door to the past, perhaps?
door to the future, then?
to the mind, doors that open windows on the workings of ‘thinkers’? The eye sees, the mind boggles and the camera captures—all in all, an alliance made in Heaven.
So, shooting a ‘door’ … what do we actually see? Try these on for size and listen to this curmudgeonous cynic …
Strolling through Winton I noticed that the high hedge had been removed from what once was a nunnery; across the road from Aquinas’s school, no less. Back in the days when the Pope could afford it this outpost of Catholicism may well have been a door into the mechanisms of the human mind (and as a cynical realist I’ve often wondered if some of those garden plants aren’t growing atop little piles of …). Moving on—
Ol’ Beadle probably popped off a hundred years ago but his legacy lasts in the form of his fortifications in this somewhat insalubrious alleyway. State of the art commerce, once, now another door to the past.
All good stuff and doubtlessly some oaf with a sledgehammer will be coming through sometime to ‘develop’ this street—in accordance with yet another City Hall ‘vision’ at taxpayer (who else?) expense. Yuk. Ya don’t believe me? Read on for elucidation …
The ‘Central Business District’ of Invercargill—the deep south’s answer to Auckland’s Queen Street. Yeah, right.
This complexed* ‘city’ (50,000 souls on a good day) is decaying and arguably dying. It is widely spread out with no actual heart. The Council (city hall) folks keep throwing taxpayers’ funds at dreamy-eyed improvements (a lot like taking a decaying decrepit elderly dying old dried up spent cow along to the vets to have tooth implants, tail transplant, horn polish and udder gilding—at anyone else’s cost). I’ll cover this subject in depth sometime, but meanwhile it cost the local taxpayers some twelve million bucks (so far) for that little pansy garden, removal of a few bollards and (the shoppies love this~!) loss of much convenient on-street car parking … all the doors open out onto what’s left of this one-way road, wherein people will gather in fun-filled family groups to enjoy a lovely Parisian lifestyle boulevard …
WE WILL CLOSE
this depressing post with a shot of another stroke of City Hall genius. This below was (just a few years back) a thriving busy two-way street, until the Council thought it needed improving. They made it one-way, good start, and then hosted competitions to further raise funds for this lovely … umbrella? … thing. It’s right outside the law courts where the not-yet convicts gather to smoke (heavily) and discuss ladies whilst awaiting their call—
—there’s a real estate sign on the ground floor of the CUE building there, suggesting ‘ideal place for a cafe’ … yeah, sure it is.
all is not lost. City Hall has plans to improve this street too … that lovely umbrella will be relocated to improve traffic flow and the one-way will revert to being two-way once more. Ya just gotta keep improving! No?
Have we opened some doors, here? A bit of a challenge sometimes …
* Inferiority complex. Writ huge, in fact the definitive paradigm thereof (bigger and better than anyone’s) …
theme for the day, seeing that it’s relevant—
and there are many of them, which is only to be expected ‘cos in God’s house (houses? hice?) there are many mansions. Certainly there are in Invercargill, though half of them seem to have closed their doors. For ever and ever, amen.
IN THE COURSE
of my perambulations today I strolled once more by this wee edifice. And yes, it’s official—you really are looking at a million bricks here. (They mentioned it in the Southland Times recently when the acting proprietor opened the shack to the public). Normally they only open bits of it, and then mostly on Sundays, or for celebrations like funerals and such like.
ON THE WAY BACK
from picking up a new secateurs (bust me others whilst savaging the roses) (they savage me right back, no quarter asked or given—pruning our roses is always a question of survival of the fittest) I stopped and grabbed some door shots of God’s home en passant. I don’t know if He was in or not—I called out but there was no reply so I just got my shots and hope no offence given or taken.
I got an outside shot too, just for interest ‘cos it was also a door (and thereby legal for this week’s Challenge). The very hard unidirectional mid-winter southern lighting plays merry hell with exposures and stuff but I think that was just a divine joke—He knew fifteen billion years ago that I’d be here today so made sure of catching me on the hop. It worked, too …
SO I BIMBLED
along to another Godly house. This one started life as a cinema—the doors used to burst open at the end of the show and crowds would swarm out through them onto the street, addicts frantically lighting up for the puffs that were/are illegal in New Zealand cinemas but for some reason were perfectly legitimate in British—
—a non-smoker myself I used to make do with peppermints, the tiny ones with the big cold bite. Brrr.
