The gentrification of dead philosophers

or greetings from Sydney!

Of velocipedes and boopotamy

I have been much neglecting my writings lately, sadly, as there has been much to do keeping the human on the straight and narrow. This became urgent three weeks ago when he decided to embark with an intrepid colleague on an autumn jaunt along the Canal du Nivernais, braving rain and pinot noir in pursuit of the Burgundinian sublime.

Sweet showers rightly belong in April -- it must have been the humans' decision to put up for the night in a pilgrims' residence that led both rain and gravitation to make the experience as authentic as possible. Complain they might, but Romanesque basilicae are designed to be built on top of hills that are intended to be walked up, in the dark and if possible on one's knees.

Sunday lunch of wild boar stew and complimentary pâté sounds tempting -- sorry Fidel! -- but it was quite a relief to have a weekend to myself in a nice warm kitchen. Greetings from canalside cows notwithstanding, I think I got the better end of the deal.

Years of insouciance, or la vie en rose: animal rights, racism and sex kitten nostalgia

"Never with a vacuum cleaner", the subject of this post once said in response to an appliance magnate's request to dance on a yacht in St. Tropez. Needless to say, plenty of white late middle aged vacuum cleaner salesfolk in evidence at the exhibition opening, though the animals seem to have stayed away in solidarity with the immigrants. The human assures me he only braved the sea of pink because there was free champagne on offer, and promises -- promises -- that his lengthy stare at the sight below was one of pure bewilderment. I'll let you be the judge.

Leporello goes mobile, or seduction on a budget

Modern Times, Religion and Parking Fines

Reserved for Bowler Hats and Walking Sticks

Identity fraud strikes! Hugo the Hippo has a 1970s Hungarian doppelgänger!

I'm not sure what to make of the discovery that there's another Hugo the Hippo out there -- quite how he managed to assume my identity a decade before I came into existence I'll never know, but he seems harmless enough. The plot, as far as I can work out, gets resolved by the Sultan of Zanzibar ordering that Hugo be looked after for the rest of his days; I'm taking this as before-the-event social realist codespeak for my brilliant idea about finding a châtelaine to keep me!

The only sensible explanation I can find is offered by one of the more enlightened Encyclopaedists, wondering whether his best novel was really

copied from the life of Tristram Shandy, unless the dealings of Jacques the Fatalist and his master happened to precede this work, and that Parson Sterne is the plagiarist, which I don’t really believe as I have a particular esteem for Monsieur Sterne who I distinguish from most of the writers of his nation, who make a habit of stealing from and insulting us.

Producers of Hungarian anime, on the other hand, should perhaps best stick to voodoo dolls!

The uses of public transport

Shamelessly ripped off another blog -- which includes links for donations!

It's hard to be loved by idiots

or
Don't hold your breath for the 2009 Sydney French Film Festival!

Riding a dinosaur

Take that, Darwin!

In vino veritas, or GCG

16.2% alc/vol
9.6 standard drinks
Preservative 220 added
Backstory:

Protests so far not outlawed by the NSW government

or at very least reputed to have embarrassed the editors of the Vatican's index librorum prohibitorum [latina]