Sharing - an indicator of a healthy life.
"Build your ghettos and wonder why they try to exterminate you. Build your castles and wonder why they turn their ploughshares into swords against you."Â
"Build your ghettos and wonder why they try to exterminate you. Build your castles and wonder why they turn their ploughshares into swords against you."Â
Alessandro, managing director of King Island Meatworks & Cellars. [Â http://www.kingislandmeats.com.au/ ]
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See here for what we did and suggest what we can do better next time ;).
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Here is Seth in the little wondersuit that godma bought! I think he looks like an old school Disney baby in it.
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David picked us up from Melbourne International past 1 am on Aug 6. The drive out of the airport looked like KL, except that the signs were all in English.
I guess modern international highways look the same, eh.
The further we drove, however, things started to look different.
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We got back from Melbourne today.
My dad picked us up from the airport at 7-something am.
Then we braved the welcome-back traffic through to Kuchai Lama for some dim sum.
After that we came home and crashed on the bed for a couple of hours.
At least I did.
Adeline got up mid-crash and caught up on her manga reading.
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Final fancy dinner by David. We fly back tomorrow night. (Technically, Tuesday am.)
Not pictured is most awesome lemon meringue pie by David who supposedly does not eat sweets. I reckon that may be changing in days ahead ;).Comments [0]
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I ponder about the migrants who land here in Australia and immediately seek out their racial sectors. Ghettos, at worst. Perhaps these are not marked by poverty in this land of plenty. Or perhaps they are marked. By a poverty of the mind. A poverty that turns inward or at best toward like-minded, like-coloured people.
Sure I'd seek out Malaysians if I landed here. I did, in fact. But my opinion is that our cultural enclaves should be staging areas into the great wide world, otherwise they become a self-congratulatory club of incestuous thought that's going to breed quasimodos of the mind. And then my thoughts drift back home to Malaysia and the migrants who do the same. And we're all migrants, really. Just that some of us migrated earlier than others. At some point, some societies try to demarcate their cultural borders. "This is who we are and we're not else." At such historic points their culture begins its last waltz of death, I care not who you are. Thankfully, their children often resurrect a similar creature from the ashes. A creature changed but close enough that observers often perceive it to be the same creature, but it is not. It is a new Phoenix. Maybe better, maybe worse, likely both. But that is the way things go. Who will we be tomorrow, Malaysia? We decide today. Or we die when today's sun goes down. Becoming the living dead, afraid of the dawn, afraid of the revealing light. Melbourne, 090813Comments [1]
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