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Hey the is in its last few weeks � it's a program run by the Australian Literacy and Numeracy Foundation which aims to teach people in marginalised communities how to read and write. At the moment they've raised $174,502 and they are hoping to reach $300,000. So if it's something you'd like to contribute to, go and put your palm up there.

So good. Chill giving. I will be listening to this late tonight � edits!

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Is now showing! Admission price? A minute of your time.

Just kidding :)

Just the coolest band in the world, always :).

If you haven't been smiling enough lately, watch the clip for Loco.

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Yay!!! I mean it's a small step, but after all this time, and all this lobbying (thank you blogging community! thank you, )Ìýit means that those of you who have a Kindle, and are so minded â€� Well, you can finally read them!

Thanks also to Pam for letting me know!

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I hope you have the best year, and you get to live it exactly how you want :)

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I have these 2 on high rotation at the moment. God, she had style. I wish she hadn't wrecked herself.

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It's raining here � squally, southeasterly shite � and there is a complete lack of surf. It doesn't even resemble surf, it's more like sea puff. But for some reason rainy days and dead poets seem to go together, so instead of surfing, I thought I'd bore you with this thing I've got for Rupert Brooke.

Here he is, looking all thing-worthy:

You probably already know about him. Especially if, like me, you had to study his poem 'The Soldier' at school. But it wasn't the war poetry that got me in. It's his other stuff. I love it because it's young (which seems to be one of the reasons why it gets pooh-poohed � there you go, I have no taste). It's not self conscious or ironic or cynical. It's fierce feelings and yearnings.

Most of all, I love his references to the ocean. He was definitely a sea drunk.

Halfway through the first draft of Night Beach I came across a poem of his that I hadn't found before. In 229 words, he'd pretty much taken the trip I wanted to go on (except that my first draft ended up being 115,000 words � so much for brevity).

It's called , and it starts like this:

Come away! Come away!
Ye are sober and dull through the common day,
But now it is night!
It is shameful night, and God is asleep!

And it ends like this:

Unswerving and silent follow with me,
Till the city ends sheer,
And the crook'd lanes open wide,
Out of the voices of night,
Beyond lust and fear,
To the level waters of moonlight,
To the level waters, quiet and clear,
To the black unresting plains of the calling sea.

Just gets me every time. If you want to read the whole of it, clickÌý â€