckland did not drive non-stop to Wellington.
Health officials had insisted they did, but Stuff revealed the pair got lost, stopped and met someone.
National’s health spokesman Michael Woodhouse raised the issue in the House on Wednesday …
Oh dear. Until now we kiwis were the unique Grand Ultimate Paradigm of Covid combatting, no? But—
—but we hadn’t allowed for our being the Grand Ultimate Paradigm of goodness, charity, compassion, kindness and mercy. And of course, lack of simple brains … or basic un-common sense.
IF WE HAVE TO GO
into so-called ‘lockdown’ again I imagine it would now have to be enforced by armed troops patrolling the streets. But then again, we are a nation of sheeple … so it’s anyone’s guess. I just leave all to God, who knew what He was doing when He created the universes … and Covid.
so the goververnment needs revenue and we are all desperate for income. So? Do you fancy a quick flight?
“That disembarkment ruined everything I’ve been doing for the last two months. The whole thing flew out the window …”
So don’t ask me—I’m just a dog. Go ask a people … actually, you don’t need ask ’em, just watch ’em. Observe, and as the famous Pogo said, in words to the effect:
In the meantime: the beat goes on, the beat goes onnnnnnn* …
* Sonny & Cher number, from a few years back.
Ref: tourists visiting New Zealand — a quote:
“When tourists come into the country officials should get their cellphone details and they* should be tracking them via GPS.
“They* should also get a number of where they are staying and ring that number three times a day, if they are not there then they should get a $10,000 fine instantly.”
Sourced from: CLICK HERE
Welcome to our Brave New World. Read on … this new notice offered for eye-level display on arrival concourses:
* (‘They’ (above) being the New Zealand Government.)
This sometimes gets resurrected, most recently for me in the HMNZS Otago webbie:
“If you can believe it, it comes from the story where in the 17th century, bales of animal manure were dried and transported by ship. They often got wet during transit and over a period of time gave off methane gas. Any hapless crew who walked into the hold with a naked flame met with a nasty surprise. Thus began the alleged tradition of S.H.I.T. being stamped on the bales, meaning “store high in transit” so that the bales did not get wet whilst in the ships holds.”
—and it reads like a load of stow high etc etc but I still love it. Now, that other naughty word which now is simply another adjective among today’s youngsters* (especially high school girls**)
—or so I was (reliably? The mind boggles) informed.
* I pity them. Demote our naughty words to the rank of common adjectives—what do they have left to swear with?
** Gaggles of which often pass me when hoofing through town.