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Stephen Hawking lived a life which could be observed, but not measured.
Hawking, who was diagnosed with amyotrophic lateral sclerosis when he was 21, spent much of the next fifty years making most people realise that they were actually pretty thick compared to him.
The disease is almost invariably rapidly fatal, and he said that his long life was proof that you should never give up hope.
He wrote several books about the nature of the universe, and the number of people who actually understood them was inversely proportional to the number of people who claimed to have read them.
It is thanks to his work that we know we cannot say for certain where he is, but we do know that some energy has escaped the universe – leaving only vacuum behind.
It is a fact that if you observe something, then you change it, and Stephen Hawking observed more of the universe than anyone else – and changed our reality in ways we have only just begun to comprehend.
Despite his contribution to science, Hawking’s relationship to his own work remained simple and human. He once observed that this would be a pretty poor sort of universe if the people you love didn’t live in it.
And now there is one less.
Following Stephen's passing, sources from Heaven today indicate that God is suffering an existential crisis having been defeated by Hawking’s logic.
God is understood to have personally popped down to say Hi and joke about the whole atheism thing, but following a brief private chat with the revered Professor, God appeared to wander away looking confused.
According to prominent angels God has since been wandering about muttering, “But I could swear I created it. Yes, there was a Big Bang from the kitchen around the same time but that was just coincidence – wasn’t it?
“Why does he keep claiming that we can’t understand what came before it? It was probably my bloody cat. It usually is. But then I was drinking that night. Did I dream all that Creation stuff? I have to admit he does make a very compelling argument for his version of events at the start of the universe.
“I mean, it’s more than possible he’s completely correct. Oh no, does that mean I’m not even real?”
(With thanks to 'News Thump').
Jim Bowen has found Bully’s special prize waiting in heaven.
The presenter of Bullseye has died at the age of 80.
“He’s done very well in the category of showbiz,” confirmed God.
“You can’t beat a bit of Bully, and you can’t have a bit of Bully without Jim Bowen.
“He was always entertaining and managed to make darts more than just fat men lobbing tiny spears at a bit of cork for money. I’d always make time to watch him at tea-time.
“My favourite bit was at the end of the show when he’d sometimes reveal that two heterosexual men who didn’t live together had won a single fitted kitchen. Fantastic stuff.
“However we wanted to give Jim something special, so we got him the speedboat he probably always wanted.
“All those years giving away these fabulous water vessels to contestants from lake-free places like Reading or Wolverhampton and unable to take one out on the lakes himself – well all that’s changed now, Jim. It’s your turn to have a go in one of these beauties.”
The late Jim Bowen said, “I would have been happy enough with a Teasmade, but this is quite something.
“…are there lakes in heaven?”
(With thanks to 'News Thump')
Posted on: Mar 13, 2018 at 6:42 PM
Just a couple of songs I can't get out of my head at the moment. The first is Josh Groban's version of Neil Young's Harvest Moon and the second is by a couple of blokes who go by the name The Dualers who used to busk in North End Road, Fulham among other places.
Turn your volume up and enjoy......
BT have continued to 'bounce' Emails ending in @btinternet.com from this IP address on the grounds of there being too many. They're treating them as SPAM. We're still working on a way around it but it could take a while. As this has affected both of the last two messages I sent out I've put them together and placed them here in case anyone with an @btinternet Email address hasn't seen them and just happens to be reading this page -
" The website's Instant Messaging feature (the little box that appears at the bottom of the website after you log in that allowed you to hold a real-time conversation with any other member logged in to the website at the same time as you) has been a little unpredictable for some time now so I checked with the programmers to see what the problem was.
As this is a feature that requires Flash to be installed to allow it to work and we have known for some time that the various browsers are gradually blocking Flash for security reasons, the programmers are not yet sure how or if they are able to address the problem without a major rework of the feature. It could be some time before they know whether it will all be worthwhile or whether they'll have to scrap Instant Messaging altogether.
As I don't think it's a feature that any of us have ever made much use of, and I remember telling the programmers at the time that it was probably unnecessary, the likelihood is that it will be removed at some stage. So, depending on which browser you use, you may or may not still see the feature for a while (but from 2020 it is likely that Flash will not be supported in any browser) but it is unlikely that you will be able to use it anyway.
The article on the following link is from July last year but explains better than I can what will be happening regarding Flash and provides an approximate timescale. Copy and paste it into your browser's Address Bar -
Further to the above, I searched for a personal solution and found one on the following link, which works for me (at the moment!) -
If you're interested and a Chrome browser user, you might want to give it a try.
All the best,
Posted on: Feb 15, 2018 at 6:54 PM
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Posted on: Feb 09, 2018 at 12:38 AM
Just thought I'd mention a small coincidence (or was it spiritual guidance?) I've just come across.
