WPC: boundaries

Who, I ask, doesn’t like ol’ Omar K, as transcribulated by Fitzgerald? Screen Shot 2015-10-07 at 21.24.58

Cast your peepers at this gem —> and dare to tell me it’s not pure poetry. So the hair, they say, is the boundary twixt False and True.

Oh goody, I’ve often wondered … and now it’s your turn to wonder—as in this shot of a particular boundary: what the hell is it?

Screen Shot 2015-10-03 at 23.35.57

Give up? Already?

Then we’ll move on …

For my next wonder I’ve also pondered the thickness of the surface of water. (Don’t giggle, dammit! That’s a serious wonderment.)

How thick is the surface of water?

Does it matter if it’s hot water or cold water? Is duck-pond water thicker than that of ultra-chlorinated purified decontaminated regurglised sanitised Splash Palace in Invercargill?


… the surface forms the boundary between air and many wetnesses worldwide, great and small; kitchen-sink wetnesses and the oceans.

On those half-and-half photographs where the camera is semi-submerged the surface looks quite thick. Is it, though, or is that just a delusive illusion caused by the surface wetting the glass of the lens?


I’ve (hopefully) ruined your day, once more cast those same peepers upon that snap above which I took the other day in Queens Park, standing with legs almost astride a wee duck puddle … whatever else it does, grubby water surfaces make a good boundary twixt two worlds (just ask any tadpole).


How ’bout this, then … the boundary mandated by the state and enforced by the good offices of razor wire and old fashioned blocks—

Screen Shot 2015-10-07 at 21.57.19

—to ensure that bad lads are no longer free to prey upon We, The Compliant. So the boundary created by the hand of Man Per divides the false and the true … but the schlogg of old plastic bag blown by the vagaries of the wind couldn’t care less. So not all boundaries are set in stone, even when they’re set in stone.

(Bugger~! I just bit my tail …)





4 thoughts on “WPC: boundaries

  1. Razor wire and electric fences are pretty standard civilian fare out here.
    I can’t afford land mines, but I have on occasion considered a trench and few punji sticks. Though our law enforcement (sic) would likely take a very dim view of such methods of home security.

    1. I kinda thought it might be like that when I saw your photo taken in the street outside—all the high walls lining the road, and one (on the right) took it even further …

      1. I have minimal security and we have had a number of trespassers over the years. Petty theft, mostly, no house intrusions thank the gods.
        But it seriously pisses me off and when it happens I am unable to sleep for a week.

      2. When I lived in Devonport, late one night our bull terrier went quietly to the back door and stood vibrating (mere bristling doesn’t begin to describe it) so I just as quietly went over and threw it open. Dog went charging out—what saved the big Maori bloke (I followed) from something unpleasant was that dog couldn’t get a grip on the timber steps, gave the guy just enough time to clear the fence in one inspired leap. And he didn’t stop, I heard him crashing off into the distance.

        A good dog is hard to beat for peaceful nights … (perhaps this is why Islam hates dogs?)

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