Sunday Sonnet.

This was the sonnet that would have gone up on Christmas Eve. Which would have been wrong. XXVIII But oh t not Lovely Helen, nor the pride Of that most ancient Hium matched with doom. Men murdered Priam in his royal room And Troy was burned with fire and Hector died. For even Hector's dreadful … Continue reading Sunday Sonnet.

Virtue signals are no way to live (Last Sunday of the Year).

We needed a coffee after church, and it was not the pastor's fault. During the service, someone had prayed for others for ten minutes, starting in Maori, and descending into incoherence. The wife felt crushed. I noted he was virtue and piety signallying The sermon was superb. from an intern, who ended up in tears … Continue reading Virtue signals are no way to live (Last Sunday of the Year).

The ancient pink pill.

The advice for young women, here in a poem, should not have changed. Let you be beautiful. Let you be as innocent as a dove. But be guarded. Or wily as a snake. For there are snakes on two legs, and you can marry well once. So nail that landing. To the Young Gentlewomen BEWARE, … Continue reading The ancient pink pill.

Doing good regardless

There was a band playing at the pub a couple of nights ago, and one of the twits ripped up a street sign and deposited it outside our crib [1].. All three of our boys game: they generally trash talk in Russian because the Antipodes servers are faster from Vladivostok. than the American ones. And … Continue reading Doing good regardless

Pray more [Democracy is a dinosaur].

As this year stumbles towards its inevitable decline and the summer holidays start in the Antipodes, many journals and blogs are reflecting on the year. As if things will change in 2018. What is clear is that we are in a generational crisis, and this does not follow neat divisions in time. The pressure is … Continue reading Pray more [Democracy is a dinosaur].

Opoids and Millstones.

One of the odd things about my trade is that I spend a bit of time doing detoxification, and I should not do this. The substance abuse disorders have their own system in New Zealand and their own acts: you cannot use the mental health act for addiction treatment. This was driven (along with a … Continue reading Opoids and Millstones.

The Blackbird and the Hack

I am told that this is a famous poem. But I had never read it: my education did not include the American Poets and the Imperial poets, such as Kipling were considered suspect. We were expected to like hacks like Mayakovsky, not successful insurance lawyers who wrote with clarity. Thirteen Ways of Looking at a … Continue reading The Blackbird and the Hack

The love of the brotherhood.

What are the commands of Christ? How are we to obey? The rules are simple, but they are terrible. Like all important parts of this life, you can pare them down to a few words. Love the LORD your God, with all your heart and mind and strength Love your neighbour as yourself Love your … Continue reading The love of the brotherhood.

The stench.

I am no saint. I have done enough. That includes reading basically everything. But fandom has always left me cold. I'm not quite that weird: I have never liked dressing up, and I have never enjoyed being in a big crowd. Particularly if access to showers is limited. I prefer to interact with such down … Continue reading The stench.

St Stephen’s Day.

Today is Boxing Day, which in the Antipodes means that there are two cricket tests starting, one in New Zealand and one in Australia, and the Sydney to Hoabart yacht race. It was the day when the servants were given gifts, and it is one of the 12 days of Christmas, for The season of … Continue reading St Stephen’s Day.