#it's 1am in australia and i am going to post this and pass out

[thedevillionaire]

Chosen

Much shorter than it has any right to be, given how long it's taken me to actually finish. Plot? Uh, no, not really. But anyhow... She's been away. He's been unwell.

---

He looks at her like she’s the most welcome hallucination he’s ever had.

Kia closes the door slowly behind her as she takes in this chaos of a makeshift apothecary, the loungeroom in an utter state of disarray and her beloved not faring much better, red-nosed and unshaven and dressed in a black silken pyjama and robe ensemble which, while inarguably stylish, was very definitely not his usual late afternoon wear.

And not at all what she had been expecting to come home to.

A miscellany of potions and concoctions and gods-know-what-elses lie scattered across the coffee table. A teacup, mostly empty. Two tissue boxes, one apparently even emptier than the teacup. Some sort of book...no, manual. Looks instructional. A wilderness of failed curatives.

Oh my god.

She walks further into the room. The air smells of menthol and embers.

“Babe, what are… Are you… What have you even been doing h…?”

You absolute beautiful total disaster.

“Trying not to… hh-HH …let thi…this-damn-cold…” Cerberus turns from her as his sentence dissolves, the syllables collapsing against one another in a desperate rush to give way to greater need and deep breath of purpose, and he raises a finger in urgent, undeniable pause. "Huh-TSSCH-uu!" Hurriedly claiming a series of tissues in a brief, expectant hiatus, he surrenders completely and sneezes again. "Hh-AATSCHH-uu! *snff-FF!*" A quiet groan in the aftermath. He excuses himself, adds another tissue to the set, blows his nose and immolates the lot. "Pardon me." He sighs. "Trying not to let this godsdamned cold win,” he manages, with an accompanying sharp sniffle. Neither heavy congestion nor the way his voice cracks slightly lessens any of the seething distaste in his tone.

“Oh, honey.” Kia brushes some errant hair back from his face. :Bless you.: She touches a tender kiss to his temple. “You’re getting your ass kicked.”

She offers him a soft smile to hopefully lessen a little bit of truth's sting. "C'mon, shift over," she says gently as she joins her beloved on the couch, nestling up beside him, resolutely ignoring every caution he tries to give her advising against doing so. Notably half-hearted as those cautions are.

Because while it’s true that he very much doesn’t want her to catch this, he’s also well aware it’s more than likely already too late for such concerns. The entire house is probably some sort of incubation epicentre. And, sincerity of expressed warnings aside, the entire sorry vista surely constitutes warning enough. He's fairly certain he couldn't look more biohazardous if he tried.

Cerberus sighs again, sniffling again immediately afterwards, and gives his bonded a look of resignation.

Further elaboration hardly seems necessary.

But also he doesn’t press the issue because in truth the last thing he wants is to send her away. He’s not even sure he has the energy to insist on it, anyway; he’d be infuriated about this entire ridiculous circumstance if he wasn’t so damn exhausted. So, small obligatory protests done, with another damp sniffle Cerberus shifts some disarrayed blanketry out of the way and wraps an arm around Kia’s waist, drawing her close.

Her soft perfume of violet, strawberry and vanilla is lost on him anywhere outside of memory right now, but her presence is more than enough and he closes his eyes for a moment, just appreciating the simple fact of her being here beside him at last; he's missed her immensely, constantly.

“You know, you could’ve just asked me to come back, if you wanted me here,” Kia muses as she nestles further into his heat, adding, “It wouldn't have been a big deal,” without accusation. She leans her head against his shoulder and looks up at him with gentle azure gaze, her unspoken thoughts of I’d always choose you. How do you still not know that? readable despite her not voicing them.

And he does, of course, know that – in fact, it’s the very reason he wouldn’t ask. Cerberus sniffles thickly, wiping his nose. “Ah, love. I'd hardly ask you to put yourself anywhere near this—" He gestures around the room in a general presentation of contempt for the whole situation. "—vortex of infectious absurdity,” he concludes, thick congestion lacing his words. He clears his throat but it doesn’t make any notable impact against the wreckery his voice has become. "And it's about your... *SNFF!* ...your autodoby."

Kia peers at him. “My…what?”

“Your au…” Cerberus, all too aware that several critical consonants are unequivocally not working for him, rolls his eyes at himself. Honestly. Taking another fresh succession of tissues from a very rapidly depleting supply, he blows his nose forcefully but completely ineffectively.

He excuses himself once more and tries again; it goes equally badly.

Kia, baffled, raises her hands in a friendly but very clear nope sorry babe no idea expression, accompanied by a gentle little laugh that she just can’t help.

A long-suffering and immensely frustrated look comes her way, followed by a resigned, defeated sigh as her beloved entirely gives up. “Free will.”

For a moment, this makes even less sense to Kia. “Why would…” she begins, but cuts herself off in triumphant realisation. “Oh, autonomy!” She laughs. "Oh, sweetheart."

“That’s what I s… hh-hh! I...” And even this is hijacked, and the Demon king capitulates entirely, doubling over desperate into crooked elbow, “Huh-TSCHH-uu! Ah-HEHTSCHuu!” 

He takes some moments of bleary recovery, Kia's heartrate spiking alongside the :Gods, forgive me: Cerberus Mindsends her.

"Oh, bless you, babe." Kia doesn't try to fight the thrill that flashes through her and she wraps herself around her bonded to kiss him again; a kiss deeper, more needful, than is probably wise. But wisdom isn't what she's craving right now.

“You know what? You’re going to stop talking and let me make my own choices.” She brushes a stray lock of hair from his eyes, touches the softest of lingering kisses to his forehead and meets his gaze. :Talking really isn't working out for you anyway.: "And besides—" Another kiss, deeper again, and she presses her arousal against his, salacious, wanton.

:—you know we both want the same thing.:

---

[gyrlversion]

Inside Brenton Tarrants Dunedin lair where he planned his massacre

The Dunedin home where accused terrorist Brenton Tarrant allegedly planned his massacre and wrote his sickening manifesto is a modest rental house with sparse furnishings. 

Police descended on the Anderson’s Bay property, located four-and-half hours south of Christchurch, hours after the shooting Friday night, as nearby residents were evacuated.

Tarrant, 28, had rented the $280 per week house for the last two years, and must have been planning to move out as the place was currently being advertised. 

A couple who live in the apartment adjacent to Tarrant’s home told Daily Mail Australia he was a ‘loner’ who never had visitors, but his rampage came as a complete shock to them.

The pair were barred from entering their home until Saturday evening, after authorities had conducted a thorough search of the 28-year-old gunman’s home. 

A neighbour said Tarrant never had anyone over his one-bedroom apartment, and had never drawn attention to himself.

A killer’s lair: This is the one-bedroom apartment where suspected mass murderer Brenton Tarrant planned his massacre and wrote his chilling 73-page manifesto 

Neighbours described Tarrant as a ‘lovely guy’ but admitted they did not know much about him. Pictured above is the killer’s kitchen  

Tarrant reportedly never had guests or visitors at his one-bedroom apartment and often kept to himself

Tarrant, an Australian national who moved to New Zealand years ago, admitted his plans for his attack in a chilling 73-page manifesto in which he revealed he had been inspired by previous mass murderers

Photos obtained by Daily Mail Australia show the interior of the nondescript home which cost $280 per week, according to a listing. 

