SIR PATRICK STEWART (1940-2026)
Before everything else, Patrick was defined by being born and bred in Yorkshire, the proud county in the north of England which he loved to the end. You could hear it in his accented voice and in the stern honesty with which he told you what he thought and felt. Yorkshiremen have no truck with half-truths or avoidance of big issues. He wore his heart on his sleeve, which made him a man to rely on, to admire and in my case, love.
We first met as ambitious young actors with the Royal Shakespeare Company half a century ago but we weren’t in the same productions. My first strong memory was a few years later, meeting him in the street in central London when he told me about an offer to take over a leading part in 'Star Trek'. “But Patrick think of your stage career in the UK. Do you really want to risk—getting lost in Hollywood for years and years?”. Well, he took the risk and thank goodness for us all that he did for not just his devoted Trekkies but film and theatre audiences, who marvelled at his using international celebrity to star in a string of cinema successes ('X-Men' of course) and in great classical plays by Shakespeare, Ibsen, Arthur Miller, Peter Shaffer, Pinter and Beckett at Stratford-upon-Avon, in London’s West End and on Broadway.
America was his adopted home, where he met his adored Sunny who has cared for him through sickness and health, through thick and thin. But he never forsook his origins: and the proudest achievement of the most respected and beloved actor of his generation on either side of the Atlantic, was his appointment as Chancellor of Huddersfield University in Yorkshire.
His farewell performance in 'Avengers: Doomsday' is yet to be seen.
Ian McKellen 29 October 2026
Photo: University of Huddersfield
June 6, 1944. An American paratrooper jumps into Normandy in the dark and lands on the roof of a church.
By the end of the war he had been declared dead, held a funeral he didn't attend, escaped the Nazis, and fought his way toward Berlin in a Soviet tank unit.
His name was Joseph Beyrle. He's believed to be the only American soldier to serve in both the US Army and the Red Army during World War Two.
Beyrle was from Muskegon, Michigan. He joined the 101st Airborne, the Screaming Eagles. His buddies called him Jumpin' Joe.
On D-Day night his plane was hit by flak and he jumped early. He came down on a church roof, slid off, and lost his unit in the chaos. For a few days he fought on his own, blowing up a power station and cutting German communications.
Then he was captured.
Here's where it gets strange. A German soldier ended up wearing Beyrle's uniform and dog tags. That German was killed. When the body was found, the Americans identified it as Joseph Beyrle.
The army told his parents their son was dead. His hometown held a funeral mass for him. His obituary ran in the local paper.
Meanwhile, he was very much alive, being moved from one German prison camp to another.
He escaped more than once. One time he and two other prisoners jumped off a train heading east. They thought they were heading for Russia and freedom. They got lost and ended up in Berlin, where they were caught by the Gestapo, beaten, and tortured.
In January 1945, from a camp in eastern Germany, he finally made a clean escape. He went east, toward the gunfire. Toward the Soviets.
When he found a Soviet tank unit, he walked out with his hands up, holding a pack of Lucky Strike cigarettes, and shouted the only Russian he knew. American comrade.
It worked.
He asked to join them. And they said yes.
For about a month, an American paratrooper rode with Soviet tank crews as they pushed toward Germany. He used his demolition training. He fought. He was reportedly welcomed by a Soviet officer who was one of the rare women commanding a tank battalion.
Then a German dive bomber attacked. Beyrle was badly wounded.
He was evacuated to a Soviet hospital. Soviet Marshal Georgy Zhukov reportedly visited, heard his story, and gave him papers to get to the American embassy in Moscow.
When he showed up, the embassy didn't believe him. As far as the US was concerned, Joseph Beyrle was dead. They held him under guard until his fingerprints proved who he was.
He made it home to Michigan in April 1945.
In 1946 he got married. In the same church where they'd held his funeral.
Decades later, in 1994, he was honored at the White House by President Bill Clinton and Russian President Boris Yeltsin for serving both countries.
And the last twist. His son, Joseph Beyrle II, grew up to become the United States Ambassador to Russia.
A vascular surgeon reached out after hearing me talk about Hurts' situation on the podcast.
Posting his comments here for what it's worth:
“Small superficial clot, below the knee, I would let him play. Put on a stocking, stay hydrated, walk around the plane every hour. But, too many unknowns. Did this happen to him before? Did it happen to a parent, a sibling? If yes, changes things, I would be much more concerned.
