Bosman hissy fit

Some astute readers may have noted the nice tree in the banner pic above with the long seed pods. During the rainy season it was even nicer – lots of lush leafiness and good shade for the hot days. Green is good in Port Moresby, it’s a visual relief. The wet-season vegetation is one of the saner, less depressing aspects of Moronsby.

Well no longer. Some chop-happy tree surgeon has clambered up the tree and crudely hacked off all the frond-bearing branches. The once-beautiful plant is now a desperate skeleton. Frankly, they stuffed it for no apparent reason. Why the wasteland aesthetic is so eagerly embraced in these parts I do not know. Maybe it’s cultural, or a result of embedded values, or lack thereof of something comparable to my own. Well, bugger culture, and values can piss off. I can acknowledge these things, accept that they are different from my own, and use them to explain why some things are blah and other things are whoop-de-do – but that doesn’t mean I have to like them. Indeed, in this case it’s shit. There was no need.

Bring back the tree you rabid bush-knife wielding philistine bastard!!!!

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4 Responses to “Bosman hissy fit”


  1. 1 themix July 19, 2009 at 4:45 am

    Never fail to bring a chuckle Butler. Love it. Gives me that slightly less bilious edge to the vomitous cynicism of my days.

    This puts me in mind of some rant of Tolkien’s I read at some point, though to be sure, the language was a tad more… I was going to say eloquent, but that really doesn’t do you any justice… perhaps it was just a little more restrained… a product of the times no doubt.

    I do find it somewhat comforting to read the regular trials and tribulations of a fellow ex-pat. I begin to think that I live in some strange sort of dark and jaded little universe that is beyond the ken of all my kin… my god, Enduring Art feels like a great adventure in hating the world some days… well, some days no doubt it is… what else is a fucking blog for anyway…

    And then, when I feel like the most recent wave of disgust at actually having an Alien Registration Number, or across the pond, of having o put up with the pasty-white (pale blue) dourness of the fucking Scots, I read a bit of Olgetta, and think, ah yes, someone else does have some vague inkling of the sewerish nature of life outside of the s-bend of the south pacific, Oz.

    Not that I think life “down-under” is really a great deal better, but at least the beer is cold, and not either weak-as-piss (US), or warm-as-piss (UK).

  2. 2 ledanski August 13, 2009 at 11:26 pm

    Hey George

    The new pic has its own charms tho’ … loving the land of the low cloud … much less apocalyptic than the previous shepherd’s delight inspired one?

    … but I am sure as hell that ‘charm’ is a warm gun without the calming fronds under which to hide ones head on a hot day in POM.

    I do enjoy reading your effusive tappitty taps so keep it coming when you can!!

    L.

  3. 3 alba September 16, 2009 at 11:52 am

    where are yooooo?

  4. 4 CRANKY September 17, 2009 at 8:39 am

    I was eaten by AusAID.


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