Welcome to the new, all-singing, all-dancing apoplectic.me. (Disclaimer: May still not sing or dance.) Please get in touch if you have any thoughts on the new design , and particularly if there are any features you think should be added.
[As today’s post testifies, the mask of relentless positivity must slip from time to time. Cheer a Stroke Bloke up, and sign up for alerts and bonus materials at https://tinyletter.com/apoplectic_me.]
Long-term apoplectics, apopostles and friendsoftheblog will no doubt be expecting to read a Doctor Who post today. But it turns out that after the madness on Saturday night, I’m going to have to let 400 years worth of regenerations pass while my thoughts steep like a good cup of tea. Then I’ll probably pop back to have something up for next Monday.
In the meantime, how about some hard science? Continue reading Be Your Own Brain Experiment
In the aftermath of my stroke (remember that?), I’ve found myself increasingly wedded to a positive outlook on the world. I suppose that’s a natural result of a near-death experience. By that, of course, I mean the experience of nearly dying rather than an umbrella term under which Ian Wiki groups “detachment from the body, feelings of levitation, total serenity, security, warmth, the experience of absolute dissolution, and the presence of a light.”
It’s been a month since Beth and I moved to Scotland. Almost ten months have passed since my stroke.
Hi, gang. Ricky, Stroke Bloke and the back office would like to apologize for the tardiness of today’s post. Despite pre-banking this post, we’ve had what might euphemistically be called “technical difficulties”. So, without further ado….
Happy July 4th, American and British friends. I trust y’all’ll be dressing up like New Zealand-rugby-supporting-goths to mourn this day of infamy.
Day 7 without getting beaten up for being some sort of transatlantic nonce. I’m going to have to stop this count. It feels like I’m tempting fate, and, what’s more, we’re going to Glasgow tonight.
After completing Thursday’s post, I was reflecting on the the nature of the Proust Questionnaire. As Ian Wiki will tell you, “[t]he Proust Questionnaire is a questionnaire about one’s personality. Its name and modern popularity as a form of interview is owed to the responses given by the French writer Marcel Proust.” You may have seen it in the pages of Vanity Fair or Q magazine. In fact, Vanity Fair’s website has a fun little interactive page that will set you a Proust Questionnaire, and tell you to which famous person you most closely correspond. It seems I’m very much like Karl Rove, half like David Bowie, and not like Michael Caine at all. But then, you knew that.
First, a couple of updates….
- Seems last week’s emergency room visit was a success:
- The Grauniad has po-facedly waded in regarding Trance (A Hypnotherapist’s View On Trance). I would have expected them to have complaints, but not this one.
I’ve had a complicated relationship with occupational therapy for as long as I can remember. Or, since I started remembering things again.