Hi there!
I’m aware that the posting schedule here at apoplectic.me has been a bit erratic recently. Sorry about that.
If you’re of a mind to follow me on the tweetie box or like and follow my writer’s page on Facebook or sign up for the Apoplexy Tiny Letter, the excuse for this will be revealed early on Thursday afternoon, Edinburgh time.
In the meantime, let’s stick to the stroke news, shall we? Continue reading Making Everything Better
So, the last post here on apoplectic.me cast a pretty sneering eye over Public Health England’s Heart Age Calculator. And if you think that an eye can’t sneer, welcome to the stroke blog.
That’s pretty much the modus operandi around here – bitter cynicism leavened with fun. Skip down to the bottom of this post if you just want to hear some of the best Scottish pop ever.
But it turns out that this time, I wasn’t alone in my cynicism.
[Maybe there’s actual upbeat stuff in the Apoplexy Tiny Letter – check it out] Continue reading Modus Operandi
Mrs Stroke Bloke and I have been catching up with the BBC Scotland documentary series Rip It Up: The History Of Scottish Pop.
In a sufficiently leisurely fashion that we haven’t reached this yet:
A deathless classic, I’m sure you’ll agree.
[For the most leisurely stroll through Scottish pop possible, check the Apoplexy Tiny Letter.] Continue reading Young At Heart
We’re at the fag-end of August, almost six years after the moment that set off the series of events that would change Mrs Stroke Bloke’s and my life forever. But no doubt we’ll get to that in due course.
For now, the Edinburgh Festival has just finished and the smell of sulphur from the massive closing fireworks display that rattled our windows last night is fading.
[Check out the Apoplexy Tiny Letter, where the devil always has the best tunes.] Continue reading Where Are We NOW?
Clearly, I was spoiled for news stories to cover last week. Even this week, and more specifically today, a lot of things I’m interested in have been cropping up.
Trump‘s been in the news a bunch, but I’m not going to spend any time on the details of that. I mean, who’s got the bandwidth to constantly maintain the rage?
No, the most interesting thing I learned about Trump this week keyed into my interest in the amount of time we spent at work.
[Waste your time at work with the Apoplexy Tiny Letter.] Continue reading Judge Dread
Get out the bunting, Maude – a mere six months after the last one, it’s time for a new Stroke News Digest!
[Check out the Apoplexy Tiny Letter for your soundtrack before settling in.] Continue reading Digesta Plaga #12
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?
[Kick back with more whimsy and a blog soundtrack at the Apoplexy Tiny Letter.] Continue reading Bad Behaviour
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.
Don’t worry – I’m going somewhere with this.
Check out the Apoplexy Tiny Letter for a soundtrack while I wend my way. Continue reading Land Seer
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
[Sleep patterns messed up? The Apoplexy Tiny Letter can help with that.] Continue reading Irregular Programming
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.
[For more unbearably exciting stroke-related whimsy and suchlike – the Apoplexy Tiny Letter] Continue reading Nightshift