The Postmaster GeneralI find myself thinking about the Postmaster General. When I was a kid, a young teenager, one of my many summer jobs was being a postman. I was part of the small army of teenage recruits that helped the post office to cope with the inflated workload of Christmas mail. Where I worked was just one of the small suburban post offices that used to dot the town. I think it later became a suburban branch of a bank, if I remember correctly, which in turn became a shop of some sort, as services retreated from suburbia and became consolidated in larger centres.We teenage postmen needed only one qualification for the job; we needed to own a bicycle. We would arrive at the post office in the morning, to be handed leather satchels of letters that had been sorted by the Real Postmen at the crack of dawn. The satchels would be strapped to the handlebars of your bike. The Real Postmen were Men, in my teenage boy's eyes.
The story of my lifeLet me introduce my oldest ancestors, at the root of my family tree. They were a pair of hydrogen atoms. I can't remember their names, to my eternal shame. They lived in the core of a star which some say was over a billion years old. Theirs was a typical romance they met, they reacted, they fused and produced offspring. Their children included a deuterium and a helium atom, but of more import to my destiny was the little gamma ray they sired.This little gamma ray, my father, had a short life, unfortunately. He was absorbed almost straight away in that ancient star's core, and gave birth to a son. Me. He named me Photon, after the Greek word for light, an act which always puzzled me, as this all happened a long time before there were any Greeks anywhere.I packed my bags and bade my farewells, keen to embark on my life. I began the journey to the surface of the star. Thi
Entrance ExamGod's sternest test for entry into His Kingdom of Heaven at the Pearly Gates (and surely also the finest of His many practical jokes) is to ask the newly arrived if they had squandered their God given ability for analytical thought while they were alive. It is with a mischievous glint in His eye that he casts His believers down into the Infernos of Hell.