HAWKING'S UNIVERSE

Do I understand well? Does Stephen Hawking really claim that the universe created itself and, at the same time, that God exists; or at least that both of these theories are perfectly plausible and can co-exist? As a child, whenever I asked:"...and who created God, then?" I was told He had ALWAYS existed. It never occured to me then to ask:"WHERE?"

It's easy to imagine oneself in a room with a table on which someone has placed a completely void, transparent container which has been hermetically sealed, AND WE WAIT, AND WE WATCH FOR SOMETHING TO HAPPEN. Would THAT be the state before the universe came into being? No, because that container is itself INSIDE a space and, therefore, it is subject to the influences of that external space. No experiment could really reproduce the conditions that existed before The Creation because these external influences would always exist and we'd always be asking ourselves:"And WHERE DID ALL THIS TAKE PLACE?" Similarly, the Big Bang theory lends itself to the same questions: WHERE? and HOW?

But what about GOD? Here we also have two questions: WHO or WHAT is GOD? and again WHERE was, and is, HE? We don't need to ask HOW because we're speaking of GOD, to whom all is possible.

Now, some scientists have come up with another claim: The universe has its days counted. It cannot expand forever. Expand where? Where exactly IS the universe placed? Can we fathom an outer region with no limits into which this expansion is taking place? Because the moment you place limits, you're saying it's INSIDE. So, WHAT is OUTSIDE?

I'm not a scientist and do not pretend to throw light on these misteries. But neither am I stupid. Both main theories are based entirely on faith, faith in the existence of God, or faith in that scientists really do know what they're talking about. However, anyone can put forward untested and untestable theories.

So where does that lead us? Logically, to a third, and probably more fundamental, question which must remain "forever?" unanswered: - WHY?

If the possession of FAITH is essential in order to believe in something, then as far as I am concerned, I prefer to place my faith in God, even though I do not understand Him, for I know I will never be able to do so. Humans should be humbly thankful and grateful to He who gave us all. We should not be presumptuously questiomimg HIM and attempting to belittle HIM by putting forward ridiculous theories that seem to aim only at demonstrating how easy it must have been to create something out of nothing.

BREAKING UP & PRIDE

Pride, more often than not, is the culprit.

How often have we found ourselves in a situation that required swallowing one's pride and making the first move? I'm not talking about dignity or honour. I'm talking about simple, practical gestures that lead to reconcilliation. I know, 'cause I have sinned, too! More than once.

Age, however, gives you the privilege of being able to measure your actions in the light of your, and other people's, experience. If the loss is negligible, then of course we needn't worry too much. But if it hurts.... if it really hurts, then for the love of Mike, get on the phone and call. Call him, call her, call alcoholic anonymous, call your mother. For Pete's sake, CALL ANYONE THAT MATTERS.... but call!

This is a beutifully performed song by Lady Antebellum, a country group. Written and composed by D. Haywood, C. Kelly and H. Scott (components) and J. Kear, it illustrates the point rather nicely. (Courtesy of youtube.com and saxophonegirl13. Thank you both). Enjoy

ALL HALLOWS RC SCHOOL, FARNHAM

Lately, I've been recalling my years at school, wondering what has become of my former schoolmates (We were the Post-War children who grew up with Dylan and the Beatles and read Mao's red book and answered the Student Revolution call and took the pill and won women's lib.). Most of them, I suppose, are approaching a well deserved retirement. Some lucky ones have already retired. A few, I imagine, have left us for good and I'm sure will be missed by their loved ones. How quickly these last fifty years have gone by and how much has been achieved in them: higher studies, holidays, romances, holidays, marriage, honeymoon, jobs, holidays, kids, fewer holidays, grandchildren, more holidays, and soon retirememnt - a permanent holiday. Is that the sum total of our lives?

I want to feel

- that we've left our mark, somewhere along the line,

- that we aren't going to simply disappear,

- that, along with our genes, we'll have transmitted something of importance to our future generations, our descendents,

- that, on the way, we'll have touched some lives, each with his/her own special magic,

- that, if we've been lucky and blessed with talents, perhaps we'll have also managed to leave behind something tangible, of substance, maybe some love letters, or a book, or a song, or a painting,

- and LOVE. Oh, yes! LOTS OF LOVE, along with the memories.

