In the aftermath of my viewing of Argo on the way back from the US, the spy news just kept coming…
But let’s leave Jared Kushner and his back channels out of it for now. (Oo-er, missus!) I briefly mentioned the recent shenanigans in China in last week’s Apoplexy Tiny Letter… Continue reading Saints and Sinners
Long-suffering readers of the blog may recall that I’m a sucker for a good airport.
Yes, Copenhagen is a good example. But this past weekend, as President Trump stuffed sachets of ketchup into his hand luggage before heading off on his whistle-stop tour of some of the world’s top religious sites, we were at Washington’s Dulles International Airport.
[Did you catch last week’s Apoplexy Tiny Letter? It’s a nice warm-up for this post.]
Continue reading Argo
So – two weeks later – I’ve finally reconciled myself to the ending of the live-action version of Ghost In The Shell.
My question about the Hollywood movie of Ghost In The Shell was:
Read on for the “exciting” answer…
[But first, check out the exciting Apoplexy Tiny Letter.]
Continue reading Below The Neck
OK. Two weeks ago was #stroke news. Last week was music. That must mean that this week, it’s… SCI-FI!!!
But let’s not be too predictable. I’m not going to bang on too much about last weekend’s Doctor Who. Although Smile was a good little episode. Thought-provoking. In fact, as I think about it again, I reckon that it might have been more satisfying that this week’s bigger, sexier, sci-fi outing.
[For even more satisfaction, check out the Apoplexy Tiny Letter.] Continue reading Ghost in the Shell
Long-suffering readers of the blog may recall that a couple of years ago I went through a bit of an obsession with the moon. (1, 2)
Yeah. Not Mark Kozelek’s Sun Kil Moon, messiah claimant Sun Myung Moon and his Unification Church, or even Ban Ki-moon, eighth Secretary General of the United Nations.
[More, occasionally stroke-related, whimsy here.] Continue reading Moonage Daydream
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?]
It’s early on Monday morning, and I’ve just seen producer Jeremy Thomas and director Ben Wheatley’s adaptation of J.G. Ballard’s High-Rise. Maybe that’s why I’m in a slightly shitty mood.
Not because it’s not a good movie. It is. I think.
[I’d be happy if you’d like to extend the conversation, at the Apoplexy Tiny Letter.] Continue reading S-O-S
Tiny Letter readers will know that Mrs Stroke Bloke and I visited Cairnpapple Hill in central Scotland last weekend. It was an enlightening trip, in light of last week’s post on ’80s movies. Like Withnail and Marwood, we came across a bull in a field. And turning to an obvious omission pointed out by Atletico Marcelo in the comments, Cairnpapple was the site of a little henge.
Continue reading Cairnpapple Hill
Last week, I promised readers of the Apoplexy Tiny Letter a break from the political stuff, after the recent Democracy trilogy (1, 2, 3). And after last week’s Frankie Goes to Hollywood-mendous post, why not stay in the comforting nostalgic embrace of the ’80s?
I mean, seriously? Kayne, John Mayer, and The Police’s version of Message In a Bottle at 2007’s Live Earth concert to combat climate change made me want the Earth’s surface to be heated to 100,000,000°C. But we spoke about that sort of thing last week. And haemorrhagic stroke survivors are meant to keep their blood pressure down. So. Pleasant thoughts… Continue reading I Hate the ’80s
Last week’s post on the nature of memory ended with a scene from Philip K. Dick’s Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? – the (loose) inspiration for Blade Runner.
‘Does she know?’ Sometimes they didn’t; false memories had been tried various times, generally in the mistaken idea that through them reactions to testing would be altered.
Eldon Rosen said, ‘No. We programmed her completely. But I think towards the end she suspected.’
But that’s science fiction, of course.
I wonder what a Philip K. Dick deep in his shroom cups would make of the #Eurovision pixelgasms pic.twitter.com/GHTtHz3Gd0
— Pat Kane (@thoughtland) May 14, 2016
Continue reading My Name is Joe 2 – Partial Recall