I always ask myself. . . should this patient have a clot? Broken bone, in a cast. . .yes, a clot can happen. Young, healthy, active, uninjured- shouldn't have a clot.
Now he has progressed to an embolus. In my opinion, he should not have developed emboli from a cleat injury unless he has an underlying clotting disorder. These can be tricky to diagnose if there is no family or personal history. Like Chris Bosh, I'm concerned for his career.”
Me: entering Japanese cat café.
employee stops me immediately.
Employee: One rule.
Me: Okay.
Employee: Orange cat bites people from France.
Me: I’m not French.
Employee: Good.
I sit down, cats everywhere, peaceful, adorable, therapeutic.
then gigantic orange cat jumps onto table, built like retired wrestler.
Cat staring at me aggressively.
Employee watching nervously from distance.
Me: I thought he only hated French people.
Employee: He improvises.
cat slowly pushes my drink off table while maintaining eye contact.
Me: THIS IS TARGETED.
small child nearby points at cat.
Child: That one evil.
Employee: No no, He just passionate.
cat suddenly climbs onto my lap, starts purring violently.
Me: …wait he likes me?
Employee shocked.
Employee: Impossible.
another worker comes over, then another, entire staff now observing me like chosen prophet.
Manager arrives.
Manager: He has never trusted customer before.
Me: What does that mean.
Manager bows slightly.
Manager: You must take him.
Me: TAKE HIM WHERE.
orange cat already asleep on me.
Employee quietly bringing adoption papers.
Me: I CAME HERE FOR COFFEE.
A rare grove of 200 American chestnut trees, grown from survivors of the early twentieth-century fungal blight and planted in the 1970s at the former Clements State Tree Nursery in Mason County, West Virginia, is set to be relocated in 2027 for a data center, and conservationists are raising the alarm, as moving an established grove of mature American chestnut trees carries severe ecological risks, and many experts believe the operation could prove fatal for the forest.
The mature trees were propagated from rare wild survivors that withstood the blight, and the orchard now functions as a genetic library and a primary seed repository for efforts to restore the species across North America.
When trees of this size and age are uprooted, they suffer from extreme root loss because a massive portion of their critical structural and feeding root systems must be left behind in the soil. This triggers severe transplant shock, leaving the surviving organisms highly vulnerable to dehydration and nutrient starvation as they struggle to adapt to their new environment.
Furthermore, the physical stress of transport creates micro-fractures in the bark and limbs, creating open wounds that invite opportunistic pests and deadly pathogens. For a species already devastated by history, the greatest danger is that this physical trauma will critically weaken the trees' immune systems, causing them to lose their natural resistance and succumb to the very chestnut blight fungus they managed to survive for decades.
The threat comes from the multi-billion-dollar Monarch Compute Campus, a development planned for the area to house high-density data centers for artificial-intelligence processing. The facility requires thousands of acres, and the historic tree nursery sits inside the proposed construction footprint. Forestry advocates are asking the developers and state officials to adjust the building boundaries and permanently protect the grove as the conflict between the infrastructure project and the trees continues.
I don't think AI twt understands that the Pope and Catholic church higher ups aren't exactly fucking stupid?
Like these are men who've dedicated most of their lives to the study of metaphysics and philosophy, not your average evangelical idiot
Lanterns is a story about a man coming to see that fear isn't failure, and any attempt to excise it diminishes him, submits him to others' wills, and prevents him from self-actualizing. It's not a story about how a guy gets a magic ring that lets him shoot lasers at bad guys.
Accounting has accidentally made it financially impossible to replace an $89 laptop battery.
An employee’s four-year-old laptop now lasts 18 minutes unplugged.
Battery replacement: $89.
Easy.
Except Finance policy says IT cannot approve a repair costing more than 25% of the asset’s current book value.
The laptop is fully depreciated.
Current book value: $0.
25% of $0: $0.
So according to policy, an $89 battery is an unacceptable investment in a worthless asset.
I asked Procurement what I’m supposed to do.
“Replace the device.”
New laptop: $1,684.
Approved immediately.
The CFO saw the invoice and asked why we spent $1,684 instead of replacing an $89 battery.
I sent him the policy.
He replied:
“That’s not what the policy means.”
I asked what number I should use instead of the book value listed by Finance.
No response.
The new laptop arrives Thursday.
The old laptop works perfectly except for the battery.
We’ll send it to e-waste.
Accounting has successfully protected us from wasting $89.