We didn’t start the ire

As published by The Footy Almanac, 5 May 2013

(With apologies to Billy Joel)

Jeff G won’t say, Rules Committee, Razor Ray,
Not specific, inconclusive, woe is the video,
Off season, Ricky Nixon, new rules on rotation,
No career, south career, maudlin Caro,
Gold Coast, crowds bomb, Grand Final ticket sham,
Stevo, “The King and I”, and Glenn Archer, why oh why?
Code wars vaccine, Sydney’s got a new team,
Kirk Tippett, Steven Trigg, Matt Rendell goodbye

We didn’t start the ire
It was always burning
Since the comp’s been turning
We didn’t start the ire
No we didn’t like it
And we tried to fight it

Corrupted draw, Brynne, Geoff, clash strips, what-ev
Silly fella, Fev-orella, controversy, shock,
Draft con, Ando gone, tanking did go on,
SportsBet, Betfair,  integrity schlock,
Einstein, cap fine, Sydney’s got a winning team,
Steven Dank, Peter Pan, AFL, head in sand,
Scully, Visy, Chris Judd, concessions arbitrary,
Princess Bruce, “delicious pace”, Seven’s in the sewers

We didn’t start the ire
It was always burning
Since the comp’s been turning
We didn’t start the ire
No we didn’t like it
And we tried to fight it

Little crock, hands in back, Mickey Mouse, out of whack,
Hamish, what a guy, just not seen on QI,
Gillon, has some gall, twilight football,
Meatloaf, music died, was so bad that I cried,
Ben Cousins, “No strikes”, west coast mafia,
Jumping hoops, don’t know, Tassie is a no-go,
Damo, Hutchy, Pay TV or BT,
Jeff Kennett, “Psycho”, undermining Clarko,

We didn’t start the ire
It was always burning
Since the comp’s been turning
We didn’t start the ire
No we didn’t like it
And we tried to fight it

Sheedy, Cameron, strangers in a strange land,
Wanderers, A-League occupation,
AFL Media, independence expedia,
Boys club, KB, money beats passion,
Gen Y, Player X, St Kilda schoolgirl sex,
Privacy blown away, what else do I have to say?

We didn’t start the ire
It was always burning
Since the comp’s been turning
We didn’t start the ire
No we didn’t like it
And we tried to fight it

Remote control, in the bin,
Ricky Nixon back again,
Truth shot, laughing stock, Ramsgate, N Bock,
Garry Lyon, Caroline, here comes another whine,
Demetriou I’m no fan, should be running Kazakhstan,
“Wheel of Fortune” penalty, MRP to preside,
Club debts, hard ball gets, rolling pack, Hirdy, PEDs,
Hypodermics on the floor, footy’s under WADA law,
Eddie and Mick Malthouse wars, I can’t take it anymore!

We didn’t start the ire
It was always burning
Since the comp’s been turning
We didn’t start the ire
No we didn’t like it
And we tried to fight it

(c) @JeffDowsing

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Rugby’s Lions; the original ‘International Rules’ pioneers?

As published by The Sunday Age, 28 April 2013

When the imminent British & Irish Lions tour of Australia was officially launched 18 months in advance it’s fair to say the news struggled to gain traction in footy mad Melbourne.

But as the AFL also continues to send overtures across the seas, the Lions’ quasquicentennial return to Oz serves as a reminder of their own intriguing genesis and quirky encounters with our indigenous offshoot.

To the uninitiated, the British & Irish Lions could be mistaken for yet another anomalous modern sport confection. The reality is the Lions are rugby’s meat and two veg, their tours as renowned for high class Union as fanatical supporters’ high volume drinking and singing.

Chosen from England, Ireland, Scotland and Wales, the Lions’ internationals against Australia, New Zealand, South Africa and Argentina date back to 1891. Simply, the Lions are a big deal in the rugby world, the real deal, dragging an estimated 30,000 fanatics across the globe.

A historical connection to Melbourne actually goes back further to the inaugural (unsanctioned) trip in 1888.  Spurred by England’s burgeoning professional movement, English cricket tour entrepreneurs Alfred Shaw and Arthur Shrewsbury led the ‘British Isles Rugby Union Team’s’ 249 day expedition.  Sixteen rugby matches were funded primarily by an additional 19 games of Australian Rules, whereupon the Brits triumphed six times – including against Port Adelaide at Adelaide Oval.

