Hello, and welcome to apoplectic.me’s occasional round-up of strokes in the news. It’s been quite a week….
I saw #TheRevenant. Leo drags a useless leg around for ages, while grunting incomprehensibly. Aah, memories. #stroke pic.twitter.com/VKK1qYNnWC
— Ricky Brown (@ricky_ballboy) February 15, 2016
[More stroke blog inanity and whimsy here.] Continue reading Digesta Plaga #8
There are a lot of potential things to write about on the stroke blog this week. The Fabulous Beth and I went to see the National Theatre of Scotland put on the first two of Rona Munro’s James plays. And I’ve been reading about the translation of the Christian Bible conceived by James I’s and II’s descendant James VI of Scotland. So I suppose you could say I’ve been thinking about Survival in its many forms.
Out, damned spot. Those Stewart and Douglas boys had a bloody rammy while @NTSonline tried to put on #JamesPlays. pic.twitter.com/SiUA8JqDT8
— Ricky Brown (@ricky_ballboy) February 4, 2016
[For more apoplectic.me off-cuts, check out my Tiny Letter.] Continue reading Survival
Before last week’s jaunt to Germany, I’d been zooming out from the origin and reinvention stories of stroke survivors. Instead, I was focusing on the origin stories, anthems, and mottoes of countries: (1, 2)
[Get apoplectic.me’s more whimsical and personal cousin here.] Continue reading The State of Origins, Pt. 3
A blog established in the aftermath of a catastrophic stroke necessarily dwells on issues of personal identity. There have certainly been plenty of those sorts of posts over the past three-and-a-bit years.
But last week found me thinking about the origin stories and “values” of various countries. The French and the Americans have theirs, of course. Forged in, respectively, the white hot heat of revolution and, er, revolution. Eras that demanded flags and symbols and identities around which to rally. Their own spasm-ing bouts of apoplexy, if you will.
So, where does that leave national constructs closer to home?
[Get apoplectic.me’s more whimsical and personal cousin here.] Continue reading The State of Origins, Pt. 2
It was quite a filmic weekend.
On Friday night, Beth and I went to a packed Filmhouse 2 to see The Hateful Eight. Definitely in my top three Tarantino movies.
Although it’s reminiscent of Reservoir Dogs in its bunch-of-desperados-trapped-in-a-room central conceit, a number of Leone-esque shots of a mythic American landscape pepper the movie.
On Saturday, we stayed in and (finally) watched There Will Be Blood. Like The Hateful Eight and Once Upon a Time in the West (both scored by Ennio Morricone), it’s got a great score that carries long, dialogue-free stretches of film. In this case, the score is by Johnny Greenwood (or Radiohead and collaborations with the terrifying Krzysztof Penderecki).
Watching these two movies in quick succession got me to thinking…
[For more thoughts, sign up for the Apoplexy Newsletter here.] Continue reading The State of Origins, Pt. 1
What a busy week it’s been, on and around apoplectic.me.
Of course, if you’re on the distribution list for the Apoplexy Newsletter, you’ll be aware of all of this.
So, how could anyone possibly remember where we were last Monday, at the end of Lies, Lies, Lies, Pt. 1…? Continue reading Lies, Lies, Lies, Pt. 2
Hello, and welcome to the penultimate apoplectic.me post of the year. Maybe. I was thinking that the only post after this one would be some sort of end-of-year round up, but that’s not necessarily true. [It wasn’t – Ed.]
Either way, it’s time to pull together a couple of strands from recent posts, and tie them together in a nice big festive bow.
[Give yourself a wee Christmas present, and sign up for the Apoplexy Newsletter here.] Continue reading Lies, Lies, Lies – Pt. I
Last Wednesday, I attended my class’s graduation ceremony from the Masters of Science programme in Creative Writing (?!) at the University of Edinburgh. As I wrote at the time…
We all had a lovely time. And I’m proud to be able to say that with the help of Beth and Paw Broon, I’m a post-stroke graduate! I have to say, though, that while it was nice to punctuate a wonderful year, it’s a bit concerning to be leaving the leafy groves of academe for a highly competitive world 18 years after I did it the first time.
Fortunately, Book Week Scotland was taking place out in the real world at the same time. And that helped ease the transition….
[In the Stroke Bloke privacy spectrum, get the good stuff and have a chat over here.]
Over the past couple of weeks, life in Edinburgh has moved along at its usual break-neck (for a stroke survivor) pace. But the news cycle hasn’t stopped. In rUK, they’re in the midst of the party conference season.
I don’t think I’ve ever seen Manchester look so nice! The wee fella in the picture above gets a look-in because, in 1933, he ordered a project that would produce a basic vehicle capable of transporting two adults and three children at 100 km/h. And this led to the creation of Volkswagen, which has been featuring in stroke news while I’ve been busy. Although you might not know it, cos no one’s suggested VW has been trying to give you a stroke, right? Continue reading Have a Scooby-Doo
Back in January, I wrote briefly of Moritz Erhardt. He’s rarely far from my mind, if I’m honest.
Moritz was a 21-year-old intern at Bank of America Merrill Lynch in London who, ten-and-a-half months after my haemorrhagic stroke, died after working three nights in a row. Early each morning, he would pop home for a quick shower while his taxi waited outside, before returning to the office. As a news report at the time wrote, “this procedure is so commonplace that it has a name: the magic roundabout.”
But let’s ruin a different childhood memory this time….
[Want a beautiful memory? Check out Nerd Bait‘s retelling of The Tale of The Little Mermaid with a bunch of talented people in attendance at Illicit Ink‘s Happily Never After as part of the Jura Unbound strand at the Edinburgh International Book Festival tomorrow.]