The neighbour said she and and her partner had a few friendly interactions with the Australian man, but did not know much about him.

‘We’ve got family up in Christchurch, so we were calling them (to see if they were okay) and then suddenly they’re calling us to say our house was on the news,’ she said.

Another neighbour said he had also never seen anyone coming or going from Tarrant’s home, but said the self-confessed terrorist had always given him a smile and a wave in passing.

The horrific event has left residents of Somerville Street in shock, with one remarking it had helped him meet a lot of his neighbours. 

Police remained at the house well into Saturday morning, with one officer telling Daily Mail Australia authorities were guarding the home 24 hours a day to keep the scene secure. 

Photos obtained by Daily Mail Australia show the interior of the nondescript apartment which cost $280 per week, according to a listing

The horrific event has left residents of Somerville Street in shock

Police swarmed the home on Friday hours after Tarrant recorded himself gunning down dozens of innocent victims at a Christchurch mosque 

Police remained at the house well into Saturday morning, with one officer telling Daily Mail Australia authorities were guarding the home 24 hours a day to keep the scene secure

Overnight, officers were seen standing out the front, armed with large guns, while on Saturday morning they could be seen inside the weatherboard home. 

VICTIMS OF THE NEW ZEALAND MOSQUE MASSACRES

As of 3am AEDT Sunday 

Mucad Ibrahim, 3

Abdullahi Dirie, 4

Sayyad Milne, 14

Khaled Mustafa and his son Hamza, 16 

Naeem Rashid and his son Talha, 21

Ansi Karippakulam Alibava, 25 

Atta Elayyan, 33

Dr Haroon Mahmood, 40

Husne Ara Parvin, 42

Mohammad Imran Kahn, 47

Amjad Hamid, 57

Linda Armstrong, 65

Haji-Daoud Nabi, 71

Lilik Abdul Hamid, unknown age

Ashraf Ali, unknown age

Still missing:  

Vora Ramiz, 28

Farhaj Ahsan, 30

Mojammel Hoq, 30

Abdelfattah Qasem, 59

Ali Elmadani, 66 

Syed Jahandad Ali, 34

Hussain Al-Umari, 36

Osama Adnan, 37

Kamel Darwish, 39

Tarrant, an Australian national who moved to New Zealand years ago, admitted his plans for his attack in a chilling 73-page manifesto in which he revealed he had been inspired by previous mass murderers. 

Tarrant is suspected of killing at least 50 Muslim worshipers during Friday prayer at Masjid Al Noor mosque in Christchurch and livestreaming the massacre online. 

The man said he initially planned to carry out the attack at the Al Huda mosque in Dunedin, the only mosque in the city, but later targeted the two mosques in Christchurch because they had ‘far more invaders.’ 

Fifteen victims have been identified by their family members while a further 60 people remain on the official missing persons list. 

Among those confirmed dead are Palestinian surgeon Dr Amjad Hamid, 57, who had moved to New Zealand with his wife for a better life, and Kuwait futsal goalkeeper Atta Elayyan, 33, who had recently become a father.  

Three-year-old Mucad Ibrahim was also named among the dead after he passed away in the arms of his father and older brother Abdi Ibrahim, who only survived because he played dead.  

Haji Daoud Nabi, 71, Naeem Rashid and his 21-year-old son Talha are among those now named. 

Bangladeshi Husna Parvin, is among those feared dead after she was reportedly gunned down as she tried to save her wheelchair-bound quadriplegic husband from the shooter. 

Abdul Hamid, Khaled Haj Musatafa and Ashraf Ali also among those thought to be dead.

On Sunday, a rainbow of bright flowers, teddy bears, balloons and signs line the fence of the Al Huda mosque. 

On the footpath, colourful chalk spell out messages of support, with some quoting bible verses, others writing ‘you are not alone’ and one person memorialising the man who had opened the door at the Al Noor mosque on Friday afternoon. 

National-level futsal player Atta Elayyan (right) was reportedly killed on Friday. He is being remembered as an ‘inspiration’

Three-year-old Mucad Ibrahim (left) was also named among the dead after he passed away in the arms of his father and brother, who only survived because he played dead. Cardiologist Amjad Hamid (right) was mowed down after moving to New Zealand 23 years ago because he wanted a better future for himself and his wife 

Haji Daoud Nabi (pictured left), 71, a father-of-five and retired engineer, moved to New Zealand from Afghanistan in 1977 and set up a new life as one of the ‘first Muslims in New Zealand’. He is thought to be among the dead. Naeem Rashid (right), from Abbottabad in Pakistan, was hailed a hero after he tried to wrestle the gun from the Christchurch shooter on Friday. But he was badly wounded after sadly died later in hospital 

Cashmere High School student Sayyad Milne (pictured), 14, who was at Friday prayers when the shooting started, is believed to be dead. Although it’s not been officially confirmed, his father has spoken of his loss

Locals said the flowers had begun flowing in about 9am on Saturday morning, and most of the tributes stuck to the fence had appeared overnight.    

 ‘Hello brother’, they wrote above a love heart. ‘we stand together’. 

Another wrote a letter apologising for the atrocities that had taken place. ‘I am so sorry to let you down,’ it read. 

‘This is your country. We will do better for you. Kia Kaha (stay strong)’

Police look on as locals lay flowers and condolences at the Huda Mosque in tribute to those killed and injured on Friday’s shooting, outside the Al Huda Mosque

On Sunday, a rainbow of bright flowers, teddy bears, balloons and signs line the fence of the Al Huda mosque

The footpath was flooded with heartfelt messages written in chalk, with some reading ‘Kia Kaha,’ meaning,’ Stay strong’ 

Locals said the flowers had begun flowing in about 9am on Saturday morning, and most of the tributes stuck to the fence had appeared overnight

On the fence was an all blacks flag, a new Zealand flag and a string of others, including Australia’s. 

‘It’s a shock to everyone. This isn’t what we are all about,’ a policeman who arrived at the mosque on Sunday morning said.

Armed police are guarding tarrants house in Anderson bay 24 hours a day, not wanting to take any chances.

About 1am, two officers were seen standing in the garden outside the darkened home, both holding large guns. 

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[thesnhuup]

Pop Picks – June 11, 2018

What I’m listening to:

Like everyone else, I’m listening to Pusha T drop the mic on Drake. Okay, not really, but do I get some points for even knowing that? We all walk around with songs that immediately bring us back to a time or a place. Songs are time machines. We are coming up on Father’s Day. My own dad passed away on Father’s Day back in 1994 and I remembering dutifully getting through the wake and funeral and being strong throughout. Then, sitting alone in our kitchen, Don Henley’s The End of the Innocence came on and I lost it. When you lose a parent for the first time (most of us have two after all) we lose our innocence and in that passage, we suddenly feel adult in a new way (no matter how old we are), a longing for our own childhood, and a need to forgive and be forgiven. Listen to the lyrics and you’ll understand. As Wordsworth reminds us in In Memoriam, there are seasons to our grief and, all these years later, this song no longer hits me in the gut, but does transport me back with loving memories of my father. I’ll play it Father’s Day.

