Not a typo,

they tell me, just a change in orthography—

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—evolution at it’s damnedestbest!  (From a Dublin work pub’d in 1747)






with an up-to-date


giphyor printed whirly ball on a stick that we call a ‘globe’?

All it can give you is a brief glimpse of the current situations—physical and political—and they are transient anyway. (Any religion claiming that there is no permanence has it spot on, no?)

So in brief here’s a wee thought for you:

“It’s among more than a dozen other dated cave paintings on Sulawesi that now rival the earliest cave art in Spain and France, long believed to be the oldest on earth.

The findings made headlines around the world when Aubert and his colleagues announced them in late 2014, and the implications are revolutionary. They smash our most common ideas about the origins of art and force us to embrace a far richer picture of how and where our species first awoke.”

Read more:

ARGUSAnd now let your mind drift back through the millennia, to a time when sea levels were some four hundred feet lower

… and ponder what we may be missing?* .

And for those of a religious bent—as in ‘Bible’ based—did God sneak down there (on his day off from creating the Creation six thousand years ago) and daub the walls with His very own technique of pre-aged daubing, to test our wavering faiths?


* Given that folks seem to prefer living on, around, or close by the coastlines—you know, fish, surfy beaches, nautical trade (and easier access to Viking diplomacy if so inclined).



“… Good memories from past lives can be awakened and great things can happen. To be able to fly, you must awaken the bird memory. Most people have these memories buried too deep to access. Levitation and flying is our birthright, stresses the Avatar Paramahamsa Nithyananda …”

—I would ask nice man to demonstrate. No, no, Silly Person … demonstrate the flying part is all I ask.

Your link:

down eyeface

… and before you ask, I didn’t watch it.

I just quoted from the guff … my current incarnation is too brief a candle, no?

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(oops, apologies, typo)

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a few weeks back, on a walk out in the countryside (you know how it is—winter, soggy sheep, disconsolate cows and strict grass rationing when they need it most) (raw turnips—yeuch!).


the bugger turns up again as the summer growth dies off to reveal it … not that I wanted my sole back. I no longer believe in soles (aaaah, soles!)

But then I got all metaphorical and philosophicule and stuff:

Is this The Lord revealing to me, in metaphorical or otherwise allegorical form? My prodigal sole returneth, and stuff? And then I thought “Stuff this stuff, Dog—there’s a whole universe out there, so give it away to those who need it and carpe the diem!”


even a satori, no less. But—

—sadly there was no-one around to bite. Dammit, never a witness when ya needs one—so if I wrote a Book of Revelation, who would believe me? All I’d need would be just a first devoted few and ever expanding MLM downlines. Tax breaks too, for Dog’s sake.

Hell, Dog—play ’em right and you too could live in a palace and have a fleet of subscriber-funded jets …

So I went home where The Spouse made me a coffee using the miracle of electricity and piped waters … so join with me in praising Our Lord, from whom all blessings flow!

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“Is this sarcasm, Dog? It doesn’t become you …”


Wag wag wag wag …


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(Image at top courtesy of me—it was the glue shed along with my sole …)



—with grateful gratitude for triggering an exorbitant but wildly enthusiastic ‘WTF’ guffaw. Several in fact. And for making my day … and for these lovely images too—

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Much as I admire what appears to be someone’s idea of a jen-yoo-wine seagoing nautically feasible Ark* I’m forced to ponder—

  • the rudder**
  • those bilge-keels, and
  • the costs involved

—but I’m still oodles impressed.

Why would a vessel with no means of propulsion need a bloody great rudder? UNLESS I’m wrong, of course, and perhaps what appears to be a rudder might in fact actually be the means of propulsion in itself. You know, flap from side to side often enough and the vessel moves forwards?

But bilge-keels? Were they in the blueprints in the Bible, or did the modern replicator think they would be helpful in the next flood—and if Ol’ God left ’em out on the original, surely (although a jealous God~!) He wouldn’t object to someone picking up His ball and running with it?