Their Aussie Rules debut was a harsh baptism though, against the Blues at the MCG in front of 26,000.  The Argus newspaper observed of the clash, theatrically billed as Carlton v England;

“The spectators were fully alive to the difficulties of the task which the visitors had undertaken, and every bit of good play was warmly cheered. The English followers too, were playing an excellent game, and perhaps were a bit too conscientious in striving to follow our rules instead of resorting to a greater extent to Rugby tactics.”

Not surprisingly, the local bluebloods easily prevailed 14.17.101 to 3.8.26.

Essendon can also lay claim to playing ‘England’, at the old East Melbourne ground.

Interestingly, the photo (below) of the 21-man squad was taken at what appears to be one of the old rugby fields at Flinders Park. Extraordinarily, the photo is dated 25 June 1888 – exactly 125 years prior to the Lions’ clash against Melbourne Rebels literally over the road at AAMI Park.

B&I Lions 25 June 1888

As a measure of the pioneers’ determination and advances in technology, in 1888 the S.S Kaikoura took 42 days to reach Tasmania from Portsmouth. The combined time it will take the 2013 party to reach Australia will be 19½ hours. On their return voyage, the inaugural Lions players passed the time by using catapults to fire at passing albatrosses. On their return flight this year some players may pass time catapulting birds at pigs on mobile phones!

Also worth noting, the 1888 squad were each given £15 to buy clothing and kit to take with them on tour. They were presented with a cap and just one red, white and blue hooped playing jersey. On their last tour (South Africa, 2009) each Lion was provided 80 pieces of individual kit.

Besides the sad lack of gear, there was also an element of real tragedy half way through the 1888 tour. Team skipper Robert Seddon drowned in an accident whilst sculling on the Hunter River in West Maitland, NSW.  Andrew Stoddart assumed the captaincy – a future England rugby captain and Wisden Cricketer of the Year.

Over the journey, the Brits hold sway 15-5 over the Aussies, although the most recent 2001 tour bucked the trend. The Aussies will require a considerable form reversal to repeat the 2-1 series win.  Unlike the significant challenges of 125 years ago, these Lions will be fully onside with the crowd, and the rules.

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Round 4; As you were Tigers

As published by The Footy Almanac, 23 April 2013

One has to hand it to the masochistic Tiger hordes who’ve stuck fat over three decades of cellar dwelling, false dawns and ninthdom.  And here we are again in April 2013, the jungle drums building to another premature crescendo.

Three solid wins over middling to piddling opposition might not sound much, but on the back of a gradually improving seasonal ledger and media luminaries such as Hutchy predicting a top 4 finish, then hell, what’s not to get excited about?

Despite deep seated psychological scars owing to the horror that was the 1980 Grand Final (furious 6yo me tore up KB’s footy card into iddy biddy pieces), it’s hard to hate a genuine football club with genuine football supporters.  Certainly those armed with self-deprecating senses of humour exemplified by Mick Molloy, an archetypal Tigers fan if ever there was one.

Close to game time the Punt Road end was chock-full of true believers.  It reminded me of my own mob on a Grand Final day; pale faces rigid with justified apprehension.  A pang of empathy was erased by another flashback to poor Stan Magro being made the fool by the wiry, wispy haired little rat.  Bah, on second thoughts, stuff ‘em alive those Tigers!  Time to get outta there and join my own bogan brethren at the Ponsford end.

Richmond began as if rising to the challenge of their ‘biggest game in 30 years’, meanwhile, to their detriment, the Magpies started like it was Round 4. Riewoldt channelled Roach in the number 8 guernsey and hauled in a ripper pack mark. Gradually Collingwood found intensity but under pressure neither team located their kicking boots, best illustrated by a Graeme Allenesque kick-in from the back pocket which found Maric dead in front, who duly fluffed the shot.

The second term improved as a spectacle, goals traded several times with the lead.  Collingwood’s forward threat was counterbalanced by a backline prone to flakiness.  Worringly, Reid and Brown are down to one and a half good legs between them. At least Shaw had engaged his brain today.

