Adam West – the TV Batman – died this week. As a wee boy, I loved Batman, and Adam West’s Batman and his awesome Batmobile and his colourful cast of supporting characters was a huge part of that.
Pretty cool. But my love for the Batman character has waned in recent years.
There’s more cool stuff in the Apoplexy Tiny Letter.
And thoughts on the new Wonder Woman movie below…
Continue reading Waiting For Gadot
If the Edinburgh International Festival starts in four days, then it must be the beginning of August. It’s even a nice day in Auld Reekie, as if the weather is any guide to what day time of year it is around here.
And if it’s the beginning of August, we must be approaching the third anniversary of The Event – as suggested by last week’s post. I which case, it must also be time that my mindfulness practice, in its largest sense, calls for a check-in.
[What else has been going on? Check out the Apoplexy Tiny Letter to find out!]
Continue reading The Golden Lasso of Truth
The band of which I’m a member, Nerd Bait, has been working on its latest big-banding, Scottish-rapping, disco-jiving long-form concept single. For ease of use, let’s refer to it by the codename I’ve just made up, Aquaman – The Musical.
Actually, Aquaman only came to mind in this relation a few minutes ago. But Nerd Bait’s Prof Paul also sent along some comic-related material as we were discussing the new material. Quite unrelated to the stuff we were writing, you understand. But he had identified a certain apoplectic flavour. Probably partly because of the level of apoplexy evident in Batman is a Corny Dingus. And maybe also because comics are one of the many areas of popular culture in which I regularly display the butterfly-worthy shallowness of my interests on the blog.
[Yeah, like a Tiny Letter distribution – get more whimsy here!] Continue reading Stroke Bloke – Year Three
As followers of the apoplectic.me Tiny Letter will be aware, the University of Edinburgh’s Creative Writers had their second reading night of the year just over a week ago. I co-hosted with my co-host, the handsome and talented Mr Jacques Tsiantar.
For this event, we only had three minutes for each of our individual slots. That’s about 600 words, which isn’t a lot. But fortunately, the first 600 or so words of my stroke-y memoir of extreme survival stop at a real doozie of a line.