I TOOK OTHER DOORS
in some of God’s other houses too, but rather than do the theme of the challenge to death I move on to this one caught in passing—it’s the door to one of the Southern Institute of Technology’s buildings in Tay Street. All very reflective, which makes a bit of a mockery of the sign that someone had stuck on the inside facing outboard. For all I know a warning against smoking, perhaps …
AND JUST A FEW
hundred camel strides west, the Civic Centre/theatre, a lovely building (sadly very earthquake prone now, I believe) whose main entrance looks like this—
—so next time the Saint asks about the ‘glories of yesteryear’ you’ll have a handle on what he’s about.
But if we’re into glories (and the concomitant happy and glorious) herewith below is a shot which I shall explain after you’ve dutifully perused it. Culture? This is an object lesson in culture, an anthropological study that you may find impossible to relate to (unless Australian) (but face it, even they are more couther than us).
Not many years ago in New Zealand the bars—almost always hotel bars (the boutique thingies of today were completely unknown) (and the concept incomprehensible to New Zealanders)—were almost all like this.
Clones: one huge room with one looooong bar running the length, many stand-up little tables(?) to rest elbows and jugs on, no women, and harassed ‘bar tenders’ with little metal guns on the end of hoses running up and down frantically filling anything shoved in front of them. Jug was the order of the day, and an eight ounce glass considered the man-sized biggie—most customers had the ‘quaff in a single gulp‘ fives.
People (okay, men) would stop work at five in the afternoon and hot-foot it to the nearest pub with the sole intention of guzzling as much as they possibly could before being thrust out at six through those little angled doorways. A bell (much like a souped-up electric school bell) would ring out over all the racket at about ten minutes to six and frantic would then become indescribable — not for nothing was it known as the “six o’clock swill“. Here’s a piccie I just pulled in by Googling ‘six o’clock swill’ — make of it what you may:
‘Nuff said … or maybe not, I just pulled in this one too …
Anyway, my shot above is one corner of the street frontage of the Grand Hotel in Dee Street, at which HM the Q and the D of E spent a night back in the fifties. Whether they ever made it down to the Public Bar I have no idea but I suspect not.
Credit where it’s due, the new(ish) owners of the place are gradually doing it up, and last time I strolled past that door it was partially open. I could see in, it’s being revamped into what looks like it may become an attractive and cosy little boutique bar. The swillers simply wouldn’t believe it …
a shop on Dee is closing up ‘cos the owner is retiring. When I strolled by the doors were shut for the night but I fell wildly in love with this vision (thank heavens for the polariser)—
—I admit to having no idea what she is or represents but it appeals to me.
I hope the proprietress lady gets a good sale for her business and that the new folks keep it on, there’s lots of interesting nooks and crannies in there. Some very intriguing chess sets and strange knitted hats from the weirdest of places, tiny bells that go ‘tink’ in the breeze and things with dragons every other which way; some of which are said (darkly) to provide doorways into other realms—but I didn’t snap any of those (not sure if they’d meet the criteria of the weekly photo challenge) …
the time to celebrate FREEDOM and LIBERTY in
THE LAND OF THE FREE
… boom boom~!
In the meantime (in between all the bunting, parades, rockets glaring redly, and ‘National Treasure’ parts 1 and 2 going viral) …
WE HAVE THIS QUOTE
make of it what you will. Fit it into your purview of your world-view (mostly as prescribed, no?) as you see fit—
The bill would make it virtually impossible for California children to attend daycare or get a school education without receiving more than 40 doses of 10 federally recommended vaccines or filing a medical vaccine exemption granted by a medical doctor.
