Recently I've been trying to re-read books I remember reading in my formative years, despite not remembering exactly what the books were like. Latest to be crossed off my list was Defoe's Robinson Crusoe.

It was faintly amusing reading about Crusoe establishing himself on the island and how effortlessly he seemed to do it - given another couple of years left to his own devices and the eponymous hero would have invented the electric lightbulb and combine harvester. Towards the end of the book, though, he became more and more meglomaniacal. He finishes up holding the power of life and death over natives, Spaniards and an entire crew of English seamen, all the while allowing them to refer to him as the Governor of the island or, if he's on more intimate terms with them, master.

Not exactly Lost, unless Jack starts skinning goats and shooting anyone who comes within 50 yards of his raisin stash...

You've got to admire Stephen Hawking's honesty - he posed the question "...How can mankind sustain another 100 years?" and, after 25,000 replies, addressed his own question by saying "I don't know the answer. That is why I asked the question."

I'm kind of surprised the tabloids didn't write a headline along the lines of "Illegal immigrants bad for the environment" when they saw this story.

p.s. Happy birthday, Stacey.

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