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This was an editorial I wrote for the November 2012 edition of the now-deceased magazine Shetland Life “To the world, he was just one. To me, he was all the world.” November is the month of remembrance. Remembering the dead of not just two world wars, but the wars that have taken place since. The…
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Originally published in The Shetland Times. The strange saga of Virdablutt: The lost origins of Up Helly A’? A winter of Up Helly As, in all its manifestations, is almost upon us. Perhaps it is time for me to reveal some of my researches into the strange community of Virdablutt, and the evidence, such as…
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I don’t want a Hermes tie or a Paul Smith suit I just want a decent pair of Wellington boots So that through the deepest mud I can easily trudge Ones that sit secure on my feet, so they never budge If your boot comes off in a boggy patch of ground And with sock…
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The rotting of whisky Out for an (excellent, but teetotal) meal the other week I looked speculatively at the hotel’s vast collection of single malt whiskies, many bottles nearly empty or half-empty. As many had been last time I visited two years ago. And I thought about how whisky is like petrol. There are different…
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The rumours began last year, on internet forums for farmers and Toyota Hilux pick-up truck enthusiasts. I don’t know if there’s a Darknet site for users of ‘technicals’, NSTVs (Non-Standard Technical Vehicles or in Russian Teknikos); That would be Hiluxes (or other imitative truck brands) adapted to carry heavy ordnance such as machine guns, rocket,…
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Hmm…activities or substances that would be frowned upon, if not ruled completely lawless in Glasgow… …whence I have just travelled, if not travailed, arriving in the isles just as Storm Amy cancels all ferries and sends the supermarkets into bare-shelf meltdown. Not a sun-dried tomato to be had. Never mind. I have scoured Tesco for…
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A long stay in Glasgow, the Covid comeback that began it finally receding. It’s the curse that keeps on giving, this plague, isn’t it? Malevolent in its ever-changing variety of symptoms, this time including desperate wheezing and excruciating toothache, every morning a different molar. Inhaling Sensodyne didn’t help. And no free jags for pensioners under…
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We feared curry. My parents were more than nervous; I was terrified. Mum’s wee brother had become a curry convert and we were following in his experimental footsteps up an aromatic stair to the Kashmir in Sauchiehall Street. This would have been the late 1960s and the only two restaurants in Glasgow I remember Uncle…
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I was thrilled to be asked by Cliff Hanley’s family to write an introduction to the republished Dancing in the Streets, which had an enormous influence on my life and career. And on many others I think, including the great Ian Jack. My foreword follows below. You can order the book (published by Birlinn) in…
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Welcome to the Beatcroft newsletter. This week there’s an essay fuelled by the news that the top appetite suppressant drugs are going up in price – and popularity. Read or listen to me reading it. A piece of doggerel on the same subject and then an hour-long Mixloud/Spotify collection of tunes to stimulate your appetite.…
