In Scrobs's more irrational - even sombre and thoughtful moods, there occasionally pervades a feeling that when he tips over the edge into infinity, all the electrical impulses that kept him alive, might join up somewhere else, and create some sort of energetic momentum for others to use in their daily toil.
I'm not really sure of my grounds on this, (I'm only a humble builder), but it's a consideration worth keeping alight, as everything needs to be positive these days, even if the runes coming from the politicians, the banks, the insurance companies - in fact every business where they have to exist in enormous buildings in capital cities - are stacked against a peaceful time for all normal ordinary citizens!
So imagine this...
Scrobs has left the planet, and his living forces are being used by someone else. These manifest themselves in some order, clearly to be utilised in some way by the grandchildren first, and even the daughts to a certain extent, although they've done so well for themselves, I'm learning from them even more now!
So these rays are also bouncing around the stratosphere, along with all the others from other citizens, and a good time is being had by all, unless you live in Syria, or Wolverhampton. The sparks are forming and new ideas are being filed for future reference. And it's these files which I want to look at more closely!
I use a computer quite a lot, for all my spreadsheets, the book I still haven't published, blogs like this etc, much the same as most people do these days. A lot of the information is kept in a 'cloud', presumably somewhere like Arizona, and the various gigabytes of information are stored safely - one hopes - for use again whenever they're needed.
Now, if Scrobs is no more, what happens to all the files in Tucson, or Phoenix? Will facilities have to be extended more and more, as the banks of storage chips fill up with photos, spreadsheets, emails etc? Will there be a back-up if the whole lot gets bashed by the Russians? Will they invent even smaller chips? (SIL once gave me a tiny chip which holds four Gb of info, and it's no bigger than JRT's dew claw. That's the equivalent of 2,857 floppy discs)!
Perhaps one day, all Scrobs's information in the cloud will somehow join with his own passed-on electrical persona, and create another cloud, maybe to be inspected by others, and laughed at - especially the pictures, and probably the bank statement, maybe the book...
(Why Number 9 you may ask? Well, The Beatles did a song called 'Revolution 9', during which some bloke came on and kept repeating 'Number 9'. So it became 'Cloud 9' for the purposes of this post, which has been created with the help of a large mug of Tesco's Finest Assam, and not a tincture in sight)!