h a l f b a k e r yBusiness Failure Incubator
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V. Sad news, mitigated a fraction by it appearing just
above “seat-
belt for saddle” and “self cleaning toilet seat” in the list
above: other [general]. |
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Suggested category "Halfbakery: [Remembrance]". |
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After all, he may have been One Of Us without anyone knowing. |
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(Pinching himself) Nope, still here. Anyone else missing? |
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>+< (Hawking radiation from a small black hole) |
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stop hawking radiation to the Russkies |
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//V. Sad news//
I don't know. I think he had a pretty good run for someone who was told that he only had a couple of years to live, 50 years ago. And then he capped it off with a peaceful death. I find it quite an uplifting story (not the actual death itself, obviously) really. Or perhaps that's just me. |
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He almost had an earlier and less-peaceful death about 35
years ago. I've checked my mirror before reversing ever
since then. |
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Hindsight's a wonderful thing, especially when it stops you running over an irreplaceable genius in a powered wheelchair... |
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//He almost had an earlier and less-peaceful death
about 35 years ago. I've checked my mirror before
reversing ever since then.// |
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Yea, that's probably not something you would have
wanted on your resume. |
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Gone but never forgotten. He will radiate forever... |
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Or at least until he runs out of carbon-14. |
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I always felt a bit of a thrill when he showed up in a TV show, or in print dumbed-down enough for us not terribly evolved hairless apes. |
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In poor taste on some levels of course, but Elon Musk's next extravagance should be a figure in a wheelchair, orbiting the Moon. |
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Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of earth,
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;
Sunward I've climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth
Of sun-split clouds, --and done a hundred things
You have not dreamed of --Wheeled and soared and swung
High in the sunlit silence. Hov'ring there
I've chased the shouting wind along, and flung
My eager craft through footless halls of air...
Up, up the long, delirious, burning blue
I've topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace
Where never lark or even eagle flew --
And, while with silent lifting mind I've trod
The high untrespassed sanctity of space,
Put out my hand, and touched the face of God.
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High Flight - John Gillespie Magee Jr, 1941 |
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If you would truly honour his memory, don't waste your time putting up statues, or naming things after him. |
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Just take his equations, and build a spacedrive ... |
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[Max-B] Apparently *everyone* has nearly run over
Prof Hawking - it seems to have been quite the thing
to do. See link |
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Can imagine the urgent typing and the battle of robot
voices as the lorry reverses |
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[hippo] Perhaps he was just messing with people. Back in
those days, he was still pretty nimble with a wheelchair
joystick. |
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