As for costs … ya gotta sow to reap, no? So any monies sunk (ouch) into this replica would be quickly returned and greatly increased with the passage of time. Investment, pelf be the name of the game, and—

—dinosaurians? Why not … talking miracles as we are, anything goes. (No?)


for reading this far you deserve another ark. This one by a South African and his missus in New Zealand’s southernmost city—finger-pointing-down

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… no bildge keels, no rudder—but complete with dinos (on the boarding ramp). AND you get to look for FREE~! (Beat that, Grant County!)


*   The wee boat (not the notorious atheist prophet)

** Or it could be a naval ram (as made famous by triremes and stuff)



town & around. First though:  I plan on revamping my tired old blog (again, boom boom~!) soon, so these shots will be the last for a few days.

I’ll empty out the old, as in Tennyson’s “—the old order changeth, yielding place to the new etc etc”—and brevity will be my new punchline (SFX: insert muffled snigger here, please*).

HERE’S YER SHOTS  finger-pointing-down

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If you give up …

… it’s the view through a bullet-hole in a wee sign advising the innocent and unwary that

(a)  the bridge is unsafe,


(b)  beyond this point lies a ‘multiple hazard zone’. (I think the holes are the more eloquent warning, myself.)

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This above was a St Johns church—it went out of business recently due to the Laws Of Supply & Demand, and was purchased by the Southern Institute of Technology for repurposing into a vendor of more modern wisdoms. To each his own …


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Work proceeds at great pace in the new K-mart building. This is private enterprise having a public erection whilst the City Fathers are congratulating themselves on having ousted so much private enterprise from the so-called Invercargill Central Business District that it stands a very real chance of going extinct in the meantime.

‘Nuff on that, lest I spit spiders. Will it succeed? To my mind … not a ghost of a chance. Not without huge cash injections from the uncomplaining milch cows (Taxpayers) further down the track—but City Hall has insulated itself well from its own follies. Thank heavens for taxpayers, no?

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And here above is a wee once-was-a-cinema that has been repurposed as a church. (It works both ways, no?)

I’d like to be able to claim the ghostly figure strutting his stuff as a spectre but that’s not in the spirit of veracity—it’s actually an innocent hoofing along behind the mad old dog leaning with both paws around a camera pressed against a glass door.

If churches can be repurposed as centres of science, then why not amusement houses (cinemas) likewise, as centres of un-science, hmm? Or city blocks into follies—


Doomed city block


dodo    dodo    dodo                                   dodo

* Snigger, dammit—not mad guffaws. (And taiho on the hoots too~!)



you’ve heard this one

before (it’s the definition I use of/for ‘Democracy’):

“Democracy is when we go to the polls to elect

our absolute dictators for the next few years”

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And thus far not a squeak of protest, nary a honk of outrage from anyone.

But we do get an occasional bleat of possibly related whimper—

” … has bypassed Congress in order to sell military weapons to Saudi Arabia, a nation who has been attacking Yemen for more than three years, killing more than 10,000 people, mostly civilians, and pushing millions more to the brink of starvation. Both chambers of Congress voted on a bill to end U.S. military support to Saudi Arabia in April, but Trump vetoed the bill.  Now, he chooses to illegally continue sending arms to the Saudis with which they will kill more innocent people.  His rationale is to claim, falsely, that there is an ‘emergency’ with Iran.  There is not, though not for lack of trying on his part, but facts do not seem to matter.  He continues to pander to strongman Mohammad bin Salman, despite the fact that bin Salman ordered the brutal murder of Washington Post journalist Jamal Khashoggi, a fact that seems not to bother Trump in the least.”

—which puts me in mind a vaguely similar bit of a bleat a couple of hundred years ago.*

Don’t mind me—I’m just feeling a bit jaded this morning. It’s raining again and I had to plant emplace a whole bag full of basket fungus thingies The Spouse filched from somewhere. In the rain. I vote we have a vote on rain being held only in the wee small hours of of the morning in future.

Oh, yes … your link for the quote—


—or forever go to the polls. (It means change your future by voting)(for more of the same).


* Don’t you just loooove them National Treasure movies?