Desperately Using the Window

New Departure

I am still writing frantically, taking advantage of this window in my cancer treatment before I get too tired to write.

This is my first book of 2018, called Extreme Thinking. It is my first foray into humour, so I am nervous that my sense of humour might be too obscure. I hope not!

The publisher’s blurb says:

 

Extreme Thinking is a part of the English tradition of light-hearted parodies that includes Three Men in a Boat by Jerome K Jerome, The Ascent of Rum Doodle by W E Bowman, and I An Actor by Nicholas Craig.

Welcome aboard for this light-hearted trip around the relatively unknown activity of extreme thinking. Thinking as a sport has been known variously as meditation, mindfulness or Philosophy. Extreme Thinking, however, involves thinking where no thoughts have been before. It is high altitude thought, and not for the faint-hearted. Steve compares it to Himalayan climbing.

He describes the various elements of the sport. Here you will find the madness and wisdom of millennia, and scattered warm-up exercises from Japanese haiku, Zen koan, the Bible, riddles and jokes and television football commentary. If you make it alive to the end, you will have some glimmering of understanding of the words of the extreme thinker, Robert Descartes, who quipped, “I think, therefore everything is”.

 

As usual, it is available from Amazon, price £4.50, 104.

 

 

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Photo Needed

I’m in the middle of writing a humorous book comparing thinking to mountain climbing. The title will be “Extreme Thinking”. Connections will be made between rock climbing, mountaineering, trekking, meditation and philosophy. It is good-natured and tongue-in-cheek, in the genre of “The Ascent of Rum Doodle”.

I’m looking for a photo of the high Himalayas for the cover, and would be really grateful if you could let me use one of yours, if you have one. You will receive full credit in the book.

I know some of my readers are walkers and climbers, so I just thought I’d give it a try. Please forgive the cheek.

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Xmas Gifts

Double Christmas

 

Christmas has come at last, with two fantastic presents.

The first wonderful gift was the return of Ruby from hospital. She is not completely herself yet but getting better all the time.

The second gift is the final publication of The Curious Comedy, my autobiography. This masterpiece is now available on Amazon, price £9.00 or equivalent, ISBN-10: 1543218954, ISBN-13: 978-1543218954

Publisher’s blurb:

: All of us are mediocre men and women, yet, at the same time, we are little wonders of creation, made from the dust of stars and galaxies. Steve Hobson examines his life from the point of view of this paradox, looking at how we construct ourselves from vague and unreliable memories, and how we fight to keep our individual bits of stardust together. The account is by turns both funny and political polemic, with half-digested bits of science, philosophy and history mixed in. All of it is viewed through what are often constructed memories and so-called alternative facts, but the end result is insightful and painfully honest.

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A Disinclination to Run Marathons

I’m aware that I’ve not updated the virtual world about the state of my health for some time. This is something that must be rectified today, now the guilty realisation has crept up on me. After all, if I don’t keep bombarding you with these messages you will lose interest. You might even assume I’m dead.

I’m well into my hormone treatment now, which is designed to shrink the tumour. I am assuming that it’s working. The drug is injected under the skin of my abdomen, and each injection last three months, and I’ll need two of them in total. At the end of six months, which will include one month of daily radiotherapy, I will either be cured or will have been given my one-way ticket to the asphodel meadows.

The side effects are an overwhelming tiredness and a general low mood, with occasional bouts of depression. I still seem to be resolutely male and still have no interest in Dulux colour charts or slogging round Ikea.

I shall try to get excited by the thought of Christmas, but I’m just not a Christmassy type of person and it’s the spring I’m really looking forward to – a spring with no cancer.

Our dog Ruby’s been having pain in her back and back legs, and can only go on short walks, which suits me perfectly at the moment. We are all of us getting older by the day. Don’t ignore it, whatever ‘it’ is for you.

 

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How Wide the Moorland Sky

How Wide the Moorland Sky

 

Just in time to solve all your Christmas present problems, my new book of poetry comes out today, and is available from Amazon.

Title: How Wide the Moorland Sky

ISBN-13: 978-1978235700

Price £5.00, or equivalent $ or Euros from Amazon

Publisher’s Blurb:

This new collection of poems by the Yorkshire poet, Steve Hobson, includes pieces that go back over forty years, from his time as a member of the Huddersfield group of writers that included Simon Armitage, Peter Sansom, Clare Chapman and Duncan Curry, through his time working as a classical librettist, to his recent poems that deal with getting older with disability and blindness.

 

Don’t miss this opportunity to sort out all your Christmas presents nice and early!

 

 

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Eating Babies

Treatment starts

 

I start taking my drugs for the cancer on Thursday of this week. I have to take one tablet a day of Bicalutamide for two weeks before my first injection. The purpose of these two treatments is to shrink the tumour, so my fingers are crossed. I can’t stay on the drugs for longer than three months because my body will learn that it is being chemically tricked and stop playing the game, so that’s when the actual radiotherapy starts, with the intention of killing all the cancer cells.

It’s strange to know you have cells in your body that are designed to kill you. This is planned obsolescence taken to extremes. Just as the inevitable breakdown of our washing machines keeps the washing machine factories working, so our inevitable deaths keep the baby factories working.

It begs the question of what happens to new babies when humans achieve immortality. Will people have to do what Swift ironically suggested in A Modest Proposal, which is to grow them for food? Or will sex become illegal?

Everyone keep smiling.

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Guest Posts

Just to announce that two guest posts by George Monbiot have been added to the Guest Features page. Both of them are worth thinking and talking about.

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