Category Archives: Death

Resolve

Phew! Between a dose of the Dreaded Lurgy, travel, and the end-of-year festivities, things got away from me a bit for a couple of weeks there.

Could say the same thing about the Twelfth Doctor, really
“Started well, that year.”

So it’s thank goodness for the New Year.

Or, is it? Alongside the usual end-of-year reviews and goals for 2018 that I’ve been seeing on my soshul meeds, there’s also been a bit of sniffiness about New Year and New Year’s resolutions. But perhaps nothing quite as scornful as this 1916 column from Marxist theorist Antonio Gramsci:

[Be sure to catch more lighthearted japes in the Apoplexy Tiny Letter!
Oh, and there’s some actual stroke stuff if you read on!]

Continue reading Resolve

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Digesta Plaga #10

Isn’t it always the way? You wait over a year for a Stroke Digest post, then two come along at once.  Last week’s Apoplexy Tiny Letter – accompanying the post Muppets – featured Loretta Lynn performing her 1971 #1 Country hit One’s on the Way with the Henson crew. And that’s how we find ourselves at Digesta Plaga #10

Continue reading Digesta Plaga #10

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Outward Bound

Phew! That was quite a weekend! On Friday evening, I had the great pleasure of co-hosting the launch of the chapbook In Failure & In Ruins by my friend, former Into the Void Poetry Competition winner Mark Bolsover.

BOO! Go back to the shaved head, Stroke Bloke!
“Pure sex for a particular niche market”

The next day, Mrs Stroke Bloke and I headed through to Glasgow to see the latest production from Kneehigh Theatre, whose Mayday Mayday had such an effect on us in the months after my stroke.

[For more whimsy and reflections, check out the Apoplexy Tiny Letter.] Continue reading Outward Bound

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Death Mettle

Death Mettle. That’s some Punderdome 3000 level shit right there! Amirite?!

Carcass are not amused
“Stop it. You’re killing us.” – Carcass

What I’m saying is, gird your loins, y’all.

Y’see, in the aftermath of last week’s laughfest about the movie Ghost and the experience of death, Paul pointed out that there’s a deep vein of pop culture death to be mined when it comes to the subject of death…

[This week’s Tiny Letter tuneage isn’t death metal, I promise. Probably.] Continue reading Death Mettle

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Ghosts

I heard a story on the radio last week about a man who had suffered 27 heart attacks in a day. These sort of things are always of interest, partly because of the prevalence of heart disease in Scotland and also because of the similarity between strokes and heart attacks. Particularly haemorrhagic strokes like mine that are caused by high blood pressure.

Basically how it went down

Anyway, Ray Woodhall’s story is pretty amazing…

[Need another does of stroke-related whimsy to get through the week?]

Continue reading Ghosts

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I feel you

Well, I did promise that I’d chat about strokes this week. This is nominally a stroke blog, after all.

Not a heart attack blog, Dave.

David Gahan of Depeche Mode knows what it’s like to die, more or less. And to some degree, so does former teacher Eric Sinclair.

[Sign up for the Apoplexy Newsletter – it’s like experiencing death!] Continue reading I feel you

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A Cunning Plan

I did have a plan for today’s blog. Honest. It was super-clever. So clever, I’m going to retain it for next week’s post.

A cunning plan, you say?
Mmmf mmmf mmf mmf-mmf mmmf!

But in the meantime, I’ve been asked to do a review of David Bowie’s posthumous download-only No Plan EP that dropped yesterday. So I’ve been working on that today.

[Feeling short-changed by today’s post? There’s more at the Apoplexy Tiny Letter.] Continue reading A Cunning Plan

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Last Christmas

Every so often, something happens in the world and you can suddenly see the teenage girl inside the fortysomething professional pol.

Or for that matter, the snarky fortysomething stroke bloke.

Last week’s post on chairs was meant to segue seamlessly into a post this week about a musician who – like chairs – features surprisingly little on the blog yet has a chameleon-like ability to adapt to the times. Then George Michael died.

[Check out the Apoplexy Tiny Letter for more Scottish humour formulated along classic lines.] Continue reading Last Christmas

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The Partisan

Let’s just ignore the elephant in the room for a moment, shall we? Yes, for someone who has the ability to speak out against racism and misogyny and homophobia (dons Stroke Bloke hat – or ablism)  to choose to stay silent on these matters is the same as condoning them. So let’s be clear – I’m against these things here, in my life, and in my art.

Does that make me a phobophobe?

Help Ricky figure his shit out in the Apoplexy Tiny Letter. Continue reading The Partisan

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Way Too Blue

Do you know the way to blue? This guy does.

What? The Canadian rapper guy?
Not that one. The other one.

Like Nick Drake, I’ve got to assume that most people who’ve suffered the effects of a stroke – and their loved ones – are familiar with the blues. And some of them may even look out the Blues as a form of therapy. I can’t locate the exact quote, but someone once said

It’s a sad music that makes you feel happy.

So it was that Mrs Stroke Bloke and I went along with a couple of friends to a show put on by the Edinburgh Blues Club on Friday.

[Extra time to waste on Labor Day (US)? Get more apoplexy here.]

Continue reading Way Too Blue

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