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.
Now we’ve been married for as long as the three-and-a-half weeks I was in Brooklyn’s Methodist Hospital before my transfer to the Rusk Institute, I thought it might be time to scribble down some thoughts about what just happened – figure out what it was all about….
What a busy week it’s been, on and around apoplectic.me.
I’ve put Broken Mirror – The Collected Bird’s Fate Postsback up on the site. These posts have been absent from the site for a while, as they’ve been presented in other forums. But now the true story of how I met Susanne Whyte from Bird’s Fate, and found out heroes are just people like you and me, is back in one piece.
Doing that was inspired by the posting of The Prof’s liner notes to an awesome cover of Mariah Carey’s All I Want for Christmas is You over at nerdbaitband.com.
Meanwhile, my short story Phoenix Park went live over at The Dublin Inquirer. It’s part of their Christmas special fiction issue, which collects stories about superheroes set in Dublin. Pop over and have a look. And if you like it, please do leave a comment.
4. Er… that’s it.
Of course, if you’re on the distribution list for the Apoplexy Newsletter, you’ll be aware of all of this.
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.
Recent posts here at apoplectic.me have evinced my current obsession – mythical sea creatures from the Loch Ness Monster to mermaids to sirens. If one was of an apoplectic bent, one might even see evidence of perseveration.
During the past couple of weeks, for no particular reason, I’ve found myself relating to a number of different people – independently – the experience that Longsufferinggirlfriendoftheblogeth and I had at Good Life, Good Death, Good Grief’s death cafe not long after we moved to Edinburgh.
When I was a teen bandaged heads scared me I read a lot of crime fiction. I wrote a book report on the granpaw of Scottish Noir, William McIlvanney’s Laidlaw. I read a bunch of Robert B. Parker’s Spenser novels. And I got into Parker because he was asked to finish the Marlowe novel, Poodle Springs. And I loved Chandler.
“Well, I do see The Whole Nine Yards as a continuation/commentary on the hard-boiled genre. Don’t you, Bruce?”
Hi there. I think that last week’s post, Damages, was intended as the first part of a pen diptych. But now a week has passed, I’m not entirely sure what the second half was meant to look like. Maybe it will have come to me by next week.
As we journey through the winter solstice festivals, it’s a time for reflection. My pal Andy likes to use Shabbat as a weekly milestone to gauge (and possibly adjust) his trajectory, noting that it’s a bite-sized amount of time that lends itself to this kind of exercise.
Passing from one calendar year to the next lends itself to a similar exercise, but taking a view of longer cycles. Having passed solstice, while dawn is staying at roughly the same time in Edinburgh, we’re slowing digging out from absurdly early sunsets and striking out towards the long evenings of summer. This is to say, I’m looking forward to packing up 2014 and embarking on 2015.
“Thank you for watching. Now go away.”
[Though, not until you’ve subscribed to the apoplectic Tiny Letterhere.]
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→