Don’t hate, donate

Be the society Thatcher said didn’t exist…

I won’t rejoice in anyone’s death.   The best response to Thatcher is, as Alex Higgins says here, to be the society that she said didn’t exist.   Don’t hate, donate.

 

 

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The Original Modern

Reblogged from cities@manchester:

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by Brian Rosa, PhD candidate in Geography

Manchester is a city of superlatives: it was the prototypical “shock city” of the Industrial Revolution, Friedrich Engels and Karl Marx’s model for everything that was abhorrent in the industrial capitalist city, and one of the birthplaces of the labor and women’s suffrage movements.  In its heyday, Manchester was depicted in literature of Engels, Alexis de Toqueville and later the paintings of L.S.

Read more… 1,162 more words

cities@manchester on Manchester, the original shock city

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Michel Butor – interview in Telerama

Michel Butor – interview in Telerama

Butor on music, silence, and Twitter

 

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Pierre ALECHINSKY & les plans de Paris (& Cherbourg)

Reblogged from LES LIGNES DU MONDE:

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Comme je me renseigne sur Alechinsky, sa vie son œuvre, je finis par trouver des dessins sur plans - de Paris (ça me revient : "tu sais Alechinsky, il a utilisé des cartes comme support, ça devrait t'intéresser"). Je sélectionne ici les arrondissements que je connais mieux.

L'arrondissement de ma naissance.

L'arrondissement du Lycée.

L'arrondissement de l'université.

Je trouve aussi ces impressions de Cherbourg.

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Reflections on the 24 Hour Inspire

How can I capture that 24 hours of inspiration that we shared last week?  I don’t want to forget anything, or anyone, who made it what it was.  I don’t want the sense of possibilities, of beginnings, of connections to be dulled by the everyday concerns that have had to now re-enter our lives.  I don’t want the elation to ebb away, because what happened really, profoundly, matters.  It has to be the start of something, and I believe it can be.

What follows is not a coherent account of the event – I’m not sure that I could provide that – but various sources that, taken together, I believe give a sense of what it was about, in all its rich variety.   I’ve drawn this from my own opening and closing words at the event, from emails, tweets, other bloggers.  There will be lots more to come, and whilst we want to continue celebrating and enjoying the event itself, we want to start asking where we go from here.  What’s next?

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These are edited versions of my opening and closing words at the 24 Hour Inspire.

17.00 Thursday 28 February

Good evening everyone, and welcome to the 24 Hour Inspire, 24 hours of lectures presented by the charity Inspiration for Life, of which I am the Chair.    This event has been made possible by the generosity and enthusiasm of colleagues in all parts of the University, not just our speakers but also the buskers who’ll be entertaining you in the foyer, the wonderful people who’ve baked cakes for us to sell, the University services which have been made available to us without cost, and all the volunteers who will be here throughout the event to make sure it all runs smoothly.

Inspiration for Life was set up by Dr Tim Richardson, when he was diagnosed with terminal cancer last June, to promote lifelong learning and the public understanding of science, and to raise funds for cancer charities.  This is our first major event – when we started planning it we hoped that Tim would still be with us, but sadly he died on 5 February.  His family, friends and colleagues want this event to be a tribute to him, and a celebration of his life.

You may recall that back  in November 2011, Tim did 24 hours of lectures solo, to raise funds for Children in Need.  Tim’s heroic achievement is the inspiration for tonight’s event.  Tonight we have 42 speakers, from across and beyond the University presenting a wonderfully diverse range of talks, going through the night and up to 5 pm tomorrow.   We’re raising funds for two charities in particular, Weston Park Hospital Cancer Charity and Rotherham Hospice:

https://mydonate.bt.com/fundraisers/inspirationforlife

http://www.justgiving.com/forTimRichardson

17.00 Friday 1 March

It’s been an amazing 24 hours.  We’ve raised funds for our charities, and we’ll be announcing the totals early next week.   The 24HrInspire hashtag has been all over the twittersphere, and the buzz has reached far further afield than we could ever have imagined – an email from Iran reached me last night, from someone who was a PhD in Sheffield, and who read about the event on the University website.  He translated this into Persian and has been circulating and web-blogging it amongst his colleagues and friends.  I won’t read his email in full, as I don’t think I could do so without losing it [see below for the full text] – but just one short quote: ‘When I imagine that in the middle of the night people have been gathered in the Hicks Building and sharing their ideas about various subjects, I believe that Dr Richardson’s dream to inspire people has come true’.

How wonderful that someone who wasn’t even here could sum up what’s happened so perfectly.  We’ve been entertained, informed and moved, we’ve eaten a lot of cake, and we’ve seen some eminent physicists in their pyjamas.  What more could you ask?  I think I can speak for everyone and say that we’ve been inspired.

As I said at the beginning – 24 hours ago, when I was a lot more coherent than I’m able to be now, as well as more fragrant, probably – this has all been for Tim.   Inspiration for Life is his vision, and we will do everything we can  to make it a reality.  He would have loved it all – the talks and the music, and above all the sense of the University not just as an institution or an organisation, but as a community coming together to do something wonderful.  This is just the start, and we will go on to do all sorts of things in the future, and in everything we do, we’ll be raising a glass to Tim, to say thanks, to say cheers, to say hello.