As I recall my years at school, I browse through my photograph album, read my schoolboy diary, some letters that have somehow survived this last half-century, and I feel a nostalgic smile forming as my lips murmur, first a name, then another.

The school, ALL HALLOWS ROMAN CATHOLIC SCHOOL in FARNAHM, SURREY, will be celebrating its 50th anniversary next year (Hopefully, I'll be able to make the trip and get together again with friends from the past), so, I'm putting together a special record of events, as I recall them. IF YOU WERE THERE, during its first five years, and have any documents of any sort that you'd like to share, feel free to contact me. I'd love to include them.

A couple of photographs on the left. The one at the top of this article shows Mr Doyle, the first Headmaster, wearing his usual black toga and heading, seemingly in a hurry, for the playground.

SUMMER

It's back, again.

I came here looking for the sun and now I find I hate roasting in it!

I really can't stand the oppressive summer heat, the sweat slowly dripping from my brows, the shirt sticking to my back, the constant thirst and need to refresh myself, the packed beaches and the flying sand that penetrates every pore in my body, the polluted Mediterranean waters full of jelly-fish and domestic waste - shall I go on?

So, when the long-awaited, by others, holidays finally arrive, I choose to sleep during the day and thus escape from the harmful ultra violet rays and the hot temperatures that bathe the country when the sun is out, and, like vampires and bats, I come out at night.

Of course, I don't go round sucking blood and transforming my fellow human beings into nearly perfect replicas of Count Dracula. No, no, that's not for me, thank you. I'm quite happy with my present low fat, low salt, and low sugar diet. I prefer to sit at one of the numerous "terrazas" that most bars offer these days and sip an iced coffee or a Martini Rosso. I watch the scene and try to absorb every detail; the colourful summer - and usually very sparse - clothes, the continuous to and fro, the excerpts of conversation I snatch here and there, the fragrance of the different perfumes and eau de colognes Spaniards love to spray on themselves before going out (and frequently even whilst they are out), or engage in pleasant conversation with the numerous friends I've made since coming to live here over twenty-five years ago.

Then, in the early hours of the morning, when the bars have finally pulled their metal shutters down and everyone has departed, I make my way home, sometimes, especially if the Martini was particularly good, following a slight detour, and sit at my computer to play a few games of "blitz" chess before starting to write.

The choice is wide: something new, something already started, something finished and in need of revision, a piece of poetry, some ideas I jot down, an e-mail, or two, a new article for my blog, and always music in the air, soft classical music, usually. And coffee, or tea.

But, unlike bats and vampires, I don't crawl back to the profound darkness of my cave when the first golden rays of the morning sun appear. I go on with my self-imposed task. I continue till I feel the first effects of its warmth raising my body temperature. Then I know the time is right. I draw the shutters and close the windows, lest the outside temperature invades and disturbs the coolness of my seclusion. I have a hot shower, followed by a cool one, and, having discarded my bathrobe and dried myself thouroughly, I lie naked on the white cotton sheet of my wider-tan-average bed and turn the light out.

Autumn is just a little nearer.

SUCH A NIGHT

In the words of an old Elvis Presley hit:"It was a night, what night it was, it really was such a night!"I only just got the photos, which is why I hadn't posted anything before.

Anyway, to cut a long story short, back in February, one of my courses ended and the students suggested having dinner together to celebrate. Well, I always enjoy an evening out with my students, and in this case even more so because they were all women, ALL young, and ALL attractive. Wow! Was it going to be fun!

We met at 9 pm at the local "Vienna", where we ordered a wide variety of goodies. I had a small salad, a chicken roll and a Diet Coke. We talked, we laughed, we cracked jokes, we recalled special moments in class. Some of them showed photos of their children, we exchanged gossip and, in general, a good time was had by all.

At about 11 o'clock, one of them suggested going on to a bar for drinks, so I took them to a friend's bar - a Heavy Metal bar, I should stress - to help him out a little as times are a bit hard at the moment. We piled up into a couple of cars and headed for the joint. When we got there, there were exactly six guys inside! Well, it was a Thursday night! Naturally, he was delighted to see me arriving with a bevy of beautiful maidens and was already counting the "Cuba Libres" he expected to sell. Anyway we all crowded around some stools near the stage and placed our orders.

