As readers of last week’s blog post will know, I like to listen to BBC Radio Scotland’s Good Morning Scotland when I’m making breakfast in the morning.
Mrs Stroke Bloke worries about my blood pressure, I’m sure, as a disconcerting mixture of laughter and swearie words escapes the kitchen. But it keeps me somewhat connected to the larger world, and sometimes, there’s a wee gem of an item to consider. Say, on the subject of #strokes. Continue reading The Standard Version
The Brexit referendum could have been an invigorating exercise in participatory democracy, addressing important issues about subsidiarity, regulation, and the like. Instead, it was presented as a discussion of a post-Brexit wishlist in which dues no longer payable to the EU could be spent on [insert cause of your choice].
But now, the reformed Vote Leave, called Change Britain, have dropped their pre-referendum pledge of a £350m-a-week spending bonanza for the NHS.
Don’t worry – this post is actually about awesome ska legend Prince Buster… Continue reading Madness
Before being distracted by something shiny last week, I was trying to figure out what the hell was going on with this Donald Trump thing. Why, over the past week, have presidential general election polls continued to see Trump bouncing along at 40%, when he’s indicated that a Trump presidency would look like this?
That’s an actual [inside] page from this The Globe back in April, described as the front page we hope we never have to print. The accompanying editorial called Trump’s White House run “flippant and reckless” and “profoundly un-American”. But while this would all seem obvious from within The Globe‘s newsroom, or my Twitter feed, Trump easily won the Massachusetts Republican primary, collecting 22 delegates and nearly 50% of the vote. Meanwhile, over 50% of the voters in the recent EU referendum in these islands voted for an Out campaign fronted by Trump-like trolls.
So rather than dismissing this tendency out of hand, I’ve been trying to think a little about how we came to this pass. Continue reading The Elephant’s Nelly – Pt 2
Last week’s post was described by The Prof as a perfect distillation of an apoplectic.me post – presumably in the hope that I would JUST STOP ALREADY!!! Well, I won’t. Because I distilled it even further, and it was presented on Broadcasting Giant Eddie Mair‘s Radio 4 PM show on 5th August.
[Can’t stop, won’t stop? Get more apoplexy straight to your inbox here.] Continue reading The Elephant’s Nelly
At the end of last week’s post on Democracy, I asked
I was quite pleased with the turnout, although I wouldn’t call it overwhelming. Nevertheless, we have a decision and I intend to carry out the wishes of the apoplectic public. Although I suppose that after my triumph, I should resign from the blog and let another blogger pick up the pieces. Someone with high level experience, and a knowledge of dated British indie music and puns. And a mum, preferably. A mum of kids. A mum of kids who can maintain the high moral tone of the blog. But who fits the bill??? Continue reading Monarchy
Sometimes, it feels like the blog is being hounded by an abstract concept.
The land, maybe. Or mythical creatures. Or The Onion‘s conception of Joe Biden. Right now, though, it’s something else. Maybe you can guess what?
[Get more whimsy and free gin* at the Apoplexy Tiny Letter.]
A day after the result of the #EUref came in, Mrs Stroke Bloke and I hopped on a train to London. Like the narrator of this wee ditty:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gy8d1bQYvmM
“Smoke lingers ’round your fingers / Train, heave on to Euston…”
(Smiths sceptics might find the above performance surprisingly muscular)
It was, y’see, an opportunity to check out an exclave of the soon-to-be nation of #Scotlond. By this time, Scotland’s First Minister had already reached out to the Mayor of London to discuss how their remain-voting areas could ameliorate the impact of Brexit. Continue reading London
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:
In retrospect Sandy Hook marked the end of the US gun control debate. Once America decided killing children was bearable, it was over.
— (((Dan Hodges))) (@DPJHodges) June 19, 2015
Continue reading This Is My Truth, Tell Me Yours
Some years ago, Mrs Stroke Bloke and I noticed that – not much like J. Alfred Prufrock – our relationship could be measured out in international soccer tournaments.
Back in the summer of 2010, I was introducing my new American girlfriend to a Scottish pal in a Brooklyn bar as we watched (was it?) the USA v England in South Africa.
And as well as being beautiful and funny, she already understands the offside rule!
But as Scotland fail, yet again, to qualify for a major tournament at France 2016, how do I find a team to give me a rooting interest? Read on…
[Join the conversation at the Apoplexy Tiny Letter here.]
Continue reading Stroke Bloke at Euro 2016
I’ve been trying to tell myself that it’s too early for an #EURef post. But even now, still two-and-a-half weeks out, the media coverage is suffocating. It’s hard to focus on anything else. Europe touches so much that goes on in the blog.
Last week, Mrs Stroke Bloke and I had just returned from our trip to Northern Ireland and the Republic of Ireland. One thing that really caught our eyes – other than the crazy number of Deloreans on the ferry from Cairnryan to Belfast – was the ease of crossing the border.
[Enjoy apoplectic.me? Get close and personal with the Apoplexy Tiny Letter here.]
Continue reading Vote Man Returns!