A post box in Wallingford

My readers know that I love the little town of Wallingford. We try to go there as often as we can, because it is so darn enjoyable. During our last time there, we walked pass a post box with a pink crocheted dog on top of it. Although I am not a dog person, I found it so cute and quirky that I could not resist taking a picture. I believe it was placed there by a charity to raise awareness for breast cancer. Many post boxes in the UK have little extra things like this for special occasions, that makes them stand out. It brings a bit of fantasy to the mundane and trivial.

Christmas Eve Box

This is a Christmas Eve Box. I don't know if you have it on your side of the world, but here, families have gone crazies for them. You have one for your little one, you put in it things for him or her to enjoy on Christmas Eve, as a sort of ritual and thus stay patient until Christmas. Some special pyjamas, a few DVDs to watch in the evening, a book or two to read before bedtime, maybe some chocolates and candy canes, etc. Although right now it is empty. It was my wife’s idea to buy one. I am not sure if we’re starting a lovely new Christmas tradition or just giving in to more consumerism. But it was bought at a Cancer Research UK shop so our money went to a good cause, if nothing else. And it is quite a pretty box. Also, although it is empty for now, Wolfie loves it. I mean he likes carrying it around and sometimes throwing it. In any case, any suggestions for its content are more than welcomed.

Movember?

Early this month, a colleague told me: "Lots of people are doing Movember this year, why don't you join in?" I ask her why. She said: "Well, you look like you could grow a mustache easily." It is true that I had forgotten to shave the night before and that my facial hairs grow easily. Like ridiculously easily. Like it is weed. I knew I would be asked to do it sooner or later. But I replied: "I could grow a beard just as easily, and I'd rather have a beard." Which is true, and it deserves to become a great unknown line. It was my way to dodge Movember yet again. Not that I don't think the cause is bad: cancer is a terrible disease and men's cancers are not enough talked about. Cancer has hurt many members of my family and many loved ones. But like the ice bucket challenge, I often find the cause obscured by the event. And I don't think that growing a mustache would really be playing a part. I give, within my means, to many cancer charities, especially Cancer Research UK. I give money to them and I buy in their charity shops. And I find it more efficient that growing a mustache. Oh and on a side note I hate the thing.

King George V and speedball

The things one learns sometimes. I was checking about speedball, which is the name of the cocaine and heroin mix, or cocaine and morphine, on Wikipedia. I then saw King George V among the list of famous people killed by it. I thought at first it was pure hogwash, something added by someone with a twisted sense of humour, or some urban legend that got through.It seems that it is in fact genuine: his doctor apparently did give him a mix of cocaine and morphine to treat his cancer, which may have hastened his death. Of course, in later slang terms, the mixture would be known as speedball. And, for the record, I know of the term from Eyes Wide Shut. Not from any personal experience.

And what beautiful light it gave

It is not because something is expected that it is not sad. Christopher Hitchens died yesterday. Cancer sucks. I never read his books, but I did follow his work, watched countless videos of him, read his articles. I blogged about him before. I have decided to use the same title as then, as in an age when the forces of obscurantism are rampant, he gave us a beautiful light. This light was sharp, merciless, unapologetic, iconoclastic. As light should be. I didn't agree with everything he said (on the Iraq war for instance), but on the most I have to say he was spot on. He was a brilliant debater with a sharp mind and flawless logic. I think his critics, still virulent after his death (here is a sample), could never forgive him for being smart and logical, that he was everything they often failed to be. Well, we still have his aphorisms. And the homage of his friends. He died yesterday, but unlike many fellow primates, he certainly lived. Excessively, but can we have too much life?

Great words from a dead man

Steve Jobs died today of the worst disease mankind ever knew (I honestly think cancer is by far the worst disease ever, worse than the plague even). I knew little about the man, but I am an avid iPod user, so his life did have an impact on mine. And then I heard this speech he made at Stanford University, and those words had a strong reasonance in my mind. I reproduce them here:

"No one wants to die. Even people who want to go to heaven don't want to die to get there. And yet death is the destination we all share. No one has ever escaped it. And that is as it should be, because death is very likely the single best invention of life. It is life's change agent. It clears out the old to make way for the new. Right now the new is you, but someday not too long from now, you will gradually become the old and be cleared away. Sorry to be so dramatic, but it is quite true.

Your time is limited, so don't waste it living someone else's life. Don't be trapped by dogma — which is living with the results of other people's thinking. Don't let the noise of others' opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. They somehow already know what you truly want to become. Everything else is secondary."

You can read, see and hear the full speech here. It is something that an atheist like me can be easily relate to, about his own mortality. According to Wikipedia he was a Buddhist, but they are often technically atheists. In any case, I thought this was pure wisdom and very touching.

Hitchens on cancer

I blogged about Christopher Hitchens and his cancer before. He recently gave an interview to Jeremy Paxman. Like I said then, I don't like to blog about serious topics like cancer, but I am an admirer of Hitchens (who, even ill can still demolish the pretentious Tony Blair in a debate) and what he said about the disease that will most likely kill him has always been of a great lucidity. So I am planning to watch the interview on Newsnight on Monday.

And what beautiful light it gave

I saw yesterday the recent interview Christopher Hitchens gave to Anderson Cooper about his cancer. I got so fascinated by that I watched it twice in a row. I haven't read Hitchens much, apart from some articles here and there, but I watched him a fair deal on TV. I admire the man, his great culture, his profound intelligence and his merciless lucidity.

I don't really want to blog about serious subjects like cancer. I want this blog to be as much as possible about pleasant topics. However, I have a personal dislike for cancer (for reasons I might blog about one day) and what Hitchens says about the disease and what lead him to have it is both very thoughtful and poignant. He admits that he burns the candle by both ends and then says "what beautiful light it gave". Witty, funny and remorseless. I hope to be able to say such at the end of my life.