After the first half’s ebb and flow, Swan, Pendlebury, O’Brien, Shaw et al called on seven years worth of getting the job done on the big stage, slicing through Richmond with their run and spread. In between Sidebottom slipping under the opposition’s guard, as he does, Cloke monstered Rance at every opportunity. With an eye towards ANZAC Day, Bucks cannily used an undercooked Dale Thomas as his sub, twisting the knife in the latter stages of the goal-fest by unleashing the ace up his sleeve. Alas, Lynch’s sloppy goal inducing turnover, followed by another Tiger major before the orange break, stemmed the haemorrhaging.

A once 49 point gap was slashed to 22 when Richmond nailed a couple more, breathing life into their old school aggregation of yellow and black flogs and floggers.  Three goals was a reasonable return for Riewoldt, considering supply shortages and Vickery’s inability to provide the level of support and structure that Lynch affords Cloke and the ‘Pies.  And like most Magpie small men, Swan also boasts enviable strength overhead, enabling Caro’s favourite gossip topic to appropriately snuff out her beloved Tiges’ revival.  Several Richmond aficionados kindly offered Travis goal kicking tips as he lined up alongside the fence, outside the arc, on his wrong side. Cloke’s colossal kick split the sticks and he duly thanked his rabid advisors. They’re great comic value Richmond fans.

Surprisingly, the finest Cloke to pull on the monochrome stripes had never bagged 7 before. Besides Trav’s career best form, as two inspired acts of recycling, the omnipresent old Clydesdales Lynch and Hudson have invigorated the side.

The Tigers? One can only speculate, but the many glum diehards I saw staring down at the Jolimont platform were probably mulling over how much longer Jack, Cotch and Deledio will be waiting for the requisite support crew to be bona fide contenders. And whether Dustin Martin cuts his own hair.

Collingwood     1.4        5.8       13.12      16.17.113

Richmond          3.3        6.5         8.6         11.13.79

Goals
Collingwood; Cloke 7, Sidebottom 4, Elliott, Clarke, O’Brien, Swan, Dwyer
Richmond; Riewoldt 3, McGuane 2, Vickery 2, Edwards, King, Houli, Maric

Best
Collingwood; Cloke, Swan, Sidebottom, Hudson, Pendlebury, Lynch, Clarke
Richmond; Cotchin, Deledio, Maric, Houli

Umpires: Rosebury, Meredith, Mollison

Crowd: 81,950

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A footy Haiku in 18 parts

As published by The Footy Almanac, 16 April 2013

Karma quells
The early crow

An army shares
Buckley’s hope

Great expectations
Playing at the Malthouse

Spectre of Dyer
Seasons haunt

A once mighty power
Soldiering on

Dank corridors
No exit in sight

Lyon on the line
Crossed wires

Inner Demons
Now on the outer

Autumn leaves
A distant bark

Paddle pop lion
Easily licked

Coasting by
A vacant high-rise

Money pours
Down a giant well

Crowded market
Roo for sale

Bounced and toe poked
Old Saints be damned

Hawks fly by
Windows open and close

Eagle one
Orbits the ‘G

Feline groovy
A belly full of cream

Swanning about
The spoils of victory

@JeffDowsing

With apologies and deference to Rob Scott on my Haiku debut – may the Review Panel be lenient for my crimes against Haiku law!

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Collingwood v Carlton: Faith in humanity restored

As published by The Footy Almanac, 8 April 2013 

Poor Mick.

In the remains of the day I used to spot the silver fox marching across from Westpac Centre through Melbourne Park, over the footbridge and past the MCG to his low rent Jolimont digs. Now at Carlton, it must be quite a journey to and from Priceless Park, or whatever it’s called these days.

As an environmentalist it must also cause Mick pain the many forests pulped dissecting his issues with Ed, and the contract he willingly signed, and later recanted after a pang of buyer’s remorse.  It’s easy to understand how his family lost faith in humanity. Fancy giving Mick a measly decade to deliver the goods at roughly $1m p/a, only to ease him into his dotage with similarly paltry superannuation package.  It’s enough to have poor Christi busking in Fed Square.

But this game wasn’t about Mick, or at least it wasn’t until Mick magnanimously took one for the team.  And nor was Mick thinking of Ed, as Mick claimed, despite mentioning his distaste for Ed’s conciliatory bread.

No, this was another chapter in the greatest rivalry in Australian sport, a 120 year struggle between good and evil far outweighing two men’s egos.

For supporters, all week senses are heightened, nerves on edge. Children best behave.   And those who barrack for neither side enjoy basking in the assuredness that one of the two most hated teams in the competition will be experiencing abject pain at the final siren.