What I’m reading:

The Fifth Season, by N. K. Jemisin. I am not a reader of fantasy or sci-fi, though I understand they can be powerful vehicles for addressing the very real challenges of the world in which we actually live. I’m not sure I know of a more vivid and gripping illustration of that fact than N. K. Jemisin’s Hugo Award winning novel The Fifth Season, first in her Broken Earth trilogy. It is astounding. It is the fantasy parallel to The Underground Railroad, my favorite recent read, a depiction of subjugation, power, casual violence, and a broken world in which our hero(s) struggle, suffer mightily, and still, somehow, give us hope. It is a tour de force book. How can someone be this good a writer? The first 30 pages pained me (always with this genre, one must learn a new, constructed world, and all of its operating physics and systems of order), and then I could not put it down. I panicked as I neared the end, not wanting to finish the book, and quickly ordered the Obelisk Gate, the second novel in the trilogy, and I can tell you now that I’ll be spending some goodly portion of my weekend in Jemisin’s other world.

What I’m watching:

The NBA Finals and perhaps the best basketball player of this generation. I’ve come to deeply respect LeBron James as a person, a force for social good, and now as an extraordinary player at the peak of his powers. His superhuman play during the NBA playoffs now ranks with the all-time greats, Larry Bird, Magic Johnson, MJ, Kobe, and the demi-god that was Bill Russell. That his Cavs lost in a 4-game sweep is no surprise. It was a mediocre team being carried on the wide shoulders of James (and matched against one of the greatest teams ever, the Warriors, and the Harry Potter of basketball, Steph Curry) and, in some strange way, his greatness is amplified by the contrast with the rest of his team. It was a great run.

  Archive

May 24, 2018

What I’m listening to:

I’ve always liked Alicia Keys and admired her social activism, but I am hooked on her last album Here. This feels like an album finally commensurate with her anger, activism, hope, and grit. More R&B and Hip Hop than is typical for her, I think this album moves into an echelon inhabited by a Marvin Gaye’s What’s Going On or Beyonce’s Formation. Social activism and outrage rarely make great novels, but they often fuel great popular music. Here is a terrific example.

What I’m reading:

Colson Whitehead’s Underground Railroad may be close to a flawless novel. Winner of the 2017 Pulitzer, it chronicles the lives of two runaway slaves, Cora and Caeser, as they try to escape the hell of plantation life in Georgia.  It is an often searing novel and Cora is one of the great heroes of American literature. I would make this mandatory reading in every high school in America, especially in light of the absurd revisionist narratives of “happy and well cared for” slaves. This is a genuinely great novel, one of the best I’ve read, the magical realism and conflating of time periods lifts it to another realm of social commentary, relevance, and a blazing indictment of America’s Original Sin, for which we remain unabsolved.

What I’m watching:

I thought I knew about The Pentagon Papers, but The Post, a real-life political thriller from Steven Spielberg taught me a lot, features some of our greatest actors, and is so timely given the assault on our democratic institutions and with a presidency out of control. It is a reminder that a free and fearless press is a powerful part of our democracy, always among the first targets of despots everywhere. The story revolves around the legendary Post owner and D.C. doyenne, Katharine Graham. I had the opportunity to see her son, Don Graham, right after he saw the film, and he raved about Meryl Streep’s portrayal of his mother. Liked it a lot more than I expected.

April 27, 2018

What I’m listening to:

I mentioned John Prine in a recent post and then on the heels of that mention, he has released a new album, The Tree of Forgiveness, his first new album in ten years. Prine is beloved by other singer songwriters and often praised by the inscrutable God that is Bob Dylan.  Indeed, Prine was frequently said to be the “next Bob Dylan” in the early part of his career, though he instead carved out his own respectable career and voice, if never with the dizzying success of Dylan. The new album reflects a man in his 70s, a cancer survivor, who reflects on life and its end, but with the good humor and empathy that are hallmarks of Prine’s music. “When I Get To Heaven” is a rollicking, fun vision of what comes next and a pure delight. A charming, warm, and often terrific album.

What I’m reading:

I recently read Min Jin Lee’s Pachinko, on many people’s Top Ten lists for last year and for good reason. It is sprawling, multi-generational, and based in the world of Japanese occupied Korea and then in the Korean immigrant’s world of Oaska, so our key characters become “tweeners,” accepted in neither world. It’s often unspeakably sad, and yet there is resiliency and love. There is also intimacy, despite the time and geographic span of the novel. It’s breathtakingly good and like all good novels, transporting.

What I’m watching:

I adore Guillermo del Toro’s 2006 film, Pan’s Labyrinth, and while I’m not sure his Shape of Water is better, it is a worthy follow up to the earlier masterpiece (and more of a commercial success). Lots of critics dislike the film, but I’m okay with a simple retelling of a Beauty and the Beast love story, as predictable as it might be. The acting is terrific, it is visually stunning, and there are layers of pain as well as social and political commentary (the setting is the US during the Cold War) and, no real spoiler here, the real monsters are humans, the military officer who sees over the captured aquatic creature. It is hauntingly beautiful and its depiction of hatred to those who are different or “other” is painfully resonant with the time in which we live. Put this on your “must see” list.

March 18, 2018

What I’m listening to:

Sitting on a plane for hours (and many more to go; geez, Australia is far away) is a great opportunity to listen to new music and to revisit old favorites. This time, it is Lucy Dacus and her album Historians, the new sophomore release from a 22-year old indie artist that writes with relatable, real-life lyrics. Just on a second listen and while she insists this isn’t a break up record (as we know, 50% of all great songs are break up songs), it is full of loss and pain. Worth the listen so far. For the way back machine, it’s John Prine and In Spite of Ourselves (that title track is one of the great love songs of all time), a collection of duets with some of his “favorite girl singers” as he once described them. I have a crush on Iris Dement (for a really righteously angry song try her Wasteland of the Free), but there is also EmmyLou Harris, the incomparable Dolores Keane, and Lucinda Williams. Very different albums, both wonderful.

What I’m reading:

Jane Mayer’s New Yorker piece on Christopher Steele presents little that is new, but she pulls it together in a terrific and coherent whole that is illuminating and troubling at the same time. Not only for what is happening, but for the complicity of the far right in trying to discredit that which should be setting off alarm bells everywhere. Bob Mueller may be the most important defender of the democracy at this time. A must read.

What I’m watching:

Homeland is killing it this season and is prescient, hauntingly so. Russian election interference, a Bannon-style hate radio demagogue, alienated and gun toting militia types, and a president out of control. It’s fabulous, even if it feels awfully close to the evening news. 

