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notices and features - Date published:
2:00 pm, May 25th, 2012 - 15 comments
Categories: weekend social -
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The current rise of populism challenges the way we think about people’s relationship to the economy.We seem to be entering an era of populism, in which leadership in a democracy is based on preferences of the population which do not seem entirely rational nor serving their longer interests. ...
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Cabbage trees: they drop those short flax-like leaves. They are extremely fibrous, don’t compost any time soon and can’t be mowed or mulched without jamming my domestic weight machinery. I’ve been thinking about it for a while. What can be done with these things?
Tie them up in bundles (use the leaf to tie it) and keep dry. They are absolutely brilliant firelighters, do a much better job than those foam block lighters, saves on too much kindling wood.
Yes, burning. That sounds like fun. Burn ’em!
I’d been thinking, “What would maori have done with them?” Came to the conclusion that:
1) Maori wouldn’t likely be poncing around worrying about leaves mussing up the lawn.
2) They would likely leave them where they were and go fishing.
A lesson to be learned in that, I think.
Maori traditionally used them for ropes, mats, sandals.
Instructions for Maori flax sandals -perhaps adaptable for cabbage tree leaves?
that was such brilliant advice, thank you! I made up about 50 little fire-starting bundles today, and man, do they burn! My source leaves weren’t even especially dry. These will be a future staple in my life. Thanks!
In CHCH, they’re specifically noted as not be able to be placed in the green organics bin, instead they must go into the red landfill bin.
Turn the leaves into “Cabbage Boats” of course. Cabbage Boats are vessels that bad people DO NOT use to come up a river. We know that on dodgy authority. Therefore only good people travel in Cabbage Boats.
QED
ps. Please refer to a suitably qualified marine engineer or master boat builder before trying this out at home.
Desktop Wallpaper
Oh hey, I went to the Auckland observatory/Stardome last sunday night and the astronomer there said it was the best time of the year, of several, to see Saturn right now. Apparently, soon it will begin a tilt on it’s axis. When the edge of the rings are finally pointing at earth we can’t see them from here at all, them being only 80m wide. Interesting facts. As I recall her saying, the whole “planet” is made from gas – you can’t land on it! The only solids are in the belts. Other amazing facts included that Pluto has been downgraded from planet status, probably to cut costs and balance the universal budget.
Worth going there (the stardome, not Pluto) even if, like me, you are not all that into planety things. Nice big comfy chairs that have you staring at the concave screen above, occasional background music by SJD and Solarosa (I think), and generally accessible storytelling about space things. On Tuesdays they have music nights with booze included which could be quite interesting if you are a Floyd or Zepellin fan.
That’s brilliant, I have just applied it as my new wallpaper. (I was getting very bored with the old one.)
Plus, that’s just awesome!
Thank you.
The Road. Crikey, a somewhat dark film as I remember it. Imagine Z for Zachariah, but written by Ernest Hemingway:
“…He lay on the beach near the waves. The sky was blue, a blue he’d never see again. And what of the boy, his mother now dead; as dead as the nigger he’d killed last night with the exploding arrow head. No giant killer now, not even a final bullet. He’d have to take this one cold. What was this madness? Then the world got very big, then very small, then very big. There was so much to see, but now he would not. He was dead.”
(Hemingway wouldn’t match head with dead, twice, but you get the picture. He liked to point out niggers, along with gays, kikes and bitches who wouldn’t sleep with him so I think that’s a fair impression and true to screenplay.)
Imagine dark tragedy, as it would appear inside the mind of the The Last Republican if his Amercian Dream died. Imagine that, with Viggo Mortensen staring off to nowhere, all emaciated and em-bearded and broke. Delightful.
I prefer to think of the end of the world as a happy time with unicorns and stuff.
If you like it that dark and Hemingwayish, try James Ellroy’s The Cold Six Thousand.
Jeez U, Zachariah..the ultimate 70s pot inspired western,,,,now if that could have had a demented Scandie like Viggo, crazy.