Some thoughts on the death of David Bowie

I am not a Bowie super fan, nor did I have any great belief that Bowie would not eventually die, as we all must, but...

My first conscious contact with Bowie was in 1990 or 1991, in a room in Newlands, with Tom G* and Stuart S*. I have no real idea now why I was there (I did not often visit Newlands), not even sure who’s room it was, Tom’s or Stuart’s, and I think it very likely TB was there with me. At some point the intro to Space Oddity began playing, on a turntable, as a dig. Fun was being poked by our host at one of the “spacemen” present (and there were plenty).

And then, about twelve years later, I met Korinna, and we would travel around in my heroic Cinquecento and the CD player would play a Best of Bowie CD on an almost continuous loop and I got to realise how Baz Luhrmann’s Moulin Rouge would have been nothing without Bowie, and got to know Bowie’s work in its own right. And I liked it.

And not only that, but it became very much connected with the early days of my time with Korinna, as it was an almost continuous soundtrack to all our on-road and off-road adventures (and there were plenty of adventures, and there was plenty of exploration).

So, farewell: Thanks for being the background music to some very happy moments in my life with K.

The cinquo, exploring

Jus' sayin'...

Once upon a time, there was an issue so important and so burning that you could not go to the baker without getting an earful. Of course, there were no referendums then.

Πάντα γὰρ τὰ κατὰ τὴν πόλιν τῶν τοιούτων πεπλήρωται, οἱ στενωποὶ, αἱ ἀγοραὶ, αἱ πλατεῖαι, τὰ ἄμφοδα· οἱ τῶν ἱματίων κάπηλοι, οἱ ταῖς τραπέζαις ἐφεστηκότες, οἱ τὰ ἐδώδιμα ἡμῖν ἀπεμπολοῦντες. Ἐὰν περὶ τῶν ὀβολῶν ἐρωτήσῃς, ὁ δέ σοι περὶ γεννητοῦ καὶ ἀγεννήτου ἐφιλοσόφησε· κἂν περὶ τιμήματος ἄρτου πύθοιο, Μείζων ὁ Πατὴρ, ἀποκρίνεται, καὶ ὁ καὶ ὁ Υἱὸς ὑποχείριος. Εἰ δὲ, Τὸ λουτρὸν ἐπιτήδειόν ἐστιν, εἴποις, ὁ δὲ ἐξ οὐκ ὄντων τὸν Υἱὸν εἶναι διωρίσατο.

As rendered by Kallistos Ware:

The whole city is full of it, the squares, the market places, the cross-roads, the alleyways; old-clothes men, money changers, food sellers: they are all busy arguing. If you ask someone to give you change, he philosophizes about the Begotten and the Unbegotten; if you inquire about the price of a loaf, you are told by way of reply that the Father is greater and the Son inferior; if you ask “Is my bath ready?” the attendant answers that the Son was made out of nothing.

#GReferendum #Yes #NAI #Ναι #WhatHaveTheRomansDoneForUs 

Some anniversaries

This year, two very significant anniversaries will come and pass.

On 11 July, I will close my twentieth year working for the same employer.
I doubt I will be able to work for another employer for so long, even if I started tomorrow.

On 15 August, I will have quit smoking for ten years, after 17.5 pack-years. I discovered the concept of pack years today and made an excel table, because that’s the sort of guy I am.
Nowhere on the internet says anything about what I win for my 17.5 pack years, although I am willing to bet that it includes the words cancer or pulmonary (or both).