Pizzerias, The Doughnut Shaped Universe, and a Hawking Hole that can’t be fixed

I wanted to come out of my writing fox hole to talk about an individual who not only changed the way we thought about physics and inspired us to follow in his wheel-marks, but also that obstacles are there to get in our way and not let them stop us entirely. The choice, as always, is ours.

Diagnosed with ALS, the man continued to live his life till he became a Legend. A mythic figure not only of titanic proportions in the physics world, but also as someone who refused to be labelled by his disability. This is an individual who didn’t need your sympathy, and would likely induce a muttered death wish under your breath, as he leaves you in the dust as he scaled ever higher.

A mind of such brilliance we will spend the next couple of hundred years trying to figure it out, but until then those of us with pipes and glasses on string can nod sagely and act like we knew what he was saying all along.

It’s funny to be saddened by the death of a stranger, but that is the power of this modern age we’ve all come to take for granted. There will be millions of voices decreeing him one of the most intelligent minds of our (if not all) time for his work in physics, but for it was something simpler and easier to explain, if still no less easy to do.

Here we have a man who had enough reason to become bitter and resentful to the world around him, and what did he do? He punched Seymour Skinner in the face with a boxing glove on a spring. Him “Inventing” the Hawking Chamber. And stealing Homer’s idea for a doughnut shaped universe.

There’s a precipice where an individual whose venn diagram of life will likely not been seen again. A genius who possessed a wisdom to allow him to overcome the opposition stacked against him so he could still be a human. And a man of such wit and barbed sarcasm that he can make Eddie Redmayne squirm after answering “I am an astrophysicist, not an astrologer” to Eddie’s “I see we’re both Capricorns!”.

You will be missed, in more ways than one, more than we will fully comprehend.

“That story was preposterous! Stephen Hawkins in a Pizz-e-ria”- Hubert Farnsorth.

Now Here’s Sundrifter’s “I want to Leave” to play us out. 

How I’d like to think he left us.

The End of The Road

So, I’ve been expressing more self-control than I expected as I push through the final revision of my first novel. One more chapter and then I’m done.

Sure there will be a little bit of editing. Some typo hunting. And all the little things that help fool people into believing that books are summoned into being, instead of laboriously slaved over for two years.

For all my writer friends out there you’ll know both my pain and my joy as I approach the final hurdle.

And for the rest of you, don’t worry, you’ll find it in your own time, you’re own way.

Killing the Monsters with a Word

So the snows left. The rains came. And little old women fought off great and terrible spiders, while the world (consisting of lots of bird cages) fell on top of her. All because a little girl wouldn’t do as she was told.

Saying no can be the most dangerous thing we can do, but we owe it to ourselves to not only do so, but to do it well. Who knows what monsters we may unleash, or what heroes we may become.

I welcome and love each of you that has stood your ground once or twice.

Just enough to feel bold. But hopefully enough that it doesn’t make you arrogant, ignorant. And all those things that turn you away from fighting for what you need to, and instead twist and re-shape into something perfect, noble, and just.

And all those other words that don’t make us human.

English Giants, and The Games They Play

So, today started with the problems of emphasizing the significance of the end of the world to a home full of pensioners. There’s been a little reading: a little lesson in the meaning of honour, and the savageness of true skill.

Later I get to see the ever talented Andrew O’neill, and The Men That Will Not Be Blamed for Nothing.

And in the realms of merry old England, the snow has finally left, leaving enough room for spring to settle in. At least we’ll always have snow angels, winter walks, and winds so bad you’d think an invisible giant had decided to start throwing trees around.


The Day’s Away With Books at Play

So, today got away from me.

There was a lot of writing about old women and the end of the world.

A new bookshelf of magnificent splendor (pictures to come), all coppers, greens, and most importantly: space.

There was a little bit of reading. Something about cats, and monsters, and eunuchs.

And finally there was a walk. In the last of the snow. With my best friend, the ever fluffy, Church.

A Tilt of Words

So today I came one step closer to finishing my novel.

Two year of curses, pleas, offerings, and when that didn’t work, writing.

I started to think about knights, and like writing, there’s more than natural talent (although it helps), there’s training, style, and technique. Then I wondered if I was a knight at all? Maybe I’m a duelist. A death defying bunko artist firing arrows atop a galloping horse.

I don’t know what I am. And I don’t think I have some new technique ready to unveil on the world. But perhaps I have a way of performing the technique that’s intriguing enough to get me through the door.

Who knows if I’ll be a knight.

But I’m proud to be a writer.

Dancing on Winters Dandruff

So, I’m from England. And in England we’ve had some snow of the past few days.

It’s hard to wonder how Britain managed to rule anything, when it’s crippled by the fall of winters dandruff.

