Category Archives: Death

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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Relax

Over the last two weeks, Stroke Bloke has reported from Berlin and London on modern iterations of democracy. Today, a report from closer to home…

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.

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…?

Need more whimsy and obscure ’90s indie references to getting through the working week? Check out the Apoplexy Tiny Letter. Continue reading Relax

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This Is My Truth, Tell Me Yours

Urgh. What a horrible week or so it’s been. I survived a massive haemorrhagic stroke for this?!

At around 2am on the morning of Sunday 12 June, a man walked into the Pulse nightclub in Orlando. By the time two hours had passed, 49 people who had been in the club had been killed, and 43 injured. To highlight the disproportionate risk of violence people in the LGBT community face, it’s worth mentioning that Pulse is one of Orlando’s most popular gay clubs.

When even a Mail on Sunday commentator is saying this, it’s hard to imagine that America’s incredible rates of gun violence will ease any time soon:

1,600 kids aged 0-17 killed in gun violence so far this year

Continue reading This Is My Truth, Tell Me Yours

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Something Changed

Hi.

If you’ve been here before, you may have noticed that Mrs Stroke Bloke recently made me Mr Mrs Stroke Bloke. (You’ve made that “gag” before – Ed.)

Is that much testosterone in a marriage healthy? Yes, apparently. (Photo credit: @chrisdonia)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Now we’ve been married for as long as the three-and-a-half weeks I was in Brooklyn’s Methodist Hospital before my transfer to the Rusk Institute, I thought it might be time to scribble down some thoughts about what just happened – figure out what it was all about….

[Interact some more with Mr Mrs Stroke Bloke and read the Apoplexy Tiny Letter here.] Continue reading Something Changed

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