As you'll see from the Sloane History page, Sloane and Carlyle schools were formed in 1895 when the South Western Polytechnic Institute in Manresa Road, Chelsea created a day school for boys and one for girls.
Manresa is a city in North East Spain where St Ignatius Loyola, a basque priest and theologian, used a cave as a spiritual retreat and founded the Society of Jesus (Jesuits). I mention this because, by coincidence, Sloane's old playing fields in Dover House Road, Roehampton were used by the University of Roehampton until recently and one of the college buildings, the Grade I listed Georgian villa Parkstead House, originally built for the 2nd Earl of Bessborough in the early 1760s, was re-named Manresa House after becoming a Jesuit seminary in the mid-19th century. -
Posted on: Feb 08, 2018 at 1:21 PM
As most of you will already be aware from a post or two I made last year, Clive Woosnam, website member and one time Sloane Geography master, has terminal cancer. Yesterday, from his home in Australia, Clive emailed me the following beautifully written piece which he is happy for me to publish here. Clive is certainly not a man looking for sympathy of any kind but he is a man who is facing the inevitable with great fortitude, tremendous spirit and undoubted humour. I believe this article gives an insight into the man he his and how he is dealing with his cancer. I haven't shown it here to elicit comment but if there is anythingthing you would like to say please feel free to do so here or email Clive via the website. The photo is one of the most recent taken of Clive -
TERMINAL CANCER LEAVES PLENTY TO LAUGH AT
" When the invitation to the palliative care Christmas party arrived, it didn’t take me too long to accept. After all, I reasoned, this should really be a memorable occasion: the last such event we would probably ever experience. I arrived at the rooms in the hospital with my wife Helen to find about 30 people there, and a band with three electric guitars, a keyboard and drums. I looked around at the gathering and was suitably impressed.
“They don’t look too bad for palliative patients”, I remarked to Helen, “except that poor fellow over there – his days are certainly numbered. And that woman in doorway is living on borrowed time”.
I decided that there were three or four more in the same position but the group as a whole seemed surprisingly healthy. Surprising, that is, until the MC thanked every one for coming, especially the volunteers, nurses and admin staff, who all raised their hands as directed when being thanked. I suddenly realised that I was the only patient there. And the poor sick souls seemingly at death’s door were people employed to help me.
I always imagined that if I were given a few months to live I would be totally depressed and incapable of appreciating other people's humour, let alone be able to think up humour of my own. Yet, when the moment came in late December 2016 that the oncologist told me I had two months to live untreated, a median figure of six months to live with treatment and a one in twenty chance of lasting two years, I accepted his words with no sense of surprise and have felt not a whiff of depression since that day.
Perhaps it's because I didn't believe him, as I don't feel ill in any real way and certainly don't feel that death is just around the corner. Perhaps it's because, if I'm wrong, and death suddenly stares me in the face, I think I can handle the situation and accept my fate without too much complaint. Perhaps it's because I really have found comfort or humour in my situation.
Until December 2016 I did my daily crossword to stave off Alzheimer's and keep my brain fit. Now, theoretically, I don't have to worry about my brain in ten or twenty years’ time - I can do my daily crossword simply because I enjoy it. Moreover, all sorts of physical ailments can now be ignored. I won't bother with my imminent colonoscopy, and I won't need to wait for the Tinnitus hotline to answer - it can just keep ringing.
Chemotherapy does pose some side effects but even they can have a positive side. My taste buds have been deadened by the treatment. It means my porridge needs more sweetener and some salt to provide any flavour, but my rough red quaffing wine now tastes as smooth as Grange Hermitage! And the 26 kg of my former weight removed by my voracious tumour means that I can walk further and faster than I have for years, much to the delight of my Dalmatian Ozzie, who comes on my 7km morning walk to feed the fish in Pittwater. What’s more, I can eat as much as I like, or my diabetes will allow.
One delicate problem I haven't solved is that of stomach gas. With my pancreas totally non-functional and a radioactive isotope implanted in it I have become a significant contributor to global warming. It is also potentially very embarrassing socially, and my well-behaved dog gets a lot of peculiar looks from friends who haven't worked out the correct source of the aromas coming their way.
Chemotherapy hasn't been in any way unpleasant, but I must admit that radiotherapy has been quicker and more enjoyable. Though there is no heat on the skin, the whole process is reminiscent of lying on the beach, looking up at the white fluffy clouds in the blue sky moving across the ceiling. I have suggested that the hospital play a CD of breaking waves and the cries of seagulls to complete the illusion. Were the treatment not in midwinter I would have arrived at the hospital clad in swimming togs and clutching my towel.
At least I now know where to find the radiotherapy unit at RNSH though it is not mentioned outside or inside the lifts. I've discovered that all I have to do is follow the signs to the Mortuary in the basement, and there it is! "
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