A warm morning and gusty conditions augmented the game’s finals feel.  The dark clouds looming ominously to the west would later fulfil their dramatic promise.

Having walked virtually all the way to the station before realising I’d forgotten my cursed Myki card wasn’t a promising start, but I reconciled that retracing my steps was nothing compared to the physical toll the combatants would pay.

A short sharp session at the Prince Patrick before the game with my mate ‘Tarpey’ (nicknamed after the battling ‘Pie defender of yesteryear) settled the nerves.  We discussed his poor ailing Labradors to further ease the tension. The surviving one is 120 in canine terms - twice the age of the old dog coaching the Blues. Remarkable!

To the game, and the Blues were up and running before the early deluge had many of the 85,000 fans decamping. Walker, Garlett and Yarran made the most of their opportunities in lieu of an injured Betts and Megan’s toy boy. Was Mick’s insider knowledge going to be the key to the downfall of his former charges, whom he professed undying love and loyalty for the 2010 flag?

But a new spirit has emerged within the 2013 Magpie line-up, balanced with the kind of bullishness typified by Buckley, whose stoic countenance amid the never ending war of words has been reminiscent of an Easter Island statue. That said, at 10 points adrift when the final quarter began, there was no margin for error.

Not only was the potential disaster of yielding the first goal averted, the Pies quickly goaled, and goaled again. Swan and Pendles upped the ante.  Relentless, composed Collingwood was back, but Carlton kept coming.  They’re always coming aren’t they?

Enter wee ‘Billy’ Elliott, who defied Charles Darwin and the Blues defence to jag five goals in a career defining performance. If the Big Q Stick does nothing else at Collingwood he will forever be venerated for his Herculian efforts against the arch enemy, bravely outlasting Kruezer in the absence of a busted up Jolly.  Another unlikely hero presented in the poised form of Sam Dwyer, a 26 year old freshman who’d been passed over more times than a Snack block Turkish delight. And in the interests of balance, Sam Rowe’s debut after overcoming cancer was also a fine example of humanity on display.

The Magpies’ big game experience, combined with an injection of quality fresh blood, produced a barnstorming finish.  I floated through Yarra Park to Jolimont Station.  Not only had the planets aligned, so had the train timetable for the first time in living memory. I revelled in the Carlton-centric carriage of despondency.  My thoughts turned to Malty and his lonely trek home from the ‘G.  We wanted to like you, it didn’t have to be this way.

Poor Mick.

Collingwood 3.3       5.5       10.10               17.15.117
Carlton           3.0       7.3       12.8                 15.10.100
Goals

Collingwood: Elliot 5, Blair 2, Pendlebury 2, Sinclair 2, Clarke, Dwyer, Goldsack, Shaw, Sidebottom, Swan

Carlton: Garlett 3, Walker 3, Yarran 3, Bell, Henderson, Lucas, Murphy, Rowe, Simpson

Best

Collingwood: Elliot, Swan, Pendlebury, O’Brien, Shaw, Sidebottom

Carlton: Murphy, Judd, Garlett, Gibbs, Henderson, Jamison

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Welcome to the Devolution

As published by The Footy Almanac, 7 April 2013 

A long, long time ago in a galaxy not too far away, back when Kevin Bartlett and his Tigers ruled football’s suburban jungle, American New Wave band Devo topped the charts with its definitive track ‘Whip It’.

Devo – those geeky guys sporting red flower pot hats – took their name from their theory of ‘devolution’.  In short, instead of continuing to evolve, mankind has actually begun to regress.

So has Devo got to do with footy, or KB I hear you ask?

Well, if what we’ve seen on the field so far in 2013 is anything to go by, and what can be anticipated next year when the full brunt of Bartlett and his AFL Rules Committee’s unrelenting slowdown style of football comes to pass, after decades of becoming ‘faster every year’ we are finally in the midst of a Devolution.

Of course the early going is renowned for scrappy, fatigue impacted contests, and few have predicted the ramifications of past rule changes with unerring accuracy.  Notwithstanding, a 1970’s contested, positional style of footy conducive to ‘markologists’ might not be the worst thing since KB’s combover.  Question is, will a product more closely resembling the VFL advance the AFL’s attempts to conquer the world, or at least Sydney’s western frontier?

