Eyes Above The Waves
Robert O'Callahan. Christian. Repatriate Kiwi. Hacker.
Archive
2024
October
June
April
2023
December
November
April
2022
December
September
July
May
April
March
January
2021
December
November
October
September
June
May
April
March
February
January
2020
December
November
October
September
August
June
May
April
March
January
2019
December
November
October
September
July
June
May
April
March
February
January
2018
December
November
October
September
August
July
June
May
April
March
January
2017
December
November
October
September
August
July
June
May
April
March
February
January
2016
December
November
October
September
August
July
June
May
April
March
February
January
2015
December
November
October
September
August
July
June
May
April
March
February
January
2014
December
November
October
September
August
July
May
April
March
February
January
2013
December
November
October
September
August
July
June
May
April
March
February
January
2012
December
November
October
September
August
July
June
May
April
March
February
January
2011
December
November
October
September
August
June
May
April
March
February
January
2010
December
November
October
September
August
July
June
May
April
March
February
January
2009
December
November
October
September
August
July
June
May
April
March
February
January
2008
December
November
October
September
August
July
June
May
April
March
February
January
2007
December
November
October
September
August
July
June
May
April
March
February
January
2006
December
November
October
September
August
July
June
May
April
March
February
January
2005
December
November
October
September
August
July
June
May
April
March
February
January
2004
December
Friday 6 May 2016
Surely there never was such fragile china-ware as that of which the millers of Coketown were made. Handle them never so lightly, and they fell to pieces with such ease that you might suspect them of having been flawed before. They were ruined, when they were required to send labouring children to school; they were ruined when inspectors were appointed to look into their works; they were ruined, when such inspectors considered it doubtful whether they were quite justified in chopping people up with their machinery; they were utterly undone, when it was hinted that perhaps they need not always make quite so much smoke.
Charles Dickens,
Hard Times