At least none were stuck together

You know those delightful little urban myths that occasionally happen in real life? The hope for little miracles upon which Antiques Roadshow is based, where some innocent is happily browsing a bookstore or Seconde Hande Shoppe and comes across a quaint little trinket which just happens to be worth millions.

[Actually, I take that back about Antiques Roadshow. Its success is based on the audience's hope that Old Lord and Lady Picklenose will present their supposedly priceless Faberge eggs only to be told that these particular examples were a popular prize at fairgrounds during the 1970s. "Probably worth between 5 and 10 pound - to a collector" the expert will explain cheerfully while Sir Chumpbottom's greasy smile droops down around his tweed lapels.
Don't even try to deny that you've secretly shouted 'Sucked in, you greedy twerp!' when that happens. But I digress.]

My thing is old books. I love the way they smell, the cool old tooling covers, the quaint little drawings and poems inside along with the copperplate inscriptions and the exciting dates - if they have any. I know nothing about it, but I still love the feeling of treasure hunting when I go into second hand book stores, looking for either comics or a bargain.

So there I am, in Port Elliot, about twenty minutes away from raiding the famous bakery and scouring the shelves for something cool.

I come across this:


It really is a beautiful little item, about 8 by 10 inches. 1865. Unfortunately, it appears that most of the pages have long ago fallen out - it's just cover boards and title pages. Fortunately, it's full of old drawings and lithographs. Like this one:


And this one:


Nice, eh? Then there's a few different ones like this:


and, erm, this:


Now I know what you're thinking.
You're thinking "What marvellous drawings! What fine detail! I must see more!"
You're thinking that because that's what I was thinking too. Then I turned that drawing over and found, well, this:


No problem. Very artistic, right? Right. Artistic. Great composition, a wonderful example of early photography in the naturalistic form which ....



... ah, yes, see, this is also a fine example of, um, what's obviously a collection of artistic interpretations of the early twentieth century appreciation of femininity as exemplified by the emphasis on .....

R ... right.
Hrmm ... well that still doesn't mean that I haven't stumbled upon a grouping of art works which can be recognised as representative of an era famous for its lithography and the skill of its craftsmen and artists, many of whom were ...

Okay then. Maybe it's just a coincidence. Maybe the collector just happened to have put all the racy ones at the front and kept the real groundbreaking artistic work at the ...


Nope. More naughties.
Okay, if the next one isn't sexy, then I definitely haven't stumbled upon some stone-aged secret spank book from a deceased estate.
Closing eyes, crossing fingers, turning page ... and it's ....

Oh.
Fucking great. Here I was, hoping to find a bargain first edition and here am, potentially handling the dried remains of millions of little 'first editions'. Gross.
Surely that's it.

Oh man. What is this stuff?
It looks like nuns were really the thing back then. I suppose they had to work out some way to spice things up - what with everything being taboo'n'shit. It's not like today with the internet and everything imaginable at the touch of a button. They probably didn't have a whole lot of weird fetishes or anything because it's not like ...



Does this book come with hand sanitiser?

Bewbs

I know I've probably brought this up a few too many times, but it bears repeating: theage.com.au, the website of one of the more respected broadsheets in the country, cannot seem to stop posting pictures of scantily-clad women. And it's becoming more shameless.
A survey of women about breastfeeding in public on their "catering to bored mums" site essentialbaby.com.au (as opposed to ... the other kind? The expendable, non-essential tykes?) ran with the title "Breastfeeding in public: do you?" and this picture:



Fair enough? Sure. Breastfeeding. No problem.
The link to this survey from another page contained a little image with it, you know: to catch the eye and illustrate the nature of story.

This image, of course:

Did you even read the last few sentences?

In case you missed it

I'd like to take a break from my prose-less journey through the life of Tony Smith to express my jaw-swinging flabergastedness at The Age's insistence on skin. I've probably said it before, but it is impossible to look at theage.com.au, without seeing what the medical profession refers to as 'a bit of tit'.


Go ahead, zip over there right now, I'll wait. You are going to see cleveage, side-boob, bikini-stretch or just plain old chestage. Failing that, you'll definitely get a crotch, some thigh or, if the puritans are webmastering, the full-face model pout. But not often. For a news outlet, they certainly don't trust their readers to hang around for news. They have to insert some kind of female skin into the picture, just to be sure you come back.


Take this morning's Lifestyle section image and bear in mind that I haven't doctored it any way.
"What's this?"
"It's this morning's front page image for the Lifestyle section online."
"Hmm. Too subtle."
"Eh?"
"People are going to miss the point. They will drain away from The Age and go and read The Onion or Crikey or something."
"Should I put a title on the picture or something? Let people know it's a fashion show?"
"No. No no no. See this section here?"
"Yeah ..."
"Drag across. Yep. Now enhance. Bigger. That's it. Now closer. Closer. Perfect. Now whack it right here, alongside the original."
"But isn't that a bit ... much? I mean why zoom in on the, uh, 'most important part' if you're going to leave the original there?"
"Are you kidding? We're not smut-merchants! Our readers just want a closer look."
"At this woman's cans."
"You'll go far."