Category Archives: Stroke

Presidential Cookie Bake-Off

Last week’s post closed with the reflections of the Scottish Falsetto Sock Puppet Company on the nature of the BBC weather map.

“In a wee country, dreams stay with you…”

This isn’t an original problem, of course. Africa’s got it a lot worse. There’s a summary of some of the problems and approaches to mapping here. Have a think about what projections of the globe you like, and then find out why Randall xkcd hates you here.

‘What’s this got to do with strokes?’ you might ask. If you’ve not been here before.

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Continue reading Presidential Cookie Bake-Off

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Burns Night

Address to a Haggis
(extract)

His knife see rustic Labour dight,
An cut you up wi ready slight,
Trenching your gushing entrails bright,
Like onie ditch;
And then, O what a glorious sight,
Warm-reekin, rich!

Robert Burns

Get tae Falkirk, Rabbie, ya bass!

I’ve been writing a wee bit in Scots, or Scots forms (Lowland Scots, to differentiate from Scots Gaelic), a lot in recent weeks. Firstly, for a short story that I’ve submitted for workshop tomorrow, and secondly for the Nerd Bait Liederbuch. Continue reading Burns Night

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Brain of Mutilation

I’m back in uni for the second semester (well, trimester) of the 2014-15 academic year.

Well, there’s an opening line to strike excitement into the hearts of men. Didn’t they say in first semester to start a flash piece strongly? Yep. So, if you’re looking for that sort of thing, please think about checking out my piece in the first issue of the new international journal of English-language poetry and short fiction, Brain of Forgetting.

I shouldn’t have been able to see Glen Coe from Brooklyn. It’s thirty-two hundred miles. Yet the last thing I saw was a cairn.

Kurt sez, “This is how you do it: ‘All this happened, more or less.'”

You can pick up a free digital edition of Brain of Forgetting #1: Stones here. It’s a good-looking, 106-page book that’s also available in hard copy. Continue reading Brain of Mutilation

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BRRRAAAAAIIIIIINNNNSSSS!

A good part of the past week has been taken up with research for a short story about a young transgender Hibs fan (in Lowland Scots, natch) and contemplating a creative reaction to the Christopher Orr exhibition at the Talbot Rice Gallery. So, a few nights ago, I needed to come up with something for the blog. A spark, if you will. An idea.

Ding! (h/t Videographeroftheblogmyra)

[Please think about signing up for the apoplectic.me Tiny Letter here.
I think it’s increasingly complementary to the blog. But, judge for yourself.
]

Continue reading BRRRAAAAAIIIIIINNNNSSSS!

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Digesta Plaga #7

Longsufferinggirlfriendoftheblogbeth mentioned the other day that it’s been over a year since we’ve had a Digesta Plaga/Stroke Digest. And with uncanny timing, here’s the latest round-up of all the stroke news that’s fit to print. Get to the end, and we’ve got strokebots!

“Alda news that’s fit to print” (with apologies to Gil Faizon and George St. Geegland).

[For an extra portion of apoplexy each week, please sign up for my Tiny Letter distributions here. Thanks!] Continue reading Digesta Plaga #7

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Hello to Jason Isaacs!

One of the first things you’ll notice strolling around Edinburgh is the collection of private schools that seem to have dropped out of context and out of the sky. Pudgily gothic Fettes. The ersatz Red Square on the Thames of Stewart’s-Melville.

Fettes: James Bond’s alma mater after getting kicked out of Eton

Last week, I was wandering along Lauriston Place, heading in a roundabout sort of way towards Cockburn Street to see if the t-shirt shop had replenished its stock of John and Yokos. Heading east along the street, I was distracted from George Heriot’s School looming from an Edinburghian distance by the sounds of Kermode and Mayo’s Film Review on BBC Radio Five Live.

[The apoplectic.me Tiny Letter distribution usually riffs off in a different direction from the week’s post. Check it out here.]

Continue reading Hello to Jason Isaacs!

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#WorldStrokeDay

Belated happy World Stroke Day, everyone. It went down on 29 October. That means for the 2012 iteration, I would still have been lost in the micronation of Apoplexia. This year, in my incarnation as Nerd Bait’s Wurdz Boy, I was feeling much more peppy.

[This week, I’d totally appreciate it if my lady readeresses (and their gentlemen friends) sign up for the apoplectic.me Tiny Letter distribution and join the fray. Read on to see why….] Continue reading #WorldStrokeDay

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Jazz

Was anyone keeping an eye on the award of the Man Booker Prize last week? It’s, like, the World Cup for novels.

Well, that’s not quite right. Historically, the Man Booker has only been open to authors of the Commonwealth, the Republic of Ireland, or Zimbabwe. So it’s kind of more like the Commonwealth Games for novels. The 2014 prize was the first year the prize was open to authors from anywhere in the world. AS Byatt said the prize risked diluting its identity, but blog favourite A.L. Kennedy was all for it.

And Commonwealth Games mascot Clyde says, “Ha ha! Keep the Yanks out!”

[Sign up here for apoplectic.me Tiny Letter distributions, and more hilarious insular nationalism] Continue reading Jazz

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Something Fishy

I mentioned once that I had let slip to Longsufferinggirlfriendoftheblogbeth that “I didn’t solely come back from [stroke-y] death because I had to see her one more time. I wanted to see her one more time, and tell her that everything was going to be OK.”

And that that was a a lie, solely to the extent I didn’t think I was going to survive.

I read something last week that, had I known it at the time, would have meant I could have delivered the message with a clear conscience. Continue reading Something Fishy

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The Kübler-Ross Model

Well. We have to talk about the be-kilted elephant in the room, slumped in the corner, clasping a sticky bottle of Buckfast to his chest.

Things that aren’t Scottish, #94

Longsufferinggirlfriendoftheblogbeth tells me that referendum questions in the States are usually comprised of statutory legalese. Below that, they’re explained in less comprehensible terms for the voter. But the choice on Scotland’s #indyref ballot paper was stark.

[Sign up for apoplectic.me alerts and extra personal reflections here.] Continue reading The Kübler-Ross Model

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