Category Archives: Edinburgh

Embra Calling

Or maybe it was Michael Howard? "Peepil, peepil who need peepil"
I’m pretty sure that was Barbra Streisand, wasn’t it?

The conversation got to the author remarking that he hadn’t listened to much more-or-less-political music with the impact of Strummer’s work (with and without The Clash) since the late punk’s death.

Conversely, I don’t seem to be able to listen to anything that isn’t angry about something right now. Not least since, now he’s five, the Wee Man is all

Public Enemy, the Bee Gees or die, Sucker!

My son, every day (not really (but yeah, kinda))

Maybe by the end of the month, I can expand his palette to include Run The Jewels, Sleaford Mods and the great new(ish) Leith/Peebles band I checked out at the Banshee Labyrinth last month, Gutterblood.

Poor wee sod.

Oh yeah, and Mrs Stroke Bloke stumbled across an article about Killer Mike from Run The Jewels in the paper today.

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Where Are We NOW?

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.

The Devil Offers Zero-Hour Contracts
‘What? No, that was just me running my venue.’

[Check out the Apoplexy Tiny Letter, where the devil always has the best tunes.] Continue reading Where Are We NOW?

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Land Seer

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.

Yep, I would wear basically that to work at least once a week in Manhattan.
Where presumably everyone looks like this

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

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Irregular Programming

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

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Apoplectic Me

Here is the news…

Knock-knock. Who's there? Ivor Liddle
“Everything is fine. Return to your homes.”

[Is this more FAKE NEWS?!?! Read on to find out where Stroke Bloke’s going with this…] Continue reading Apoplectic Me

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Now We Are Five

This past weekend, I celebrated my Fifth Strokiversary (1, 2, 3, 4). Which I guess means Stroke Bloke is five.

He's aff his heid on honey again
*FIVE*, you dozy ursine prat!

A fair amount of water has passed under the bridge in five years. Let’s reflect, shall we?

[For more personal reflections, join me at the Apoplexy Tiny Letter.] Continue reading Now We Are Five

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King Ubu

I haven’t been able to get to much on the Edinburgh International Book Festival this year, for reasons. After seeing Tariq Ali discuss Lenin, I managed to miss Stuart Cosgrove returning to the subject of Detroit ’67, and 404 Ink marking their epochal Nasty Women with Nadine Aisha Jassat, Joelle Owusu & Laura Waddell.

And I missed Limmy, too. 😭

[For more ands and buts, and more deep cuts, check out the Apoplexy Tiny Letter.] Continue reading King Ubu

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The Sound of [Young] Scotland

Mrs Stroke Bloke and I celebrated our first wedding anniversary this past weekend.

The Third Firth of Forth Bridge
Where it all went down – over by the Irn Bru coloured one

And what a pleasant day our anniversary was. We started off at the Scottish Gallery of Modern Art, which was featuring a Bridget Riley exhibition. I found that some of the impact  of seeing her work for the first time in New York many years ago had faded. YMMV, obvs.

For more uninformed opinion, check out the Apoplexy Tiny Letter. Or BBC politics correspondent Norman Smith trying to talk about Scottish politics on the PM show.

Continue reading The Sound of [Young] Scotland

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Thanksgiving

On Tuesday, I was invited to an event run by The Open University’s Reading Communities team in association with The Scottish Book Trust’s Book Week Scotland and the Being Human festival of the Humanities. It was called Edinburgh: A City of Readers. As well as my story Valhalla, I was asked to read an extract from an 1830 letter written by the actress, writer, and abolitionist campaigner Fanny Kemble in which she talks of breakfasting with Walter Scott and a small party of other Scottish luminaries of the time.

Apparently, she found it

strange that so varied and noble an intellect should be expressed in the features of a shrewd, kindly, but not otherwise striking countenance.

Walt gets all Teenage Fanclub
Ain’t that enough?!

[For more Walter Scott/Teenage Fanclub mash-ups, head over to the Apoplexy newsletter] Continue reading Thanksgiving

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Thought For The Day

My love for BBC Radio 4’s PM programme, as hosted by Eddie Mair, is well-documented on this website (1, 2). During #indyref the first, I remember him conducting one of the better interviews I heard with Scotland’s First Minister.

You should see Blankety-Blank with Lilly Savage!
Eddie & Pals: Call My Bluff’s changed!

However, it’s becoming increasingly apparent – from, for example, the Today programme’s coverage of yesterday’s news that the Westminster government is mulling making substantial payments to the EU to retain financial services passporting rights for the City of London– that The Herald‘s chief reporter has captured a larger truth about the BBC’s output.

[Yes, somehow I’ll pivot this into strokes and art. Read on to find out how.] Continue reading Thought For The Day

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