Even since the introduction of the substitute rule sans cap, teams appear unable to execute physically demanding pressing or flooding tactics for more than brief ‘powerplays’.  Now that umpires are instructed to crack that whip on players moving the ball after marks and free kicks, and to initiate quick ball ups at stoppages, opportunities to marshal the troops for tactical deployment have evaporated.

Apparently the primary driver is reducing heavy impact collisions, and perhaps a desire to encourage contested situations where the ball is constantly in dispute.  However there seems to have been a failure to communicate what this means for the game’s spectacle, or the compelling research findings that point to an overall net reduction in injuries being achieved by pushing players to exhaustion.  In equating the interchange explosion to using five runners in a 4×400 race Tim Lane opined that the spirit of the game was compromised – but is effectively using three runners and turning football into merely a war of attrition a valid alternative?

Andrew Demetriou’s sudden ‘thou shalt be an interchange cap next year’ decree came as a shock.  Credit to the Rules Committee for granting Darren Jolly the opportunity to present his case (after the fact), and the expressed desire to seek the opinions of players, coaches and fans, but I’ve yet to see a straw poll asking what kind of football floats my boat. Despite all the interactive possibilities of social media, there is a sense of powerlessness over where the AFL is taking the game, and what the next gear change will entail.

Whilst contemporary rules aimed at minimising head, front-on and dangerous sliding contact are more than reasonable, granting players mere seconds to move on the ball, on the back of the substitute rule, is a double whammy that may have club strategists scurrying for answers.  It’s little wonder sports scientists are on as much coin as many footballers, that wealthier clubs are building institutes of football, and PED’s have reared their ugly head.  Andy’s cap next year represents a triple threat to the game’s aesthetic appeal and players’ physical coping mechanisms.

Clubs intermittently resting their stars has already come to pass, and in conducive circumstances players en masse, in order to get them past week 22.  It’s far from ideal.  Nor is the inability of strung out players to perform basic skills such as kicking over the metaphorical jam tin or hitting the side of a barn a welcome sight.  As for backmen granted nanoseconds to hit a target, being a bowler in the Big Bash would be a more attractive caper.

It’ll be interesting to see what footballer prototype will thrive.  If stoppages are minimised, how will ruckmen and clearance specialists fare?  My guess is tall, big bodied athletic types that are strong overhead will be in demand, as will old school rovers such as KB, funnily enough…

In the past decade the AFL’s rules have undergone more changes than David Bowie with all the popularity of Devo and their head gear.  Whether the Rules Committee are prone to unwarranted interference or responsibly acting in the best interests of football is a matter for conjecture. Nonetheless, painting a clearer picture of what they see as a Utopian brand of football would be a welcome insight for all concerned.  After all, it is ‘the people’s game’, right?

‘When a problem comes along, you must whip it’; AFL Rules (Vol 2); Proud KB

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For what it’s worth; Immortality

Full version of extract published by mX, 2 April 2013

For someone who in terms of average life expectancy just hit the clubhouse before embarking the back nine, death crosses my mind too much for comfort. The days, the months, the years seem to be spinning by like a pokies machine.

Russian writer Vladimir Nabokov wrote existence is ‘but a brief crack of light between two eternities of darkness’. It’s the most potent thing I’ve ever read. Needless to say I can’t comprehend the attraction of extreme sports or perilous occupations, nor grown adults who waste their days watching Jersey Shore or playing Grand Theft Auto.

As the only species on Earth cognisant of their own mortality, beyond survival, humans deploy their intellect and imagination to all manner of coping mechanisms and seemingly important distractions.  After all, endlessly contemplating the end credits just isn’t conducive to sanity, and like the universe, is too momentous and elusive to grasp anyway.

Unlike devout non-believer Richard Dawkins, I’m open to spiritual wisdom and actually envious of those harbouring religious faith in heaven or otherwise. Because it’s a darned sight less depressing than my projected rotten outcome. Even hell would at least be something!

So failing religious inclination, is there any shred of scientific hope for heathens like me, unable to accept the ‘eternity of darkness’ which lies ahead?  What’s the point of a legacy or achieving anything, no matter how wondrous, when it represents just another grain in the sands of time?

Quantum science and ‘theories for everything’ such as Robert Lanza’s ‘biocentrism’ have my grey matter oozing out my ears, however fascinating discussions are emerging on whether consciousness resides in our brain, how reality is uniquely interpreted, and how we ‘see’ and call upon images stored in our memory.

