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Augusta Georgia

 

Making our way east we decided to have lunch in Augusta.  Originally we'd considered this as a place to spend a night but friends had suggested Columbia, the capital and second largest city in South Carolina, might offer a better range of accommodation.  On arriving in Augusta their advice seemed to have been well advised.  Despite its famous golf course it's a small place, a little worse for wear, except for an apparently thriving car culture.  There were several historic cars, one an 'E Type' Jaguar and another with enough chrome to blind other road users, even on a dull day. 

There is also a surprisingly large museum featuring an historic steam locomotive with a full set of 'rail cars' and other historic vehicles, in addition to the obvious golf and by now predictable Civil War galleries.  In one gallery we learned that Augusta had an important role manufacturing gunpowder for the Confederate army. Other galleries remember the blues star James Brown, a local son, and local medical infrastructure and achievements.

 


Augusta Museum of History - Click on this picture to see more
 

 

The museum information centre recommended a cafĂ© across the road.  This turned out to serve traditional African American fare and we joined the other races there and ate in harmony.  This might have surprised someone who's only contact with Augusta had been the museum and who'd seen the segregationist signs and slave shackles displayed there.

 

 

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Travel

Argentina & Uruguay

 

 

In October 2011 our little group: Sonia, Craig, Wendy and Richard visited Argentina. We spent two periods of time in Buenos Aires; at the start and at the end of our trip; and we two nights at the Iguassu Falls.

Read more: Argentina & Uruguay

Fiction, Recollections & News

The Meaning of Death

 

 

 

 

 

 

'I was recently restored to life after being dead for several hours' 

The truth of this statement depends on the changing and surprisingly imprecise meaning of the word: 'dead'. 

Until the middle of last century a medical person may well have declared me dead.  I was definitely dead by the rules of the day.  I lacked most of the essential 'vital signs' of a living person and the technology that sustained me in their absence was not yet perfected. 

I was no longer breathing; I had no heartbeat; I was limp and unconscious; and I failed to respond to stimuli, like being cut open (as in a post mortem examination) and having my heart sliced into.  Until the middle of the 20th century the next course would have been to call an undertaker; say some comforting words then dispose of my corpse: perhaps at sea if I was travelling (that might be nice); or it in a box in the ground; or by feeding my low-ash coffin into a furnace then collect the dust to deposit or scatter somewhere.

But today we set little store by a pulse or breathing as arbiters of life.  No more listening for a heartbeat or holding a feather to the nose. Now we need to know about the state of the brain and central nervous system.  According to the BMA: '{death} is generally taken to mean the irreversible loss of capacity for consciousness combined with the irreversible loss of capacity to breathe'.  In other words, returning from death depends on the potential of our brain and central nervous system to recover from whatever trauma or disease assails us.

Read more: The Meaning of Death

Opinions and Philosophy

More Julian Assange

 

 

A friend forwarded me an article by Elizabeth Farrelly in the Sydney Morning Herald on April 12.  Read Here or click on the picture.



It appears that Assange's theories about petite and grand conspiracies are well founded; and illustrated by his own case.

Read more: More Julian Assange

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