At first it was thought as the only possible solution. They were surpassing us in ways we could never have anticipated, and so it was released. 

In doing so they killed their only hope.



Botro Janin.








Botro Janin

this is earth base 65692 come in Botro Janin

are you there Botro?


-Fuck!! its got him too. That’s its then, it’s all over.

Things about city living I thought i’d never miss.

Several years ago I was dragged kicking and screaming to the city to live. I grew up in regional/country Victoria (A southern state of Australia, Melbourne being our capital) and was not a big fan of the city. But after a period of adjustment and a handful of concrete pills, I started to enjoy it (city living) for what it was. Now we have moved back to the country, way out of town on 10 acres. Our own little farmlet. It is awesome, space, peace, wildlife and on and on and on. 


I find myself missing things from the city I thought I’d never. Little things, big things all kinds of crazy things. Here’s one.

Street Lights.


Street lights are cool because they help you to see where you are going. When it rains their light reflects off the road and looks nice. In the gaps between there are shadows in which scary things can lurk. If your going for a run and feel like giving up and stopping you can push yourself on by saying just until the next street light. 

The man who mistook his life for a hat.

Picture this you are a caveman or women. A hunter gatherer living in the wilds type, animal skin wearing and club wielding. At night you lounge around the fire with your family group close by. Everyone else is asleep. You are being lulled by the flicker and warmth of the fire and yet you remain awake. You sense a subtle change in the wind direction that usually foretells bad weather approaching, this time it brings with it a scent. First your nose hairs stand then the hairs covering your body all join in. There is something afoot. Somethings out there. Perhaps a saber-toothed tiger (insert any scary type animal) is silently stalking your group, hanging back beyond the glow of the fire waiting for an opening to launch and drag their prey away. Your fingers wrap around the shaft of your spear and you slowly raise yourself to your feet, ready. But it is over before it begins, the threat senses your awareness and moves along in search of easier prey. You have survived another night. You don’t get much sleep but your genes are that much closer to making it to the next generation.

This proves that being aware of your surroundings is a good thing, right?

In situations like the one described above it was those who were switched on and tuned in who stood a better chance of staying alive than the hapless sod who drifted off into a cosy sleep. How many such situations exist today? Not many, if any for those of us who dwell in modern towns and cities. So what does this evolutionary trait do for us today? The short answer is that it keeps us alive, just like it has always done. The long answer is, well, long.

Switching on, switching off.

We have spoken of being switched on and tuned in, being thus has kept us alive. But what if we are to flip the coin and look at switching off and tuning out, where does this lead us and is it equally important to our survival? We all enjoy coming home after and long day and just vegging out and switching off. There is so much stuff going on in our lives and in the world around us, that anyone who can navigate through it without having to veg out fairly regularly is super human in my book. What is it that we generally do during this down time? Watch TV or check Facebook etc etc. (CUE SPOOKY VOICE OVER AND BACKGROUND MUSIC) We enter into a relaxed and highly suggestive state and then soak up what the media spews at us. A trip to the supermarket revels much about our level of involvement and engagement with media, take for example the 2-Minute noodle section. Traditionally a open, pour, wait, scoff, type of affair.

I noticed recently that some are now are offering an experience. Carefully, as instructed, open and add the not quite boiling(Sometimes when I am proof reading I stop and think, what is this shit all about? Who is writing this? But it passes)water for 2 minutes then add the first flavour sachet and then the second which contains seasonal vegetables. Bon Appetit. These few more steps don’t take much effort but they bring with it the feeling of having contributed to the project, makes us believe we are cooking, just like on Masterchef. Well, maybe a little. This is how our daily dose of media coverage feels at times, a blend of tradition and new media carefully scripted, edited and sculpted to ensure we get all the facts accurately all within a 15 second sight and sound bite. A 15 second grab, hundreds of times.

