dome4

dome4, originally uploaded by gurdyp.

We've moved...

Right, notes from an exile has officially moved you know where.

I can be found here some of the time, too. (Getting a bit greedy with Blogger, aint I?)

And while we're throwing links round willy-nilly, let me indulge in a little nepotism and direct you to the latest post of my little brother. He has some interesting things to say about the law and freedom of speech in the good old US of A. From an insider's perspective, so to speak.

And lastly, this here is good for a laugh.

A slough of despond

Friends, Romans, countrymen...

And all you other jokers.

I fear this may be the end of the line.

I have a deep, seemingly unshakeable weariness in these old blogging bones.

Can't fathom it. Don't understand it. But the fun has gone out of it.

Perhaps I am in the grip of some kind of strange season-recognition disorder (am I still on Southern Hemisphere time?) -- because I feel the need for a thorough spring clean.

I want to give away all my clothes and furniture and sleep on the floor for a while. Banish the clutter. Cut out the static.

I'm sure it won't be the end of all things blog-like. Probably just this blog.

It may well be that you'll find me over here in the not too distant future.

Perhaps I'll be like Bob and come back from my blog hiatus all revved up and lookin' sharp. Although, I'm sure he would respond to that with something along the lines of, "Well, you're good and all, but you're not me."

Which is quite right.

You know what they say, though -- a change is as good as a holiday.

So I'm just gonna sit back for a bit. Take a breather:

Rest assured, however, I'll be keeping an eye on the rest of you clever buggers.

(You know who you are.)

Who would you bomb next...?

In a prime example of the classic Aussie piss-take, an intrepid "reporter" takes to the streets somewhere in the good ole US of A to ask passersby who they would bomb next, given the chance...

via onegoodmove

Make sure to watch closely as they try to find their chosen country on a map.

Think it's rigged?


And Chris from over at Creek Running North, has given it some thought and come up with a sound alternative to Harriet Miers. One that might just satisfy the ultraconservatives. Her name is Sidore.

And she's a looker, too:

This moment...

Change is violence.

Yet nothing stays the same, not for a second.

Is life, then, an immutable process of losing, or of gaining?

We breathe in, and we breathe out, and this is the only constant in our lives -- until it’s not.

This moment is perfect; this moment of perfection thrums through my veins in a song of defiance, exaltation, worship; this moment carries me to the next, where I am already longing for the future. And mourning the past.

Every moment I am grieving.


Every moment is a gift.

The last gasp of summer...

In celebration of the (unseasonably) glorious weather we've been having this week -- and in keeping with the musical theme of late -- I've compiled some favourite old tunes as a sort of fond farewell to the sunny season....


Luis Vargas -- Tranquila

If you can listen to this a few times and not start singing along, and/or tapping your toes, then you're dead. Sorry. Made to be played loud -- in the car, on a scorching hot day, with all the windows down...



Metric -- Dead Disco

Horribly, horribly catchy. Worse than the Asian bird flu.




Salmonella Dub -- Slide

Classic slice of good kiwi dub. Think: sunnies, beers and barbies.





Cat Stevens -- Bitterblue

I loved this album as a kid. How is it possible that this song can still sometimes make the hair on the back of my neck stand up ?



And as Vila writes so beautifully over here, these warm, gentle days are a balm, but the end of summer brings its own kind of sorrow, and a quiet longing...



Junior Boys -- Teach me how to fight






Mylo -- Emotion 98.6

Couldn't get elected to a town council...

I got a kick out of this tart little letter to Time from a peeved Londoner:

Matthew Cooper, in his article about President Bush's mishandling of the Katrina disaster [Sept, 12], noted, "In a crisis he can act paradoxically, appearing -- almost simultaneously -- strong and weak, decisive and vacillating, Churchill and Chamberlain." Please stop comparing Bush to British Prime Ministers. If Bush lived in Britain, he could not get elected to a town council.
That's a fact.

JAVAD MAHDAVI
London