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Blog by Chris Sexton, Director of Corporate Information & Computing Services, who gave the event tremendous support throughout

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Storify Twitter feed from the #24HrInspire hashtag (thanks to Chris Sexton)

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Email from Iran, 28 February 2013

Dear Catherine,

I have been PhD Student at the University of Sheffield from 2003 to 2006. I saw the news about 24 hours of nonstop lectures on the University Website, which I believe is being held right now.  I wish I was there to attend this inspiring event. However, my thought is with you all in Hicks Building, one of the first buildings that I visited at the university during my study time and I have a very clear picture of it in my mind.

Although I am not there at this moment, I have done a very small contribution to this event by translating the news of this remarkable event into Persian and sending it to a number of mailing lists in Iran and uploading it on a weblog to share this story with my colleagues and friends here.
I believe what Dr. Richardson has done is a wonderful and profoundly inspirational initiative, which I am sure will be a source of hope and courage for many people for a very long time. When I imagine that in the middle of the night people have been gathered in the Hicks Building and sharing their ideas about various subjects, I believe that Dr. Richardson’s dream to inspire people has come true.

Yazdan Mansourian, PhD, Associate Professor

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Inspiration for Life

For the last eight years, I’ve been lucky enough to know this bloke called Tim.  He was a colleague, and a friend.  Each time he passed my office he’d put his head round the door and offer some truly awful joke, or a greeting in French, Spanish or Latin (or some mix of the three).  Occasionally, just a rude noise.  He made me laugh, but he was also one of the people I knew I could turn to for support, if I needed it.  He was warm, generous, open and positive.   Tim was a physicist, an artist (his work regularly featured at the Physics & Astronomy Art Exhibition – idiosyncratic semi-abstract paintings, and an installation involving apples at various stages of decay), a poet and a writer (as will be evident when his diary is published shortly), a musician, a gardener and passionate lover of the natural world – and above all a communicator.

Tim had terminal cancer.   He was diagnosed back in June, and told that as the cancer has spread to his liver there wasn’t any chance to operate.  Chemo could give him a bit of extra time.  Tim reckoned he could beat the odds, that the time estimate the doctors gave was skewed both by the desire to not give false hope, and by the inclusion in the statistics of those whose life expectancy was already shortened by old age or other frailties.  He found, along with despair and grief, a way of living in the world more intensely:

I’m looking at everything differently with a renewed intensity and concentration, as if to draw out of every image all the information I’ve never ‘seen’ before. The deep colour of the leaves of trees, the vivid green of grass, the happy laughs of children playing, the clinking of tea cups in a café accompanying the chat and the laughter. I remember that I am still part of this world and no tumour is going to defeat me without a fight. I’m sad, yet I’m happy; I’m angry yet I’m calm and I’m scared yet I’m brave for this new challenge that lays ahead.

When we heard of Tim’s diagnosis we had to think about how to tell people.  Because it wasn’t just me whose life was enhanced by Tim being part of it, it was everyone in the department, staff and students.  And Tim was adamant that the students who were about to graduate, all of whom he’d looked after during their first year at University, mustn’t have their celebration spoiled by this news.   Some already knew he was ill, and already feared the outcome, and we had to tell them that it was pretty much as bad as it could be.   Students came back in September to find that he was no longer in the department, that he wouldn’t be returning.  That was hard, and there were tears.    As the news spread, people have wanted to do something, to show their love and gratitude.

Initially this was expressed through messages of support for Tim and his family – it wasn’t easy to see what else we could actually do.  The impetus to do something more, something different, came, of course, from Tim.  On the day he was told that the cancer was terminal, he said that he’d been keeping a diary and wanted to use it in some way to help other people.  The obvious thing was to publish it to raise funds for the specialist cancer services that he and so many other people rely on – and we will.   But Tim’s vision went far beyond that.  As first year tutor and PhD supervisor, Tim supported and inspired generations of students in Physics & Astronomy.  And he wanted that to continue – to encourage people to believe in themselves, and to carry on learning throughout their lives, to revel in the possibilities that life holds.

So we set up a charity, called Inspiration for Life.  Tim wasn’t sure about the title, didn’t think it was catchy enough.  We were sure.  The title sums up everything that we hope to do, and more than that, it sums up the impact Tim has had on so many of us.  We’re working towards our first big event, 24 hours of lectures, on a host of topics, from physicists, philosophers, zoologists, historians, psychologists, lawyers and more.   We’ve got musicians who’ll be busking around the building through the night, and people across the University baking biscuits and cakes to sell.  And the wonderful thing is that we haven’t had to beg or cajole people to do this.  The response – from speakers, and bakers, from students and staff – has been so enthusiastic, so generous, that it’s often moved me to tears.  It’s going to be amazing, I know that.

The only thing is, Tim won’t be there.  We knew he was unlikely to be well enough to attend, but we did hold on, for as long as we could, to the hope that he would be able to enjoy it vicariously, to watch the recordings afterwards and see the funds mount up for the causes we want to support.

But Tim slipped away on 5 February, after several weeks when it was clear his strength was failing.  He died at home, with his family around him, as he had wished.

He didn’t beat the odds, as he’d hoped he would.  But he’s in our hearts, in our memories.  He’s made such a difference, touched so many people’s lives, given them, yes, inspiration.  That’s been evident in the messages since he died,  so many expressions of loss and grief, but also so many heartfelt thanks, so many debts of gratitude, and so much love, for him and for his family in their heartbreak.

From all of us, who’ve been privileged to have had you as part of our lives, thank you Tim.

Atque in perpetuum frater ave atque vale.

http://www.justgiving.com/forTimRichardson

http://www.inspirationforlife.co.uk

And, brother, for all time, hail and farewell (Catullus, 61-54 BC)

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