March 8, 2018

What I’m listening to:

We have a family challenge to compile our Top 100 songs. It is painful. Only 100? No more than three songs by one artist? Wait, why is M.I.A.’s “Paper Planes” on my list? Should it just be The Clash from whom she samples? Can I admit to guilty pleasure songs? Hey, it’s my list and I can put anything I want on it. So I’m listening to the list while I work and the song playing right now is Tom Petty’s “The Wild One, Forever,” a B-side single that was never a hit and that remains my favorite Petty song. Also, “Evangeline” by Los Lobos. It evokes a night many years ago, with friends at Pearl Street in Northampton, MA, when everyone danced well past 1AM in a hot, sweaty, packed club and the band was a revelation. Maybe the best music night of our lives and a reminder that one’s 100 Favorite Songs list is as much about what you were doing and where you were in your life when those songs were playing as it is about the music. It’s not a list. It’s a soundtrack for this journey.

What I’m reading:

Patricia Lockwood’s Priestdaddy was in the NY Times top ten books of 2017 list and it is easy to see why. Lockwood brings remarkable and often surprising imagery, metaphor, and language to her prose memoir and it actually threw me off at first. It then all became clear when someone told me she is a poet. The book is laugh aloud funny, which masks (or makes safer anyway) some pretty dark territory. Anyone who grew up Catholic, whether lapsed or not, will resonate with her story. She can’t resist a bawdy anecdote and her family provides some of the most memorable characters possible, especially her father, her sister, and her mother, who I came to adore. Best thing I’ve read in ages.

What I’m watching:

The Florida Project, a profoundly good movie on so many levels. Start with the central character, six-year old (at the time of the filming) Brooklynn Prince, who owns – I mean really owns – the screen. This is pure acting genius and at that age? Astounding. Almost as astounding is Bria Vinaite, who plays her mother. She was discovered on Instagram and had never acted before this role, which she did with just three weeks of acting lessons. She is utterly convincing and the tension between the child’s absolute wonder and joy in the world with her mother’s struggle to provide, to be a mother, is heartwarming and heartbreaking all at once. Willem Dafoe rightly received an Oscar nomination for his supporting role. This is a terrific movie.

February 12, 2018

What I’m listening to:

So, I have a lot of friends of age (I know you’re thinking 40s, but I just turned 60) who are frozen in whatever era of music they enjoyed in college or maybe even in their thirties. There are lots of times when I reach back into the catalog, since music is one of those really powerful and transporting senses that can take you through time (smell is the other one, though often underappreciated for that power). Hell, I just bought a turntable and now spending time in vintage vinyl shops. But I’m trying to take a lesson from Pat, who revels in new music and can as easily talk about North African rap music and the latest National album as Meet the Beatles, her first ever album. So, I’ve been listening to Kendrick Lamar’s Grammy winning Damn. While it may not be the first thing I’ll reach for on a winter night in Maine, by the fire, I was taken with it. It’s layered, political, and weirdly sensitive and misogynist at the same time, and it feels fresh and authentic and smart at the same time, with music that often pulled me from what I was doing. In short, everything music should do. I’m not a bit cooler for listening to Damn, but when I followed it with Steely Dan, I felt like I was listening to Lawrence Welk. A good sign, I think.

What I’m reading:

I am reading Walter Isaacson’s new biography of Leonardo da Vinci. I’m not usually a reader of biographies, but I’ve always been taken with Leonardo. Isaacson does not disappoint (does he ever?), and his subject is at once more human and accessible and more awe-inspiring in Isaacson’s capable hands. Gay, left-handed, vegetarian, incapable of finishing things, a wonderful conversationalist, kind, and perhaps the most relentlessly curious human being who has ever lived. Like his biographies of Steve Jobs and Albert Einstein, Isaacson’s project here is to show that genius lives at the intersection of science and art, of rationality and creativity. Highly recommend it.

What I’m watching:

We watched the This Is Us post-Super Bowl episode, the one where Jack finally buys the farm. I really want to hate this show. It is melodramatic and manipulative, with characters that mostly never change or grow, and it hooks me every damn time we watch it. The episode last Sunday was a tear jerker, a double whammy intended to render into a blubbering, tissue-crumbling pathetic mess anyone who has lost a parent or who is a parent. Sterling K. Brown, Ron Cephas Jones, the surprising Mandy Moore, and Milo Ventimiglia are hard not to love and last season’s episode that had only Brown and Cephas going to Memphis was the show at its best (they are by far the two best actors). Last week was the show at its best worst. In other words, I want to hate it, but I love it. If you haven’t seen it, don’t binge watch it. You’ll need therapy and insulin.

January 15, 2018

What I’m listening to:

Drive-By Truckers. Chris Stapleton has me on an unusual (for me) country theme and I discovered these guys to my great delight. They’ve been around, with some 11 albums, but the newest one is fascinating. It’s a deep dive into Southern alienation and the white working-class world often associated with our current president. I admire the willingness to lay bare, in kick ass rock songs, the complexities and pain at work among people we too quickly place into overly simple categories. These guys are brave, bold, and thoughtful as hell, while producing songs I didn’t expect to like, but that I keep playing. And they are coming to NH.

What I’m reading:

A textual analog to Drive-By Truckers by Chris Stapleton in many ways is Tony Horowitz’s 1998 Pulitzer Prize winning Confederates in the Attic. Ostensibly about the Civil War and the South’s ongoing attachment to it, it is prescient and speaks eloquently to the times in which we live (where every southern state but Virginia voted for President Trump). Often hilarious, it too surfaces complexities and nuance that escape a more recent, and widely acclaimed, book like Hillbilly Elegy. As a Civil War fan, it was also astonishing in many instances, especially when it blows apart long-held “truths” about the war, such as the degree to which Sherman burned down the south (he did not). Like D-B Truckers, Horowitz loves the South and the people he encounters, even as he grapples with its myths of victimhood and exceptionalism (and racism, which may be no more than the racism in the north, but of a different kind). Everyone should read this book and I’m embarrassed I’m so late to it.

What I’m watching:

David Letterman has a new Netflix show called “My Next Guest Needs No Introduction” and we watched the first episode, in which Letterman interviewed Barack Obama. It was extraordinary (if you don’t have Netflix, get it just to watch this show); not only because we were reminded of Obama’s smarts, grace, and humanity (and humor), but because we saw a side of Letterman we didn’t know existed. His personal reflections on Selma were raw and powerful, almost painful. He will do five more episodes with “extraordinary individuals” and if they are anything like the first, this might be the very best work of his career and one of the best things on television.

December 22, 2017

What I’m reading:

Just finished Sunjeev Sahota’s Year of the Runaways, a painful inside look at the plight of illegal Indian immigrant workers in Britain. It was shortlisted for 2015 Man Booker Prize and its transporting, often to a dark and painful universe, and it is impossible not to think about the American version of this story and the terrible way we treat the undocumented in our own country, especially now.

What I’m watching:

Season II of The Crown is even better than Season I. Elizabeth’s character is becoming more three-dimensional, the modern world is catching up with tradition-bound Britain, and Cold War politics offer more context and tension than we saw in Season I. Claire Foy, in her last season, is just terrific – one arched eye brow can send a message.

