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…
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.
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.
Death Mettle. That’s some Punderdome 3000 level shit right there! Amirite?!
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…
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…
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.
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.
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.
Every so often, something happens in the world and you can suddenly see the teenage girl inside the fortysomething professional pol.
So after a lovely family Xmas day, this 80s teen is off to bed feeling a bit sad, but listening to this masterpiece pic.twitter.com/tg2OujWLyO
— Nicola Sturgeon (@NicolaSturgeon) December 26, 2016
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.
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?
Do you know the way to blue? This guy does.
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.
Last week’s post, Monarchy had a hint of the oracle about it. I asked
Can Angela [Eagle] fit 172 Labour Party MPs in her tiny battle bus before its square wheels fall off?
And that very night, the Labour Party’s National executive committee voted to allow Jeremy Corbyn, as the incumbent leader of the party, to enter the party’s leadership election without having to collect the nominations of 50 of his MPs and MEPs.
— Ricky Brown (@ricky_ballboy) July 12, 2016
But let’s leave that aside for now – who can predict British politics at the moment?
The other question that was left hanging at the end of last week’s post was
What happened when I had a chance to visit the Scottish Parliament at Holyrood…?