That mind and body could reside independently of each other is an improbable game changer that gives rise to a human ‘soul’.

On another tangent, Russian entrepreneur Dmitry Itskov harbours fantastic designs on accomplishing human-cybernetic immortality by 2045 (think Terminator/Avatar/RoboCop).

Nonetheless, we’re understandably dubious of anecdotal accounts of reincarnation, outlandish ideas or beliefs commonly associated with crackpot cults, or simply unable to buy into something so esoteric.  Nb. a 2009 Nielson poll reported 56% of Australians believe in heaven, 38% in hell and 53% in an afterlife (80% in the US believe in a do-over). A CBS News survey also found roughly one in ten Americans claimed to remember a past life.

Perhaps reincarnation is picking up slack where aspects of the Bible, when literally interpreted, resemble little more than a fairy tale? Or have people merely succumbed to Hollywood fiction? Notwithstanding, wholehearted wishing or believing doesn’t make anything be true, be it a ‘happy every after’ or God.

Professor Julian Huxley also believed rebirth could find harmony with scientific thinking.  Similarly, he drew some long bows on phenomena beyond our present imagination;

“There is nothing against a permanently surviving spirit-individuality being in some way given off at death, as a definite wireless message is given off by a sending apparatus…”

Given how television works still remains a mystery to me, I’d almost be prepared to grant Huxley’s far-fetched transmitter principle a dopey ‘ah-huh’, at least until the harsh light of logic renders the proposition more akin to a David Copperfield illusion.

Speaking of TV, with typical bluntness, Kerry Packer did as much to put the kybosh on such wishful notions of an afterlife as any learned scholar or atheist; “I’ve been on the other side and let me tell you, son, there’s f—ing nothing there.”

Interestingly, Lanza’s scientific reasoning that the physical world, our bodies and space-time exists in our consciousness demonstrates a convergence with spiritually informed thinking espoused by his progressively maligned supporter Deepak Chopra, and is central to Eastern religions where belief in reincarnation is a given. Swami Vivekananda, a principle disciple of 19th century Indian Holy Man Sri Ramakrishna Paramahansa, eloquently explained that according to Advaita philosophy this impermanent and ever-changing world is an unreal illusion called maya or samsara; and, that “all that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream”…

According to the Dalai Lama ‘we are born and reborn countless number of times, and it is possible that each being has been our parent at one time or another. Therefore, it is likely that all beings in this universe have familial connections.’

In terms of scientifically rigorous studies into reincarnation, none compare with Dr. Ian Stevenson’s work. Over 40 years he focused primarily on 3-5 year olds, often with notable birth marks or physical defects, who claimed to have memories of past lives and often violent deaths. Stevenson methodically documented around 2,500 cases from all over the world, but mostly from India and regions where reincarnation is a tenant of the prevalent religious beliefs. Whilst that alone calls into question the validity of his research, Stevenson rationalised to access a decent sample required parents who actually took such claims seriously, rather than dismissing them out of hand.

Many cases were readily refutable, when suggestive coercion appears to have been at play; others such as an Indian girl named Swarnlata were compelling. This was a rare instance where memories persisted until the subject was 10 years old, when independently she reportedly located and recognised her previous life’s husband and two children. Fantastic or fanciful? Stevenson went as far to surmise the average period between lives was about 15 months.

But it’s one thing to investigate the who, what and when – the ‘how’ remains the sticking point, let alone the ‘why’.

Reincarnation is a tantalising prospect though. Consider politicians, industry and general society acting more selflessly as their decisions impact on their own future selves as Earth possibly heads for a hot, watery grave. Or in the shorter term, envision the alleviation of pain and anguish for the terminally ill and their families, or those horribly bereaved by tragic loss.

One might alternately contend a more cavalier and reckless attitude would prevail, our bodies rendered as cheap and disposable as an iPhone 4.

But before you spend too much time contemplating your next run in the human race (or perhaps as a dog or a fish), Stephen Hawking’s brilliant mind emphatically dropped a wet blanket on the prospect;

“I regard the brain as a computer which will stop working when its components fail. There is no heaven of afterlife for broken down computers; that is a fairy story for people who are afraid of the dark”.

Gee, thanks Prof – not the ending I was looking for!  Interestingly, Hawking has also opined more optimistically whilst referencing an Almighty;

“God not only plays dice with the universe, he frequently throws the dice where you will not find it.

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