Just then a couple of guys went on stage with their guitars, and a third one sat at the drums.
That night was "Jam Session" night, so we were going to have some live music. After about forty-five minutes, my friend came and said he was going on the drums and would I like to go on stage. Well, I'm not Elvis, or anything like that, but I do give a reasonably good rendering of one or two of his songs. However, they wanted to play something with a bit of a beat so I suggested an old Black Crowes number with a simple chord sequence: SHAKE YOUR MONEY MAKER - you can listen to them live at the following youtube.com link:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_QK8cHwv6I0

By then, the place started to fill up, though not excessively. The girls couldn't believe I was going on stage so they all crowded in the front, forcing the rest of the drinkers, well, the shorter ones, to stand on their toes or a stool. Anyway, no sooner had I launched into the song that a scream was heard, then another, an another. The girls literally went "beserk". One of them got on stage to hug me, another tugged at my sweater (well, it was february and there was no heating on), while the others danced frenetically and screamed. The public couldn't stop laughing and pointing at them. Nevertheless, THEY ALL CLAPPED ON AND ON when I'd finished!
NEEDLESS TO SAY, I FELT LIKE A STAR

Later on, the mood quietened down a bit and I gave them my very own version of Hank Williams's classic "Your Cheating Heart", a favourite at parties, I might very modestly add (See youtube.com for an Elvis Presley version):
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mpYH7t0NrVc&feature=fvw

By about 2.30 in the morning I was absolutely shagged out. The girls started to get their bags and coats and called over "Are you coming with us". I said "Sure. Which one of you is taking me home?"· "Home?" they replied, "We're not going home. We're off to the all night disco!" Well, I think you can guess what my answer was... so I won't print it here.

THEY ALL LEFT .... AND I .... WAS LEFT WITH THIS WONDERFUL MEMORY OF A NIGHT TO REMEMBER.

UK GENERAL ELECTIONS

I've been living away from home for so long now that I honestly don't know what's going on there. I counldn't even tell you what the price of a loaf of bread or a pint, or is it a litre now, of milk is these days. I wonder whether any of the three main candidates shown below know the answer.

I'm a socialist at heart, though I liked Ted Heath and was sorry when he lost out after the "Three-day week". I finally left England, however, mainly in order to get away from the Thatcher doctrine.

I found Spain a much more dynamic country where I was able to bring up my kids in a much healthier and much better political, cultural, culinary, educational, and social environment. They now all speak Spanish and Catalan as well as their native English, and needless to say, so do I. Did you know that Spain leads the way in many sports, including Football? Motorcycling? Cycling? Motor Racing (Rallies, Formula 1 (until very recently)? etc.? Where's britain now, I wonder, and will it get back on the track in time for the Olympic games?
I have found, through my Spanish experience especially, that hung parlaments usually produce coalition governments that cannot be as radical as those with an overwhelming majority. Instead, over a period of time, the partners learn to work together to produce laws and policies that benefit more people. In Catalonia, three parties have been working successfully together now for several years; The "Tripartito" they call themselves, or the "Three-party party".
I sincerely hope both the Labour and Liberal parties come to an "entente" and govern jointly for a while in the UK. I'd hate to see the tories back in power, even though it wouldn't be me who would have to live under their nightmarish rule!

THERE'S HOPE FOR US YET

A couple of weeks ago I was rushed to hospital with breathing difficulties. The medical team diagnosed coronory failure and sent me for a "catheterism" operation. This is not as complicated as it sounds. The surgeon introduces a very thin catheter through one of the main arteries to check out the bloodflow in your heart and repair the damage (see image on the left). The following link explains it in more detail. http://www.americanheart.org/presenter.jhtml?identifier=4491

The whole procedure took less than an hour and I was fully conscious during the whole operation. Really, I felt like a car being taken to the garage to have a faulty valve replaced!

Anyway, the extraordinary thing was that afterwards, the surgeon approached me to check if I was OK and asked me where I was from (all this took place in a Spanish hospital). I said I was English and he looked surprised. "From your name I thought you were Jewish," he said. "No," I replied. "In fact I'm Catholic." "OH!" He said, "I'm Palestinian!" I just stood there staring at him for a few seconds and finally we both burst out laughing. The man had operated on me as best he could, even though he thought I was a Jew!

