For a couple of weeks now, after considering why people are working longer and later hours notwithstanding the deleterious effect on their health, I’ve been wanting to consider the wider question of Why do companies do bad things?
On the bus into Edinburgh’s New Town yesterday, I was reflecting on a short story I’ve been working on, a historical fiction about the Ross-shire Sheep Riots (also known as the – ten-day long – Year Of The Sheep). As the name suggests, it’s set in Scotland. My work tends to be set most often there, or in NYC, or in some imagined hybrid of the two.
After chatting about shiftwork last week, I planned to spend this week talking about why we’re working longer and later hours. But then some stuff cropped up, and there’s going to have to be a change to our scheduled programming.
First, here’s LongSufferingReaderOfTheBlogPaul’s favourite track of 2018 [sic], regardless.
Rule of thumb: That guy
would never swimmie-swim knows what he’s talking about
Last week, I was chatting with someone who asked me to tell them about my stroke experience. It was an interesting conversation, for me at least.
I love that I can’t tell whether that’s Curb Your Enthusiasm or an actual sportscast.
Week Three of the World Cup has come to an end. And what a [🚨 CLICHÉ KLAXON!!! 🚨] Feast Of Football it’s been. Notwithstanding that Brazil continue to elicit roughly the same amount of sympathy as their 1994 World Cup-winning edition of vicious bores, rather than 1982’s beautiful losers.
This week, Mrs Stroke Bloke and I are in Rhode Island, the home of legendary Scottish band Talking Heads.
It’s day six of
So if you’re worried that you might be exhibiting symptoms of World Cup Fever, it might be a good time to ask a friend to check you out.
Are you worried about WCF? Read on for a guide to identifying the symptoms.
But first, get today’s soundtrack from the Apoplexy newsletter. Continue reading World Cup Fever
Hiya! Sorry to miss you last week – it’s been a pretty hectic few weeks. Here in Edinburgh, we’ve been marking Good Life, Good Death, Good Grief‘s Death Awareness Week, and the Hidden Door Festival has been taking place down the road in Leith.
I finished that bit on Le Corbusier, the godfather of Modernist architecture. When I said the bit would be more serious and more absurd than last week’s post, I was half-right.
Sure, some nuggets of truth are hidden among the 6m 40s of A Story Is A Machine For Living In, but there are plenty of nuggets of sweet absurdity to keep folks engaged.
This got me to thinking about how, sometimes, the medium is the message.
We’re thinking of going to pick up a new desk tomorrow. One of those ones that incorporates the wall into its structure, and folds flat into the wall when it’s not in use.
Sorry, Michael. I’m going somewhere with this.