It's not just locals that get the grief. Remember the time Kevin Sorbo copped flak for daring to suggest that it can rain a lot in Auckland?
I suspect that kind of preciousness is simply human nature and won't vanish any time soon. In a panel discussion on ABC Radio Sydney a few years ago, where expatriates compared their experiences of Sydney life, an otherwise impeccably polite American dared to suggest the lack of central heating in apartment buildings as a minor negative. The resulting flood of outraged calls from the station's normally urban liberal audience demonstrated that dissing Sydney's sacred climate was up there with advocating pissing on Don Bradman's grave.
...I far prefer some of the more challenging, adventurous bands around, than a bunch of dude-bros.
Dunedin has managed to spawn both varieties since forever. The dude-bro-ish Terls, who once appeared on the same Auckland bill as Toy Love, are barely remembered today.
If this was 1968 or if we were Cool Britannia this whole episode would have been handled differently and no-one would have been made to resign.
what ever the faults of places like Carrington those were not the fault of patients...
I suppose being classified as a "patient" absolves one from most responsibilities, though it's small compensation for the loss of civil liberties. Back in the Oakley Hospital era there was a pair of long-term male inmates who'd managed to acquire staff uniform neckties. Visitors and patients who ventured into the more secluded parts of the grounds were at risk of petty harassment from these unconvincing pests, who took the opportunity to throw their weight around once they were away from official oversight.
Ive tried pulling out the iPhone, instead of a cigarette, but it’s unsatisfactory.
There's an app for that. Well, sort of.
He’s dyslexic, and he knows that this big public display of news paper reading, is theatre.
I once saw a woman in an outdoor cafe drawing in a sketchbook. She quickly spotted me pretending not to look and, to my surprise, proudly held up her work for my perusal. That's when the real surprise kicked in. She'd produced a head and shoulders portrait of a German shepherd in finely rendered blue ball point. Instead of drawing from life she was working from memory.
I must have paid her work a suitable compliment, because she went on to flip through her sketchbook to reveal a whole bunch of earlier variations on the same picture. "I think they're the only breed that really look like dogs, don't you?" she said, smiling proudly.
Reading all the about page leaves me wondering which of what they publish is real news, and what’s been manufactured to order.
Wondering if it's a wise move on the Spinoff's part to run a picture of what purports to be their actual production line. A bit like hot dogs, knowing how they're made can kill your enthusiasm for the end product.
The Dim Post link will take you to the same place.
Later, I shall post photos of abandoned American shopping malls.
Everything's getting hoovered up by The Spinoff.
...a bit of retro synth-pop...
That looks like the Kraftwerk pic that NME ran at the time of their late 70s London show, with the caption "This is what our fathers died to save us from".