Now I love snow, perhaps not as much as my dog Church, but both have enjoyed having the free reign of the wood just outside our house. Today has struggled with some serious wind, which had done its best to not only freeze people on the spot, but to then throw trees at them. And on top of that the ground itself seems to have become solid ice.

So strange to see something as silly as snow take on such a transition from the sweet Christmas nostalgia, to the bitter chill that got me hoping all the bunny rabbits and badgers were going to be alright.

I started to wonder about life, and how when we’re thrown into the chaos of a new job, relationship, the sorts of things, that leave us marveling at the world around us. A little more likely to smile. A little less worried.

Then its a week later, and the snows still there, just as deep, only now its been trampled from days of pressure and use. And suddenly we’re not walking on a winterland, but we’re having to keep ours eyes open, and our steps precise if we don’t want to fall on our backs.

And we are likely to fall from time to time. Slam. Right on our bottoms. But that’s alright, especially if we’ve got a friend close at hand to laugh loud and long.

But what about those other days? Those lonely days? Those stupid, difficult, get behind thee kind of day?

Maybe that’s why we need to fall, or take a snow ball in the face once in a while. That way we’re less likely to just lie there, waiting for a tree to dash our heads in.

Precariously Balanced on the Tip of a Sword

So, I was thinking. We need balance in the world, especially with politics.

Take conservatism, which is built upon an understanding how to continue to run a system with a fair degree of efficiency. The problem with conservatism is that its not very good at interpreting how data or information in a conceptual manner. They may have all the information, and a good idea of what will happen, but lack what is essentially the bigger picture.

New is bad as far as conservatism is concerned. It’s stupid to step out of what works in favor of what “might” make it better. It’s not rational.

On the other side is liberalism, which is heavily predicated on exploration, a system based on the fundamental belief that the answers are out there in the chaotic madness we don’t yet understand.

The problems with a liberal system is it’s prone to all manner of instability, especially when the flow of information we know as fact or history is abused and twisted for whatever reason.

The liberal system needs a fundamental history behind it if it’s going to do anything other than try and survive as the chaos tries to devour it from within. And even the great minds that come from liberal external thought aren’t going to be as effective as they could be in a system that’s at least mostly competent, but needs that extra step to something new.

In a system of lies and manipulation from the top down, the best the great liberal mind will likely understand is that the system is corrupt and needs to be mended if the culture is to continue.

In order to keep a system safe it needs to be built on conservative ideas, while at the same time not becoming so constricted that it becomes obsolete. And in order to have a fully functioning liberal system it needs to be built on a conservative system which can look back on a history of information that’s at least as true as the technology and understanding can make of it. You don’t want to be expanding thoughts and territories when you’re culture is going to collapse from within.

I think we’re in a period where we can’t trust our history and the facts due to the lies and twisting of the media, and this has led to a highly strung liberal driven thought that wants to do good, wants to expand and help, but has no understanding of the environment, and is likely to just tire itself out just in time for the chaos to come and feed on what’s left.

We need balance of understanding the system we live in, that understanding will help us see what’s wrong, and perhaps we’ll be lucky to have a few brave souls try and solve the issue without too much of a mess.

Keeping Both Eyes Open

So today I learnt a great deal of things. I learnt that February snows can be fun, if you have the right companion with a thick coat and sure feet. I learnt that monsters can hide in plain sight, which might be to do with their devious affinity with disguise, or just the fact that the world doesn’t need any more problems right now. And I learnt about castles, kings, and the things they stand for.

I seem to find myself reminded by emphasis on training your god given (genetic) talents to not only become someone worth knowing, but to help build a culture of equal importance. I also see that the son is not always the father, and god given right is often as much as a bane as it is a virtue.

What gives us the right to stand on the secure shoulders of a history we didn’t build when we give it no respect? What do we do to fight for our chance to be free? To be heard? To be alive?

Likely not enough, if you’re a regular human like me.

But there’s always time.

Pick up a pen. A book. A brush. Or your maracas. See what happens when you give them the respect you desperately want for yourself.

Keep your eyes open. You might see something remarkable.

Defending yourself with but a word


So today I learnt a thing or two. I learnt that being a king was as much about respecting the old ways as it was about forging the new. Some things are hard to overcome, no matter how good the ruler, or how odd the rule.

Then there are things which never change, but come in all manner of shapes shades and sizes: a cruel soul will always be feared as much as it is despised, and sooner or later you’ll find more than enemies at your throat.

I learnt how the mind is like a sword. How much in common a book and whetstone have in the goal of creating something sharp and dangerous. And how (like minds) all swords go to rust eventually.

Perhaps you can keep a sword from rust, but it takes more than one individual to keep its luster, just as it takes more than one to create a good person, or culture. Perhaps it’s up to us to learn how to care for these great swords, lest they rust, and in some cases how to use them, so they aren’t melted down entirely into something new.

Be weary of waving your words around. Use them well, for sooner or later you may have to defend yourself with them.