Dancing All The Way down to the Graveyard (eBook, ePUB)

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21 quirky tales from the wacky side of laughter and love in the worldwide lunatic asylum. Here, the poor and loveless find solace in crime and the blurry territory of loyalty and optimism. People are so similar and so different, every one of us in our own fashion dancing all the way down to the graveyard.Bombs go off and life goes on, for some. Happiness is everywhere, relishing in delusions of self-importance, love runs amok or sneaks up on us when almost too late, a woman invents men, space travellers bring culture to Earth. Everyone in these stories is born equal, except for poor folk. The ...

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"I'm not considered a proper writer in literary circles. My stuff just comes out, like the insides of an insect on the windscreen of a speeding vehicle, straight from the gut, with a bit of heart and brain-juice in the mix."

"Each New Year I see fireworks exploding over cities round the World. I can't tell if they are celebrating the bombing of Hanoi, Bagdad, Ukraine, or Gaza, or somewhere else next."

"Pity the untold victims of Victory's sins, pieceworkers on the process-line of revenge, pawns in a game of Lose Your Way to the End, where all is concealed behind the shield of bloodstains, bullet-holes & election posters..." - The Slow Motion Murder of Julian Assange.

"My life went on for two seasons and ten episodes before I realised, I'd seen it all before."

"Behind my back one of the Communist Party big shots muttered, When you see him coming, tell your ears to run."

"People crack up the minute I walk in the door. I can't see what they're laughing for. Was it something I forgot to not say? Too bad..." - Mad Dog on Crazy Street.

"You can't make a peace sign when you're wearing a boxing glove." - Anthem for the 21st Century.

"My neighbour believed in the afterlife. She often said, the best place to pick-up a good man is down at the morgue. I thought she was joking, till I turned up at her wedding. She asked what I thought of her fiancée? I said, "To be sure, he's a cool looking dude. But how come he's naked? And why is that baggage ticket tied round his big toe?"

"After growing-up among construction sites and factories of western Sydney, Australia, I became a homeless outlaw, hunted by Federal, State and Army police due to my refusal to collaborate in the US-led axis-of-evil against Vietnam. I was later granted amnesty under the Whitlam-Barnard Labor government. But I got no medal as an anti-war Vet."

"While on the run, my writing and cartoons first appeared on fringes of the Australian press, continuing in The Bulletin, Nation Review, The Australian, Sydney Morning Herald, Tribune, Overland and the underground tabloid Paper TV. They may also be found in obscure collections of poetry, in an illustrated homage Suicide Circus, in PsychoJunk recordings beginning with Mad Dog on Crazy Street (1999), and my first novel, Fatal Moments (published by Angus & Robertson in 1987)."

"Peter Bowler (Canberra Times) remarked on the "delicious thread of dry humour r...