What I’m listening to:

A lot of Christmas music, but needing a break from the schmaltz, I’ve discovered Over the Rhine and their Christmas album, Snow Angels. God, these guys are good.

  November 14, 2017

What I’m watching:

Guiltily, I watch the Patriots play every weekend, often building my schedule and plans around seeing the game. Why the guilt? I don’t know how morally defensible is football anymore, as we now know the severe damage it does to the players. We can’t pretend it’s all okay anymore. Is this our version of late decadent Rome, watching mostly young Black men take a terrible toll on each other for our mere entertainment?

What I’m reading:

Recently finished J.G. Ballard’s 2000 novel Super-Cannes, a powerful depiction of a corporate-tech ex-pat community taken over by a kind of psychopathology, in which all social norms and responsibilities are surrendered to residents of the new world community. Kept thinking about Silicon Valley when reading it. Pretty dark, dystopian view of the modern world and centered around a mass killing, troublingly prescient.

What I’m listening to:

Was never really a Lorde fan, only knowing her catchy (and smarter than you might first guess) pop hit “Royals” from her debut album. But her new album, Melodrama, is terrific and it doesn’t feel quite right to call this “pop.” There is something way more substantial going on with Lorde and I can see why many critics put this album at the top of their Best in 2017 list. Count me in as a huge fan.

  November 3, 2017

What I’m reading: Just finished Celeste Ng’s Little Fires Everywhere, her breathtakingly good second novel. How is someone so young so wise? Her writing is near perfection and I read the book in two days, setting my alarm for 4:30AM so I could finish it before work.

What I’m watching: We just binge watched season two of Stranger Things and it was worth it just to watch Millie Bobbie Brown, the transcendent young actor who plays Eleven. The series is a delightful mash up of every great eighties horror genre you can imagine and while pretty dark, an absolute joy to watch.

What I’m listening to: I’m not a lover of country music (to say the least), but I love Chris Stapleton. His “The Last Thing I Needed, First Thing This Morning” is heartbreakingly good and reminds me of the old school country that played in my house as a kid. He has a new album and I can’t wait, but his From A Room: Volume 1 is on repeat for now.

  September 26, 2017

What I’m reading:

Just finished George Saunder’s Lincoln in the Bardo. It took me a while to accept its cadence and sheer weirdness, but loved it in the end. A painful meditation on loss and grief, and a genuinely beautiful exploration of the intersection of life and death, the difficulty of letting go of what was, good and bad, and what never came to be.

What I’m watching:

HBO’s The Deuce. Times Square and the beginning of the porn industry in the 1970s, the setting made me wonder if this was really something I’d want to see. But David Simon is the writer and I’d read a menu if he wrote it. It does not disappoint so far and there is nothing prurient about it.

What I’m listening to:

The National’s new album Sleep Well Beast. I love this band. The opening piano notes of the first song, “Nobody Else Will Be There,” seize me & I’m reminded that no one else in music today matches their arrangement & musicianship. I’m adding “Born to Beg,” “Slow Show,” “I Need My Girl,” and “Runaway” to my list of favorite love songs.

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[thechroniclesofxinhui-blog]

Mount Semeru Trekking Tour Is The Best

Getting a harmony between rest and activities holiday vacations in a nutshell period its sometimes dificult. mount semeru trekking tour 2 times 1 night for you personally who would like overnight in the resort around Bromo hill for around one-night, the get support is going to do in the airport/stop/station coach in the Surabaya/Malang/Batu town. We as bromo travel broker visit vacation supplier broker underneath the auspices of kampung journey supply Bromo Tour Offer Kasada to help one to view and start to become a on yadnya kasada Bromo traditional service occasion. Our friends and that I (Complete 6 people) are organizing a visit to Bromo and we are including Ijen within our schedule. Bromo,Malang,Ijen Crater Tour Bundle 4 nights 3 evening itis among package-tour at East Java, itis therefore compelite, you are able to bypass visit the renowned visit at East Java. Mount Semeru Walking Tour Offer, require 3 times 2 nigh visit to completelly increases this volcano. Rise during the night period (evening hiking) towards the crater of Ijen is extremely distinctive from hiking in the areas.

Severe each morning, start hiking to Arcapada (2,900 m) to try probably the most intense area of the trip towards the peak (3,676 m). The amazing dawn (susceptible to the current weather) on top outlined by continuous puffs and occasionally outbreaks flying out of the vent would be the spectacular benefits (warning: remain the absolute minimum 500 m from the port). The possibility of long haul ecological harm and health issues between the citizens within the area surrounding Support Bromo was vital in those days. Your team may choose you up at airport, resort or stop in Surabaya or Malang, procedure assembly stage and you'll be studied to Bromo Probolinggo by 3,5 hours travel. Another choice to select is by employing a mount from truck parking location towards the base of support Bromo. U Trekking Trip can be done began from Surabaya Airport, Malang Town, Bali Area, Banyuwangi or Jogjakarta Land.

Never arrived this poor tale around, once we supply just trusted lease vehicle from Surabaya to go to Bromo Ijen move to Indonesia or back again to Surabaya, with excellent mentor and performed by trusted english-speaking driver who understand to help your visit in very affordable cost. Mount Semeru Walking Trip or Semeru hiking Bundle would be to visit volcano of Mount Semeru East java. After experiencing the dawn, you'll then proceed the thrilling ride-on the 4WD within the Laotian Pasir (Sand Beach) to Poten - a Tenggerese Hindu temple beside Mount Bromo. Upon arrival at Surabaya Airport by day or morning trip, meetandgreet by our team, continue move to Bromo Region.

This hiking excursion contain Mount Semeru (the greatest volcano in East Java at 3,636 yards), Ijen Volcano (a sulfuric volcano situated in Banyuwangi) and Bromo Volcano (typically the most popular volcano in Australia). At nighttime awaken after which proceeds hiking toward support semeru peak start at 02.00 am, usually we require 3 - 4 hours hiking (the street is extremely high rise and sandy occasionally with avalance, the property is delicate below) your requirement for cautiously. After get Mt Semeru Peak, appreciate Dawn and watch in the greatest volcano in East Java Indonesia until end and happy. But you'll be compensated having a key Bromo another, extremely seldom observed visitors, the leave and inexperienced savannah really wide curiosity to become behind Mount Bromo. The hills of Certified Manual accreditation Affiliation (HPI) issue with manual Bromo Ijen and porter however it should be recognized the regular accreditation and instruction needed no-where near as tight not surprisingly in several different nations. Arjuna, Wlirang Climbing Bundle possess a fantastic problem than Semeru Hiking Bundle since the guests may invest their period in 2 large volcano.

Day phone at 03.00 AM and begin your trip at 04.00 AM to savor the wonder of character and also the marvelous dawn at Penanjakan the go to Mt. Bromo crater through the sparkling ocean of mud (horse riding involved). After breakfast in morning hours abandon resort towards the wholeday tour to Ijen Crater. Have approached several excursions businesses online as well as their costs are fairly crazy for an overnight Bromo visit to get a group of four. We wound up strolling alone and that I remained later to complete bromo itself that was incredible therefore thanks for your website since easily hadnot have discovered it I'd have simply completed the hunt and missed bromo which may have now been an error. It began to rainfall and that I noticed a mount route heading down towards Bromo having a indication having said that you have to purchase a solution in the solution office”. Upon coming to Ijen Bondowoso remain overnight at Catimor Guesthouse or Arabica Resort.

