The folks upstairs
I do not like the folks upstairs I do not like their fancy airs I do not like their heavy tread I do not like their squeaky bed I do not like their screams...
Because it's just not that simple
I do not like the folks upstairs I do not like their fancy airs I do not like their heavy tread I do not like their squeaky bed I do not like their screams...
Here I am, a not old woman in a dry month, Browsing #auspol on Twitter, waiting for rain. I was neither at the protest marches, Nor raised my voice at change.org. Nor knee deep in...
I watched the whole US Presidential debate this morning (AWST). I was supposed to be working (it’s OK, I didn’t bill anyone for the time), and I don’t even live or have a right...
On Q&A last night I watched the superb Professor Brian Cox demolishing Malcolm Roberts on climate change denial. And today there has been an absolute flurry of new data and science commentary continuing to reinforce...
Some 25 years ago (!) my Arts Honours dissertation was accepted. Its subject was”Death and Need in Naked Lunch”. The basic hypothesis was that William Burroughs (the author of the banned novel, Naked Lunch)...
Live Below the Line (LBTL) seems a worthy cause, but is it more than a cute fundraiser? I decided to field-test the idea that you can actually feed yourself in Australia on $2 a day. First I...
I was recently introduced to the theory of abiogenic petroleum origin. Adopting the Facebook dogma that mere ignorance of a subject should not prevent one from expressing strong opinions about said subject, I thought I would...
In early 2001, I spent six weeks working in Manchester as part of a public transportation project. It was not the most joyous time of my life. Manchester was dank, dirty, occasionally flooded, and possessed...
I spent quite a lot of time today mournfully reflecting on the deeply disappointing state of political discourse as it operates just now. About the ludicrously littoral state of the discussion: meaning not benthic,...
I have recently been bothered by a plethora of homilies that seek to bluntly denigrate a number of anomalies that punctuate the (mostly) equilibrium of the weather, and they’ve led me since to ask...
Young Mr Stoker, Re-insurance broker, often dreamt of the stars. More precisely, though not quite so nicely, He dreamt of the endless shoals of risks That danced and whirled about them. Visions of tranches,...
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