
Ozzy Osbourne Birmingham funeral procession map and how to watch online
Ozzy Osbourne will be laid to rest in a private funeral in Birmingham tomorrow. The Black Sabbath star died last week after paramedics spent two hours trying to revive the rocker.
He had a number of health complications before his death and just weeks before, he had performed at his final ever concert at Villa Park. Ozzy had always wanted to come back to the UK to spend time with his family before his death.
A procession will move down Broad Street in central Birmingham tomorrow, starting at around 1pm. The cortege will be followed by his family and they will make their way to Black Sabbath bridge and bench.
Broad Street will be closed from 7am to allow for the procession to take place and will reopen soon after. Fans are expected to arrive in their thousands to pay tribute to the Black Sabbath star.
The Lord Mayor of Birmingham, Councillor Zafar Iqbal MBE, JP, said: "Ozzy was more than a music legend - he was a son of Birmingham. Having recently been awarded the Freedom of the City and following his celebrated appearance at the Back to the Beginning concert at Villa Park earlier this month, it was important to the city that we support a fitting, dignified tribute ahead of a private family funeral. We know how much this moment will mean to his fans.
"We're proud to host it here with his loving family in the place where it all began, and we are grateful that they have generously offered to pay to enable this to happen and support the city is giving him the farewell he deserves."
For those unable to attend in person, they will be able to watch the live feed of the Black Sabbath bridge, where floral tributes have been left for the rocker. The cortege will also be brought here for one final look at the tributes left by fans.
Elsewhere, those wishing to pay tribute to Ozzy, can head to the Birmingham Museum and Art Gallery to sign a book of condolence. It sits alongside the Ozzy Osbourne Working Class Hero exhibition, which Sharon Osbourne opened last month.
There is also a Black Sabbath Mural on Navigation Street, Ozzy the Bull at New Street Station and The Station pub, which is where Black Sabbath first played all the way back in 1968.
Ozzy said he was "desperate to come home" to the UK and his native Birmingham but the move had been delayed by his battle with Parkinson's and the various surgeries for a spinal injury that he had to undergo.
Back in May, he heartbreakingly said: "It's time for me to spend some time with my grandkids. I don't want to die in a hotel room somewhere. I want to spend the rest of my life with my family."
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'They can get in the way of recognising and accommodating what has been lost, because you can interact with a deathbot in an ongoing way.' For example, people often wonder what a dead loved one might have done or said in a specific situation. 'Now it feels like you are able to ask them.' But deathbots may also provide 'sanitised, rosy' representations of a person, said Cholbi. For example, someone creating a deathbot of their late granny may choose not to include her casual racism or other unappealing aspects of her personality in material fed into an AI generator. There is also a risk of creating a dependency in the living person, said Nathan Mladin, the author of AI and the Afterlife, a Theos report published last year. 'Digital necromancy is a deceptive experience. You think you're talking to a person when you're actually talking to a machine. Bereaved people can become dependent on a bot, rather than accepting and healing.' The boom in digital clones of the dead began in the far east. In China, it can cost as little as 20 yuan (£2.20) to create a digital avatar of a loved one, but according to one estimate the market was worth 12bn yuan (£1.2bn) in 2022 and was expected to quadruple by 2025. More advanced, interactive avatars that move and converse with a client can cost thousands of pounds. Fu Shou Yuan International Group, a major funeral operator, has said it is 'possible for the dead to 'come back to life' in the virtual world'. According to the China Funeral Association, the cost is about 50,000 yuan per deceased person. The exploitation of grief for private profit is a risk, according to Cholbi, although he pointed to a long history of mis-selling and upselling in the funeral business. Kasket said another pitfall was privacy and rights to digital remains. 'A person who's dead has no opportunity to consent, no right of reply and no control.' The fraudulent use of digital material to create convincing avatars for financial gain was another concern, she added. Some people have already begun stipulating in their wills that they do not want their digital material to be used after their death. Interactive avatars are not just for the dead. Abba Voyage, a show that features digital versions of the four members of the Swedish pop group performing in their heyday, has been a runaway success, making about £1.6m each week. Audiences thrill – and sing along – to the exhilarating experience while the band's members, now aged between 75 and 80, put their feet up at home. More soberly, the UK's National Holocaust Centre and Museum launched a project in 2016 to capture the voices and images of Holocaust survivors to create interactive avatars capable of answering questions about their experiences in the Nazi death camps long into the future. According to Cholbi, there is an element of 'AI hype' around deathbots. 'I don't doubt that some people are interested in this, and I think it could have some interesting therapeutic applications. It could be something that people haul out periodically – I can imagine they bring out the posthumous avatar of a deceased relative at Christmas dinner or on their birthday. 'But I doubt that people will try to sustain their relationships with the dead through this technology for very long. At some point, I think most of us reconcile ourselves with the fact of death, the fact that the person is dead. 'This isn't to say that some people might really dive into this, but it does seem to be a case where maybe the prospects are not as promising as some of the commercial investors might hope.' For Mladin, the deathbot industry raises profound questions for ethicists and theologians. The interest in digital resurrection may be a consequence of 'traditional religious belief fading, but those deeper longings for transcendence, for life after death, for the permanence of love are redirected towards technological solutions,' he said. 'This is an expression of peak modernity, a belief that technology will conquer death and will give us life everlasting. It's symptomatic of the kind of culture we inhabit now.' Kasket said: 'There's no question in my mind that some people create these kinds of phenomena and utilise them in ways that they find helpful. But what I'm concerned about is the way various services selling these kinds of things are pathologising grief. 'If we lose the ability to cope with grief, or convince ourselves that we're unable to deal with it, we are rendered truly psychologically brittle. It is not a pathology or a disease or a problem for technology to solve. Grief and loss are part of normal human experience.'