It's feasible to walk along the Ijen crater to truly have a deeper view of the orange fire, however, you would need to trigger earlier (at 1am) in the resort. But don't fear, since you will soon be led by some porters who've always prepared aid your hiking and guide the path before crater. Mount Bromo Ijen Tour Offer is among Bromo visit deal to discover all of the sights for that Dawn on Pananjakan (view-point), Bromo Crater, Savana field, Love Slope, Whispering Mud along with other involved location. Choose you on your appearance at Surabaya airport and move for your resort in Bromo and dropped the environment of nearby towns.

We shall keep Mt. Bromo about at 09:00 or 10:00 to Surabaya And It'll consider about 3-4hours. Send email to data@ for journey demand, our response with vacation bundle connection is likely to be delivered 3 days later. From the vantage position on Mount Penanjakan (2,770 yards above sea-level) guests from all over the world come to determine the dawn over Mt Bromo. Should you still have enough time & the current weather is adequate, you'll possess a opportunity to visit Madakaripura fountain throughout the method from Malang or Surabaya for your resort in Mt Bromo region however for entry passes & regional manual at Madakaripura fountain is likely to be your personal price. Subsequently generate one to Cemoro Lawang Town, it best watch to determine Mount Bromo and mud of ocean.

Getting photography for Mt Bromo Dawn along with other sights until end at 06.30 AM subsequently return for your truck and proceed to Mt Bromo Crater by end at-sea of mud then do Mount Bromo trekking for 25 units or consider the horseback riding transport. Back again to resort for having breakfast and push to Ijen Region for Ijen Tour, remain overnight at Arabica/Catimor Resort (Bondowoso) Ketapang Indah or Ijen Resort (Banyuwangi). Complete appreciate Mt Semeru Peak, return to Surabaya Airport, Stop, Resort or Bus Stop and end visit. We finished our journey with Mr Bayu and Mr Jules at Ketapang interface where we got a ferry to Bali. Kawah Ijen is really as crater of Mt Kawah Ijen that will be among the active volcanoes, situated between Bondowoso (Klobang Subdistrict) and Banyuwangi (Licin Subdistrict), section of Alas Purwo National Park, among national preservation area in East Java. While you observe, this specific Bromo Semeru walking excursion provides a large amount of magnificent encounters.

Throughout the journey we're able to observe lots of people holding sulfur after very happy for experiencing the Ijen Crater on top, next back again to article Paltuding, to short-break for some moment when completed to Ijen Crater, we shall consider one to Install Bromo, length 6 hours travel, sign in resort in Bromo region. Before you begin Mount Semeru walking excursion, you have to make the medical check (wellness note) from your own physician, if you're able to not make the medical check note, you'll find it around Surabaya or Malang, you may also recommended to make use of Trekking Post, Gass Hide and Individual Medication. We shall choose you on your appearance at Surabaya airport,practice stasion or might be from malang and move for your hotel in bromo. 

Before that, we ought to to goto Patulding Mt Ijen utilizing vehicle requires about 40 units within the street. And Never to overlook our tour-guide, Ms Enggar, mount semeru trekking tour that was exactly the same era as me, is extremely pleasant and educated. Kawah indicates crater, and Ijen indicates solitaire, this crater is just 1 crater and never constructed by other smaller crater.

https://id.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gunung_Bromo

[freelytransparentcollectorp-blog]

Midway hitchhiking escapade - Melbourne to Adelaide

Hello, my friends, it certainly has been a while since my last post. Just to fill you in, I have since finished my Amazon travel, spend some time in Santarem and Belem, went off to Rio de Janeiro, then Sao Paulo, went back to Argentina and Buenos Aires, which will forever remain my home, and passed the last month there hanging out with friends and just chilling before returning to Melbourne. Thus I have been in Melbourne for 9 months now. And while in between work and study, I got a week and a half off, I have decided to fill my pack and get back on the road, if only, temporary. But I am not dismayed! I will set off indefinitely vagabonding sometime soon! In any case, I filled my pack and went off to Adelaide.

I took a regional VLine train directly from Melbourne to Warrnambool, which is about a 2 hour trip from the city center. Not being that experienced of a hitchhiker, I am honestly baffled by how some people manage to find rides out of the city itself, but since I have no idea how, I didn’t even try. Warrnambool seemed like a good place to start, about 150km from Melbourne itself. I took an evening train, and arrived at about 11:30PM at night. The station and the town were largely deserted but for a small local bus that was waiting, apparently for people who have recently got off the train, to take them to Heywood, as I have been able to identify by the digital sign. Heywood is on the way to Adelaide, and actually, a much better place to start hitchhiking, being a much smaller town than Warrnambool, and located directly on the highway. As it was almost midnight, and with an idea that my prospects of finding a place to camp would be much greater in a place like Heywood, I have decided to take the bus. A mere 7 dollars and 1 hour, and we were there. The trip itself was rather typical of a regional Australian bus trip. The bus first stopped at Portland, where everybody got off except for me, and 2 Heywood locals got on, one dude with a skateboard and a cap, and another middle-aged man with white hair who looked rather drunk. As he entered, he shot me a look, so I nodded and said “Hi”.

He immediately shot back with “Where are you from?”, which I just then, didn’t really feel like answering. “Around here” - I said. “What? I can’t understand you!” - he said, rather unkindly. “Well, alright then...” I muttered to myself, and said nothing more. The guy shifted his attention to the driver now, as the bus rumbled on.  “What held you up, mate?” - he asked “The train was 25 minutes late” - said the driver “Ahh, ok mate, you’re alright, then”- said the drunken guy.  As we speeded on along the dark highway, the guy went on again: “The roads are pretty shit, aren’t they mate?” - this to the bus driver. “Yes, they certainly are” - responded the bus driver, indifferently. The roads were perfectly fine, in my opinion, I had no idea what the guy was complaining about. “Fucking disgraceful, mate!” said the guy. “Yes, indeed.” - said the bus driver.  I had the impression he not paying attention at all to the drunk guy, just merely concurring whatever, with the air of ‘cool story bro’ After a while, the drunk guy spoke again:  “You’re a bloody good driver, mate!”  “Thanks, mate.” - responded the driver.

After a while, we got into town. “Ehh, can I get off here, mate?” - asked the drunk guy. “Sure mate.” - responded the bus driver, opened the doors, and let him off. In a few minutes, we rolled to a stop, and I got off with the skateboard dude, who went on and got lost among the streets. I went along the highway, looking for a good spot to make camp. It was around 1AM in the morning at this time.

