Love love love the wind turbine sentinels of the Manawatu Gorge. Protecting Woodville from the hordes of Mordor.
Ground zero for the Psocoptera (Psocidae) infestation in my pantry: dried porcini. Going in the freezer from now on. Psocopterans pseriously psuck.
Walking home in the dark through Hagley Park the trees shook, the Avon sloshed, and the shelducks wheeped and honked in alarm.
Ferns are like sexless Barbie/Ken dolls, shedding doll-dandruff that turns into thousands of tiny detached genitals. The scattered genitals seek out each other, have sex, and sprout tiny sexless Barbies. The ferny life cycle is truly odd.
My moisturiser is supposedly “anti-fatigue”. It says on the label. But I’m puzzled: how exactly is my face getting tired? I can only think it’s some sort of Yiddish invective. “When I look at you, my face gets tired.”
E.O. Wilson had a Nature-cover paper denying kin selection is a factor in eusociality. Suspect Nature only accepted it because of his rep. He’s been quoted as saying, “I think that’d be a pretty poor scientist, who couldn’t reverse his view from new evidence.” Which is true. At my count Wilson was wrong about island biogeography models, biophilia, & consilience. Looking forward to the retractions.
Bought my first issue of NZ food mag Dish. The writing is definitely low-calorie and gluten-free. Nuggets of rich advertising embedded in a frothy matrix of sugary photography, artificially-enhanced opinion, and Wikipedia.
Pre-decimal English currency was so ludicrous it parodied itself: half-crown, guinea, florin, farthing, & tuppence-ha’penny. £2.3s.6½d.
The West Australian coat of arms features kangaroos holding boomerangs, so I presume it was focus-grouped.
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