The print media plays a slightly different song, Evie parts 1,2,and 3 to LMFAO’s Sexy and I know it. Sitting down in brew sheds all over the country, construction workers have smoko (aussie slang for morning tea or brunch) and read the newspaper. In recent times this has been to read about “our Jill”. I wont go into the particular story (Google it if you need its a sad tale.) We sat and got angry at the injustice that this bright and beautiful young lady could be snatched off the street minutes from home only to be found(seriously Google if you want details). What I am getting at is we were angered, whipped into a frenzy and at the same time cuddled and heartened. We read about it in the paper, heard it on the radio and contributed to the discussion on Facebook and Twitter. We were involved. Sorta. Kinda. Whatever it feelings our involvement brings, it does evoke something that causes a reaction and though that reaction informs our actions. We act and think as a mob, and mob actions rarely rely on anything that could be considered reason.

So to circle back to the main discussion point what role does our awareness play?(Even I wasn’t sure when or how this would happen) Can we be aware of this deception? Or is it so subtle and sophisticated so as to fly under our radar. Indeed fly low sweet chariot bring with you your load of steaming and sweet bull shit . Your humble narrator seems to be aware of these machinations and many of you, my esteemed reader would be too but does that make us any less susceptible? We too are swept along with the waves of social media, although we might fancy that we are on board a surfboard or at very least buoyed by our floaties. Just as it was crucial to the survival of our cavemen cousins to be switched on and hyper aware, has the pendulum swung to the point that a desensitization to the stimuli that constantly surrounds us is equally important to us.

Are we arriving at a point in our evolution where switching off will prove to be the key to propagating our genes?

Man Dates, Lamb Cutlets and Unlikely Friendships

As we all do, I bitch about my job. It sucks and I would much rather be occupying my time with other pursuits, as you who have viewed a few of my posts will no doubt know.  That being said, I have to work, just like we all do.  To list a hundred reasons why my job sucks meaty balls would be all too easy.  To find ten reasons why it is actually pretty cool is another thing entirely. I say ten, because there are of course many positive aspects of mine and any one else’s job. I wish to speak about just one.

You can’t judge a book by its cover nor, I believe, can you judge a persons character the first moment you meet them. I concede that sometimes we meet people to whom we feel an instant attraction or repulsion. However it has been my experience that this is seldom the end of the story and I love a good story.

For the past six or seven years I have worked in the construction industry as a steelfixer.  I place and tie the reinforcing steel that is used in nearly all modern building as most modern buildings are made out of reinforced concrete. I am a steely. Apparently in America (I am Australian) they are called iron-workers, which I think is pretty cool. Perhaps the subject of another post could be an exploration of the cultural differences in job titles and the slang or jargon associated.

Working as I do in construction means that I travel about following the work and while I don’t travel interstate or overseas I do travel widely in the region that I live. (The state of Victoria and region of Gippsland) When I lived in the state capital, Melbourne, I could work on four or five different job site at any given time. Spending a few days here or there. This could span a period of a couple of weeks up to a year or more depending on the length of the project.  During this time you meet allot of people, all kinds of folk with all kinds of stories.

I have met teachers who trained for four years at university and who after teaching for a couple of years wanted a job without such a burden of responsibility and ended up tying steel.  Monstrous Cook Islanders who, if rumors are to be believed, once killed a man with a single punch.  The type of bloke you would not wish to meet in a dark alley.  Yet kind and gentle, a gun on the keyboard and drums forming part of the rhythm section in a christian R&B band. Classically trained musicians whose drinking far exceeds any known “safe” levels and yet whose jobs run smooth and true with none of the usual mistakes, hiccups or delays.

Along with the sharing of stories, which  is what makes my job interesting, there are the unlikely friendships that are formed. Working together with people who outside of the context of work there would be no conceivable reason for your paths to cross.  Thrown together day after day these friendships develop through the stories told.

I must run now and get to work, to hear and write the next chapter.

P.S.  Hi Cal!

Visit to GREENworks PRESS

Visited GREENworks PRESS last Saturday. Pictured are my daughter Matilda holding her first ever print, a lino cut.  On the right is the lovely Kate Zizys, who runs GREENworks PRESS. Check out her site then head on down to the studio, whether you are an experienced printmaker or a complete novice, Kate has the skills to make sure you leave with a great print.

Macy's great chase

Reading from right to left, Macy (one of our dogs) is sitting under a tree. She spots a kangaroo. Then gives chase. (The lines behind Macy are there because she is moving so fast). In the final frame (far left) Macy has caught the kangaroo.