The sheep field was also located next to a poppy field, which are pretty common here (I'm told Tasmania produces about 90% of the medical use opium/morphine for the Eastern Hemisphere). So not too excited to stop the care and approach the fences (the pictures give an inkling as to why...).
Besides, it'd be a little dicey to go out of your way to spend extra time w/ sheep out in the field anyway. As I said to my friend Dale, “Cloning? I don't know-- I'm kind of leary of any scientific advancement that results from the Scotts doing strange things to sheep.”
Can you imagine if the fences broke down? A bunch of naked sheep, wandering around the countryside, high? Wobbly, naked sheep. We refer to the ability of high-addicts back home to just sort of stand there, swaying slowly side to side, eyes closed but never falling down as the “Heroin Tai-Chi." This could be a potentially difficult to deal with but at the same time hysterical agricultural disaster if these particular fences failed..
A few posts back, I mentioned the group Tripod and a performance of theirs on the TV program “The Sideshow.” Well, I didn't get my shift switched to see them in Lonnie, but I was able to find the song I was talking about online. Sorry for the earlier mis-quotes-- these guys are great. All scrawny, pale technophiles take note! It reminds me of the Onion online video commentary “Are video games doing enough to prepare our children for the coming apocalypse?” Also, watch for the appropriate use of the term “rooted.” “Bush-tucker” is a term for wild game. Sorry for the video/audio dysynchrony.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xetsxpKjmQo&feature=PlayList&p=7F014126BB46D8FA&playnext=1&playnext_from=PL&index=14
For those interested, here is there homage to adult-aged males who still play Dungeons and Dragons on the weekends...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0IgVPnhmVNE&feature=related
Similarly, Tim Minchin is another Aussie musical act that I've enjoyed since being down here...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=78XrI_2bPVA&feature=PlayList&p=E2C04E96920A17A5&index=3&playnext=3&playnext_from=PL
And I thought I'd add the following text from an email I received from a patient down here. It contrasts sharply w/ the experience a friend of mine (an OB) related of a patient opening up the initial conversation with the threat of a lawsuit. Yup, it's a different world...
"Dear [AWS], This is just the briefest note to express our appreciation of your advice and help when [E] presented at your emergency department with a Lt. basal pneumonia on 26-12 09. I am pleased to say she is responding well and almost apyrexial now. I hope to meet you sometime while you are here and will be in touch again. Yours sincerely, many thanks and best wishes, [...]"
Anyway, about to head in for another weekend of "babysit the drunk head traumas and hope no one herniates until the morning." Not to stereotype, but people love beating the hell out of each other out here. I mean, for a relatively moderately sized town, there are quite a few "bashings" a night (I heard "bashing" referred to as the cause of death of an off-duty cop on the news the other night. I guess in the States we'd say "beating death"?). So no guns, one stabbing, but plenty of blunt trauma on the weekends, which is a little unsettling. Makes me wonder if I've got post-traummatic stress disorder from my mugging... :)
A good friend of mine said, you know you're getting into a little bit of a self-pity mode about your relationships when pop songs start speaking directly to you (you know what? He was just pushing my love over the borderline..."). I think this relates to High Fidelity's point of "Did I listen to pop music because I was miserable? Or was I miserable because I listened to pop music?"
While not miserable or self-pitying, I thought I'd throw out these lyrics to a few of my favorite songs I was listening to again (gotta love the "shuffle") for good measure. 10-points for identifying the first, 20 for the second. Cheers, --aws
"Some say life / will beat you down / break your heart / steal your crown /
So I started out / for God knows where /
I guess I'll know / when I get there..."
we break and train our children just like animals
we fill 'em up with parasites of poison dreams and fear
We hand 'em false gods on a golden platter
then we remind them to wash behind their ears
We gave up our own dreams so the kid could go to college
then they grow up and resent us; accuse us of impossible psychological crimes
the normal relationship in Hell is about getting even
but you won't find that in your Sunday New York Times
Anger Sadness Hatred Envy--
these are just Fear wearing the same old cheap masks
You're doomed if you don't learn forgiveness, Sister
we're all driving around lost, we don't know who to ask
We're all stopping at abandoned gas stations to ask directions
there's no more road maps to tell us who the hell we are
raised on TV commercials, organized religion
following corrupt wisemen who've been navigating by
the wrong star...
We've reached the end of the road and find out no one else can make us happy
we've waged all the wars of drama and control
we've sacrificed it all for wives husbands money children false religion-- that old line about gaining the world but losing your soul.
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