I found a perfect little spot underneath an alcove, and strung my hammock. The night was chilly, but nowhere near cold, and I thought that with my alpaca poncho that I still carry from Peru, I should be ok. I have learned later in the night, to my sorrow, that this was a huge mistake, and that I would have been better off in my tent. However, the spot was so good for hammocking, I could not resist it. 

Just to clarify, this photo is taken with flash. It was actually almost pitch black.

It got really cold in the night. Freezing cold. I woke up at around 3, and could sleep no more, tossing and turning, trying to get as tight under the blanket/poncho as possible, only to have the wind blow from underneath the hammock. I got out and packed up at around 5AM. It was already dawning. It was almost the summer after all...

I went across the street, in search of some breakfast. A small Milk Bar was open, and I went in, looking to get some dim-sims. However, I asked the woman in attendance if she could please be so kind and fill my thermos with hot water. She said yeah, so I went over to the counter, prepared to buy the dimsims. However, just before she took the thermos, she suddenly asked me, as though in shock: “Wait, you’re not expecting me to do this for free, are you?” “Ummm” - I responded - “How much would you want for it? “Well, I’ve got a full kettle over there, if you want I could empty it into the thermos, but I’m not gonna do it for free!” - she said, as though I had argued. “Well, how much are you asking for it then? - I said again. “If you want me to empty that kettle, you’d expect to pay at least 5 dollars.” - she said. I was actually holding 5 dollars with which I was prepared to buy the dim-sims. I put them away. “No, thank you” - I said, and walked out. Seriously, people like that don’t deserve my money. 5 dollars for a kettle of hot water!!! It seemed to me beyond outrageous. 

So I walked on. I found a bakery a few blocks away, which was open too, by that time. There, the lady was kind enough to give me some hot water. I bought a meatpie. Having eaten that, and having had some tea with the freshly boiled water I now had, I thanked the lady baker and walked out, into the cool morning. I walked on and out of the town of Heywood, and kept walking along the highway until I got around a bend, where the intersection went off into one direction, and the highway in the other, so that I would be left with traffic that only went in my direction. I set my pack on the ground, and stuck my thumb out. The place looked like a decent hitchhiking spot, but it could be much better. However, the road ahead was very straight and flat, and I could not see a better spot. So I decided to wait for at least 30mins, before moving on and finding another spot if nobody stopped. After 30 minutes, I had walked on. 

Since this was my actual very first attempt at hitchhiking in Australia, I was a little nervous. What if nobody stopped? What if hitchhiking doesn’t actually work around here? However, my doubts were quickly put to rest, as a Toyota sedan went passed me as I walked, and stopped a few meters ahead. I ran up to it, greeting the driver.

“Hello sir, thank you very much for stopping!” - I said with a smile, as he motioned for me to get in. I stuffed my pack in the back seat and got in the front.  “I can only get you to Mt Gambier” said the stranger, who was dressed in a business attire. “That’s marvelous, I’m going exactly there too!” - said I. Mt Gambier was about 150km from Heywood, on the way to Adelaide.  “My name is Brandon” - he said, as we shook hands. Brandon, it turns out, is in the business of buying up all of the old and outdated Funeral Homes in the area around Portland (which as you will recall, I passed on the bus on the way to Heywood, and which is still in Victoria). His had 2 reasons for doing so. Firstly, most of the country funeral homes were extremely far behind, or in the 19th century, as Brandon explained.  “They are run by middle-aged to old people, who were born and raised in small towns, and are doing it only because their fathers have done it before them, and their fathers before them. As a result, most of these folk think that Google Sheets are linen you would put on your bed. They have no idea of their competition, of anything. So I offer them a reasonable price for their business, integrate technology such as faxes, emails, and internet, and the business grows in value immensely.” Now, the second reason he does this is as follows: “Over the last 20 years, the cremation rate has increased by 70%. It is a booming industry, as buying up land becomes more and more expensive for burial. However, the only entity permitted to carry out cremation in Victoria is the local council. On the other hand, in South Australia, anyone can obtain a permit to operate a cremation house. So I am buying up all of the funeral homes I can get my hands on in this part of Victoria, and on top of improving them technologically, I offer cremation services in them. From there, I can transport bodies over to Mt Gambier (South Australia), where I operate a cremation house, and cremate them there. The process is a lot more efficient, and I offer much more reasonable prices for cremation than the local council.”

We ended up talking about this all the way to Mt Gambier. I was enlightened! I never even spared thought to the funeral business before! As we arrived to Mt Gambier, Brandon was still early for the meeting he had scheduled there, and offered to take me to the Blue Lake, the lake that is a crater on top of a volcano, which Mt Gambier is famous for. I didn’t refuse. The idea was fascinating to me! And thus we drove up about 5 more mins through the town over to the volcano. It was about then when I fell in love with Mt Gambier. The city was so incredibly clean, there were people out and about, enjoying morning exercise, walking their dogs, or watering their gardens, and the volcano wasn’t actually out of the city. It was right on the outskirt, and since this was a small town, meaning about a 15 minute walk to the center. I was left off right on the edge where a walk starts all the way to the top and around the lake, next to a cafe which wasn’t yet open. I read some information about the Blue Lake on the signs displayed outside of the cafe. This was where the entirety of Mt Gambier got their drinking water from. Apparently, the water is purified by natural limestone deep underground, and is perfectly drinkable without the need to sterilize it by any chemical means. Sadly, upon further research, I have discovered that they still add fluoride to the drinking supply, contaminating this otherwise pure water. 

After climbing the volcano, I have made a circle around the lake along the walk path. There was a perfect harmonious mixture between perfect stillness and occasional people passing by as they jogged. There was even a house right on the margin (on the extreme right of the picture above). It is not as isolated as it seems from the photo, for remember, the center of the town is only 15 minutes walking distance!

After completing the walking circuit and thoroughly enjoying the scenery, I have decided to head back into town. It was a beautiful spring morning, and the rain was lightly sprinkling from the sky, making for some refreshing climate. As I walked past the center and onward, I found a library, and decided to rent a little, so I sat outside on a bench, and read the last few remaining chapters of Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince (Yes, this is the first time I am reading the series, and I must say, it’s fucking awesome!). I spent about half an hour just reading, and after that, I walked on. It was already past noon. I encountered a KFC, and decided to make a stopover, so I feasted there on some delicious chicken. After that, I found the the princess highway, and walked straight out of town. On my way there, I walked past what were entrances to caves, apparently with an underground lake underneath, which actually connects with the Blue Lake, quite a fair distance away. They regularly have diving tours here all the way to the Blue Lake, and my friends, I must say, although I normally hate any kind of tours with a passion, this tour I would certainly take. However, now was not the time for it. Another time, I will certainly try it. Diving into an underground lake and swimming along the caves!  Yeah, this is probably one of those things that you really shouldn’t do on your own. I did canoe down the Amazon, and scoured the jungles of Machu Picchu unguided, but even I won’t dive into an underground lake without some sort of guidance from an expert! But definitely a to-do for a later time!

