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Lies Make Baby Jesus Cry
April 11, 2004, 10:45 p.m. “That’s my university! What are all those red poles for? Why the hell are there red poles all over the Front Lawn?” “That’s not Admissions, that’s the Education Building!” “You can’t get through that door, it’s locked!” “Why isn’t Matthew Newton in my lectures?” “Our library does not look as nice as that.” “That walk-way doesn’t connect to that foyer!” “I wish Sam Neill was my lecturer.” – thoughts from a viewing of My Mother Frank. I’m meeting my wife tomorrow – taking her to a movie about a school shooting. Aren’t I romantic? Hope you all had a good Easter. I managed to not make myself sick on chocolate, so I count it as a success. However, there weren’t any Jesus cartoons on this morning. I was most displeased. I did get to see a bit of St. Francis throwing tiles off a church roof and berating some monks in Italian, but then my dad flipped over to this documentary about power struggles within a monkey pack. He’s going down to Canberra on Tuesday, so he can be near my grandmother for a couple of weeks. She’s suffering from Alzheimer’s. I feel a little guilty. I can’t wait for him to go. He’s drunk right now. I better go.
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