If the bill is made law, parents and their children will pay a hefty price. As Dr. Pan stated on his Facebook page2 on June 9:
“it is time for all state legislatures to step in… Yes, parents have the right to refuse vaccination for their children, but to protect other parents’ and children’s rights, these families must then accept the consequences of their decision: no admittance to public preschool, school, college, or workplace. [Emphasis mine]
That’s right; unless you vaccinate your child, he or she will be denied a school education from preschool through college. You’ll have no option but to homeschool …
Forty doses, and all free* at taxpayer expense? Wow!
And if your anti-social little git of a kid don’t get no jabs—well, we (we who allow you your Rights) (don’t forget) will make damn’ sure the wee sod can’t damage the vaccinated~!
IT MAKES SENSE TO ME
‘cos I too love Truth, Justice, Freedom and the Liberty ‘all rights to the individual‘ Way!!
IN THE MEANTIME
it’s coming up Independence Day—time for all good citizens to dust off the ol’ Red, White, and Blue; to go all weepy eyed with hand on heart and to see who whose good patriotic little
victims kiddies can out flag-pledge all the others. Gold stars to the winners (they go well in street-facing windows—show up the neighbours~).
DISCLAIMER C/W QUOTE
First I’ll admit I haven’t yet read the whole article. Spouse wants me to take her shopping and as an MCP I know my place—
And, it sounds like Dr. Pan is not going to be content with preventing children from getting an education but is also going to lobby to deny employment to adults unwilling to comply with federal vaccine recommendations.
How can this occur in America, “land of the free”?
and here’s the source: click here
FOR SOME REASON
this lot made me think of a blog I visited just this morning. Why it should remind me, I have no idea—
to visit that blog: click here, or forever wonder …
—perhaps you may be able to tell, and elucidate this dum dog. (I think it’s something to do with philosophy and critical thinking and edjucated stuff. And that’s the Bible truth …)
* There’s that word again. They seem to like it a lot …
the dum’ dog reads from NME propaganda sheets—and credits stuff where he thinks it
—so plough on and see what you think. (For the source, look to the ‘Comments’ section below.)
“We are not any longer a sovereign state in the European Union. Over 80 percent of all essential legislation is being imposed by Brussels, not by elected commissioners. In our view, Europe is not a democracy. The European Parliament does not even have legislative powers,” …
An independent Austria, the committee believes, would gain an extra €9,800 ($10,900) per household per year, because the country will be freed from the burdens of EU bureaucracy …
How straight does a banana have to be? What is the shape and size of an EU approved cucumber—and how many millions were ditched for failing to meet EU ‘standards’?
Don’t ask me, I’m just a dum dog. Ask the most clever, intelligent, educated and good looking person you know …
AND IN THE MEANTIME
ponder all conceivable meanings of the word ‘sucker’ (complete with any possible applications to your own situation and/or circumstances. But if you live in a modern Western Democracy, it doesn’t really concern you at all, does it? Boom boom~!
(hey-hey, how ’bout that—offended everybody in a few well chosen simple words.) Can a country default? Damned if I know, it’s all Greek to me …
let’s get down (as the guy says in Disney’s Mulan) to business.
Herewith below be your quotes—and this time, no source will be given. If you want to know who said it and where, go Google for yourself (after all, for many the thrill is in the chase, no?* ).
For all the talk and preaching of the risks one takes by placing all their “flags” into the blind faith and trust of one government in the abstract, it’s nothing like witnessing it firsthand.
Greece, right here – right now, is where that all “gets real.”
I’m able to merely observe and participate without worry, sleeping tight knowing that all that what I’ve worked to achieve in his life is out of the reach of supranational, unelected & unaccountable EU autocrats.
I like that. In essence, what he’s saying is that he holds multiple passports—and if one government gets too demanding he can pop over and dwell peacefully in another jurisdiction. (Interestingly he’s a Greek/American**).
As an aside—what happens if Greece and America go to war and both conscript him? If/when they send the thugs around to his house to enforce—does he get to sit on the sidelines with popcorn and enjoy the show whilst they fight like rabid dogs over whose ‘freedom’ he gets to fight for?
* The good news is you don’t always have to eat what you catch (fried fox, anybody?) (Yuk)
** I’ll be willing to bet he won’t be wanting to shift to (say) Argentina (or Zimbabwe) any time soon …