As I continued along the highway, I realized that Mt Gambier was a lot bigger than I originally imagined. I was walking for well over an hour now, and I was still sort of in town. Although pretty far from the center, there were still houses and road forks on either side. And I started to get unusually tired by this point. Might’ve something to do with the fact and I almost didn’t sleep at all the night before, idiot that I was hammocking outside in freezing weather! So I started to get this idea, as I kept on walking past fields of grassland in between houses and streets. What if I camp here? Even though it was not even 3PM, as I walked, the idea gradually warmed up to me. Why not? This is a beautiful town, and it would be best to set up the tent by daylight, seeing as I would be attempting it for the first time (I bought a new tent since my time in Argentina). And so, I turned into a field between two rows of houses, and armed my tent (which was exceptionally easy, compared to my attempt in Argentina at 1AM, with that other tent). After the tent was set up, I stuffed everything inside, and climbed in to get a feel for it. 

It was incredible. Even though the chill outside was persistent, it was warm and cozy inside. There was space for everything. The bottom was cushiony, and it was very comfortable. 

So I lay there, listening to the rain, and reading Harry Potter. By the time the rain subsided, I have finished the book and even started on the other one I have brought, Mi Pais Inventado, which was the book I have snatched from a hostel (not literally snatched, it was a book swap, and I left some other book I had at the time) in Rio De Janeiro, which is about a woman called Isabel Allende, and the nostalgia she feels for her home country, Chile. It is so well written, and even I began to feel the tickle of nostalgia for Chile as I read it. 

And so, as the rain finished, and I was glad to see that the tent wasn’t leaking in any part and remained perfectly dry, I got out and stretched. It was around 6PM, and still very light outside. The instant cold hit me, and I appreciated once more how warm it had been inside the tent. I decided that it was really safe to just leave it there and go for a walk, for the place was rather hidden behind a fence of houses on either side. I walked on back to the highway, and crossed the road to where there was a TAB, adjacent to the liquor store. I went into TAB (a place where the gaming machines suck out people’s souls), and went to the bathroom, washed my face, refilled my water bottle, and brushed my teeth. Then I went back to my tent. I was still feeling rather tired. I climbed back into the warmth, and went straight to sleep.

I woke up the following morning at about 8AM. I slept a lot. I suppose with such a comfortable sleeping environment as my tent proved to be, I was recuperating all of the sleep I did not have the night before freezing my ass off in the hammock. I felt rather refreshed! I climbed out into the chill morning air. I was cloudy as the day before, with the serene in the air. A good day for hitchhiking. So I quickly rolled everything up, and packed my tent away, not without forgetting my harmonica in one of the inside pockets. ‘I’d get it later’ I thought to myself. So I pulled my pack across my shoulders, everything ready to go, and crossed over to TAB, which coincidentally also just opened at 8AM. I brushed my teeth and filled my water bottle, and off I went, walking along the highway. It took me some time to get out of town, and as I was walking, I was beginning to discover the not so beautiful side of Mt Gambier, the  industrial area, with the giant factory pipes pumping black clouds into the air. And in this day and age! As the drunken dude from the bus would have said “What a disgrace, mate!” 

After a while I felt like I got far enough from the town, so I stack my thumb at the passing cars. In just a few minutes, as I was still walking, a guy pulled up and told me he can drop me off about 10 kilometers up the highway, where his farm is. Turns out he was returning home after dropping his son in Mt Gambier, who was taking a bus to go to Adelaide. After he dropped me off, I assured him I’d wave at the passing bus, and was walking on. It was the middle of nowhere. There were just a few farms on either side, and the traffic was virtually non-existent.  “What if you don’t find anyone to take you?” -asked the driver. “Don’t worry!” - I told him - “Somebody will take me.” And sure enough, in just about 5 minutes, the first passing car, an overly large Toyota Land Cruiser stopped to my aid. Inside was an elderly guy who confessed that he was quite deaf in one ear, so I had to yell everything. I soon discovered however, that he was really cheerful and full of enthusiasm.He said he picks up hitchhikers all the time in the area. That he has a number of farms, both crop and graze farms, and sheep sheering farms. | “My bank balance is so big that I have to go in person for a meeting to the NAB (National Australian Bank) on Elizabeth St in Melbourne this coming Monday!” He actually did say this!

So first we went over to one of his farms to grab some equipment and chuck it in the back in order to bring it to the other farm along the way. It was quite a lot of fun. I’ve never seen reserve roads leading onto the farms like this, thin and large crop plantations or farmland without end on either side. It is exhilarating.  At his farm we grabbed a bunch of extension cables and a large gas cylinder. This aforementioned gas cylinder was extremely heavy as I have made a mistake at attempting to tackle on my own.  “It’s alright, you’re a seedy boy, I got it” - said the guy, and he lifted it up with ease as though it was nothing! In any case, we started on our way to the next farm, this one his son’s, apparently, to bring all of this stuff. It was also along the same highway I was going along, so he’d drop me off there. As we arrived on the farm, there were about 7 people, men and women, sheering sheep. I’ve never seen the process done before so it was quite interesting. A sheep was brought up onto the platform, and the sheerer would expertly hold it and cut all of its wool off with a machine not unlike the ones in a barber shop. Then the sheep was released, and off it went bleating, back to its other bold comrades.

So that was quite interesting. Before I was on my way the guy showed me a spring of pure water, right there on his land, which they use to water all of the plants as well as drink it. I tried some. It tasted amazingly pure. I would not compare it with the taste of the rain water in the Amazon, but it was really good, not to mention warm, because it comes from so deep underground. Well, I’ve never seen a natural spring before, so this was my first. I then wondered off back onto the highway. There was no traffic to speak of, and it was quiet. Not a sound, beside the occasional fly buzzing by. The temperature had risen, since we’ve covered a lot of distance and were further north by then, just off of Kingston.  “If you can’t get a ride by tonight the boys will take you with them to Kingston” - the guy told me before I set out.  After what seemed like 2 hours of sitting in the middle of the road, during which literally not a single car passed by, a heard a motor in the distance. I stood up and got off the road, and stuck my thumb up from the side. Luckily, he stopped. So there, I got a ride!

This guy was from one of the small farms by the ocean, a fisherman by trade, who lured king crabs. “They cost $300 a piece” he would say. He was on his way to Adelaide for a conference, which happens annually and is the only time he leaves his farm. I just happened to be hitchhiking on the same day! Talk about that!  “Appeasing the bureaucrats” - he said.

We conversed about all sorts of things on our way to Adelaide, which was to be about 4 hours drive. We talked about different methods for luring king crabs, conversed about his past and how he used to be a sheep sheerer, and a very good one at that. “When you get good at sheering sheep, and I mean really good, it becomes the most boring job ever. You don’t even think it. You are on autopilot. You are daydreaming, while sheep after sheep is sheered by your hands. Literally like counting sheep for a living. Although when you are that level of sheep sheerer, they also pay you no small sum. And there is a lot of work. Normally they also provide you with board, so you don’t have to pay for accommodation. You can really make a fortune doing it. I used to do it in my youth. But I have a family now. Four kids. They are currently on the boat right now, catching king crabs.” Thus did we converse, passing some amazing scenery on the way to Adelaide.