No slacking there - you have to play that harp!
Faith and proof are mutually incompatible - evidently....... ;-)
The lack of evidence is the evidence or...?
As far as I am concerned, it is an opportunity to catch up on lost sleep - for the rest of time.
Houdini was well qualified to spot tricksters and never found a genuine "medium." He also promised his friends that he would communicate with them, if it was possible, at a seance on the anniversary of his death. Still waiting........
Have to say, I am with Harry Houdini on that.
No! No! Doreen. We value your contributions. SFN would be the poorer without you.
Why should we have to link any kind of 'afterlife' with God (any God) ?
It is possible to not be a believer in God but believe in 'the other side'
Faith implies believing that which cannot be proved, so cannot be a subject for logical argument.
But the absolute clincher for me came from an Auschwitz survivor -
"When you have been in a place like that, you can no longer believe in the existence of God - or if He does exist, who needs Him?"
Doreen, behave !
It's sunday and head is rather 'delicate'...
Sorry Mike, I wasn't being flippant, just an observation. My experience has shown that proof and new evidence have changed my beliefs, or at least given me food for thought.
My experience is that no argument will ever change belief. The subject should be left alone, but I always seem to rise to the bait. Apologies! ;-)
Well spotted, Peter.
Of course I should have said "On the lack of evidence."
what 'evidence' ?
On all the evidence - nothing. But if I am proved to be wrong, I shall have to apologize!
I wonder ...surely I am not the only one who has the very deep
question....deep, only because it is implanted within us all the question
about what is the next stage?
Mortlake a very pale grey sad place I will always remember the goodbyes
when my dearest friend died long ago. Music which I chose was jose Faliciano
`In my life`.
Yes I know Barnes and was in Kew a couple of weeks ago. Had a splendid day there
with some really good friends.
I will probably spend my last days here .....but wonder, often what happens on the other side?
Terry, somewhere in my files I still have an old Menu from 'La Chien qui Fume 'I will dig it out and scan it. Also round the back of St Eustache there used to be a row of incredible Fin de Siecle bars, I can't remember how many drinks and cheap meals I had there.
My wife and I (Parisienne) bought our first home together - a flat in Pantin, and I loved it as I thought it was the 'real' Paris. Quite big for usual standards at 60m2! I was always reminded of this place when I lived in Budapest, and you may recall that the stairways in these blocks were always concrete and walls peeling paint, but once inside the flats always incredibly well-kept - although invariably crowded. Budapest was just the same, including the mainly fin de siecle fittings and guard rails.
Pantin was noted for the restaurants by the abbatoirs and a bit sick I suppose one always used to have a live sheep at the door. Now this is the Parc Technology.
Connection now lost there as the twin sister sold up after a lifetime there and has bought a house near us. She has no regrets as although the area has been tarted up very well, the racial tensions are far greater now. Even the long-term black residents feel it with the incoming 'Arabs' (their term not mine).
Times change, and I think after a life time in cities I am happy to just visit once in a while and now live in peace in the countryside and wait for the end, whenever and however it comes.
That last bit was to bring the thread back on track :-)
I wasn't around to see the old Les Halles, just when there was the big hole where they were, but the surrounding "infrastructure" was still there, and caught the last of the "soupe à l'oignon" cafés... I was working in the Pub St Michel at the time, and always used to walk home via les Halles to my place in the 18th arrondissement (Clichy!) to catch a soupe à l'oignon. I met a bloke who'd been in the French Waffen SS in one of those cafés, he was fairly gone, his woman was a retired "putain", I spent quite a long time talking with him, I suppose some people would shout at that, I found it rivetting to be faced with "history"...
I remember it well. I know the area from when we used to stay at what was Barbara Bray's flat (below Beckett's place, where mistresses are usually found ;-) ) in the Rue de Venise opposite Centre Pompidou. Well, at least you had the Louvre round the corner with all those pictures of dead people. Hey, that theme came up again!