I don't remember his name, now, but I really do want to thank him from the bottom of my heart.

UP?....OR .... DOWN?

Some years ago, on a visit to the South of France, I was horrified to find a hole in the ground where I had expected to see a gleaming, white toilet bowl. Not long afterwards, this time in Spain, I once again found myself transported to the middle ages (and to my early years in North Africa) when the hole-in-the-ground fixture stared at me from the bowels of the earth. Needless to say, I restrained myself on both occasions and waited until I was back at the hotel - not out of prudishness, I might add, but because of a bad back!
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Squat_toilet
Modern toilets, the kind you sit on, are not as modern as we mught think - circa 2800 BC- though their use was restricted to the affluent classes. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/History_of_the_toilet#History
It was not until the middle of the 19th century that they became common in Europe. I suppose that is when the Great Debate began!

SO, women want it down, so they can sit on a clean, dry seat, whereas men prefer it up so they can aim directly into the bowl. Here's a part of a lovely poem I came across on the www. It clearly, and poetically, illustrates the"loving" consideration that women expect from men.

But of all the signs depicting love,
there are few that can compete
with the man-of-the-house remembering to
put down the toilet seat!
http://www.theplumber.com/wclid.html

I won't argue with THAT!

HOWEVER ... It would appear that the OTHER alternative, leaving both the seat AND the cover down are not acceptable either by the more-and-more-demanding female population. Apparently, when women want to pee, they wait until the very last minute and then rush into the smallest room in the house (and God help us if it's occupied!) like a bull in a china shop. Then, with their back to the toilet bowl, they spectacularly carry out three actions simultaneously. They pull up their skirt (with jeans, of course, things get a bit more complicated), they pull down their nickers, and they let themselves plop down onto ....... the lid, where all their accumulated-under-pressure liquid reserves are released! UGHH!

WELL, I ASK YOU!

I love women and would never dream of offending a single one of them. I hope they'll take all this with the same dose of fun and good humour I felt when writing it, and then reflect on my conclusion.

FLUSHING the toilet, may seem to have nothing to do with this "battle-of-the-sexes" debate. But in fact, it has everything to do with it. I take it we all agree that whether you've been "weeing" or "pooing", flushing the toilet is a "follow-up" must. Did you know that when a toilet is flushed, it sprays droplets of its contents into the surrounding air? Millions of parasites floating freely and happily in your bathroom, eagerly clinging to the tiles, to the mirror, to your bath curtain, to your toothbrush even! Cryptosporidium & friends are absolutely thrilled when you fail to put the lid down before flushing your toilet! Read about Dr. Charles Serba's work at
http://www.nytimes.com/1999/02/23/health/scientist-at-work-charles-gerba-on-germ-patrol-at-the-kitchen-sink.html?sec=health. I'm sure you'll end up convinced

SO, LADIES, LET'S DO A DEAL. We will be delighted to put the seat, and the lid, down before flushing the toilet, and leave them down, with no strings attached. Perhaps you might just like to think about planning your visits to the loo just a little better and, just like in any self-respecting airport, get there in plenty of time. BY JOVE, I DO LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH!

2010 - HAITI

Belatedly, I'm afraid, I'd like to wish you all a happy new year.

In saying this, I am deeply conscious that for thousands of people in Haiti this year will be anything BUT happy.

It really is so dificult to understand that with dozens of governments involved, thousands of soldiers and volunteers in situ, and millions of dollars in help pouring into the banks, the thousands of tons of supplies already delivered are not getting through fast enough to the people who need them. They're just sitting there, at the airports and in the docks, rotting away in the hot Haitian sun, acting as detonators for violence in the street. Well, what else can these people do? If you're going to die anyway of hunger and thirst, at least go down fighting for a drop of clean water or a crust of stale bread. Surely there are plans traced for just such disasters; or have we not learnt anything from the Tsunamis, the Katrinas, and the other world-wide catastrophes we have been experiencing lately in these rapidly changing climatic conditions? Heads should roll. HEADS MUST ROLL.

INEFFICIENCY ON THIS SCALE CANNOT BE TOLERATED.

MAKE YOUR VOICE HEARD.... NOW!