PART ONE: Lord Justice-Clerk Ormiston was called the Curse of Scotland. And when the Ladies were at Cards, the Nine of Diamonds (also commonly called the Curse of Scotland) was known to them as The Justice Clerk. In the 18th century in Scotland, the nine of diamonds was considered to be the most unlucky card in the deck.
Ormiston was one of the Commissioners promoted to inquire into the Massacre of Glencoe on 28 May 1695, and he became unpopular because of the powers awarded to his position in order for him to reach conclusions in the muderous affair. In February 1699 he succeeded Lord Raith as Treasurer-depute of Scotland, which he retained until the accession of Queen Anne, when he was dismissed from all his offices.
Later however, he obtained a commission appointing him a second time as Lord Justice Clerk, dated 8 January 1705, and was at the same time appointed to succeed Lord Whitelaw as a Lord Ordinary in the Court of Session, a place he retained until his death, in his 79th year.
The connection between Ormiston and the playing card is surely rooted in Glencoe. If you need reminding, John Dalrymple, 1st Earl of Stair was Scottish lowland noble who convinced King William to sign an order to extirpate the clan McDonald in a heinous event known as the Massacre of Glencoe. Extirpate here meaning something like — root out and destroy.
Scotland was outraged, especially when King William absolved both himself and the Earl of any wrongdoing. The Dalrymple coat of arms features nine diamonds arranged like the playing card, so it is very likely that the nine of diamonds became associated with the much-hated Dalrymple.
Now Read PART TWO.
Does Anyone Here Remember Scotart? The extent of these regional artists' achievement was summarised in the arty-papers as related to their cash-money appeal in order to put those with buying power into a receptive state. The victims were all 20 - 40 year old artisitic strays who for the sake of appearing briefly 'famous' posed I thought tragically in the colour supplements. As a person develops and the memory of childhood wanes the question inevitably rises: how to become the centre of attention once again? I used to be an artist myself but that all changed when I visited with aliens. Then I began to know what it was going to take to truly ascend.
This is still no on print. I know I’m trying to do it on here. That thing’s is still no on. Just remind me are you in the morrow? I don’t know if you need to sign this or not because that toss has fucked my computer. See now you ask me I’ve forgotten. Mine’s isnae working either. This is nae dialling out. Is yours a Samsung N four hundreds? Will that get to Debbie by the morrow? I never thought on a coffee til you said it. Garry’s just came into next door’s. It was strange it was two cheques came cause it was through the Enterprise. Is that client away working anyway? When I leave here the morrow lunchtime I’m in the town all afternoon. He’s a fucking monkey – that offer’s up five hundred pound. Why is nothing going to the printer? I know those solicitors have got those offer papers so that means those clients are holding this up. They’ve done other stuff after their mortgage. I spoke to him a few times so that’s how I thought maybe I knew his number. Ah bugger right up my nail — I’m going to go on holiday with a sore finger. I’m just away to phone the furniture place so how long do you want to wait for this chair?
The Northern declivity of the hill of Parkhouse is called Aikey Brae or Yackie Brae. In the 1980s there was a play by The Invisible Bouncers, the theatre group of Alastair McDonald, called Pinky Brae, and it was an exceptional hit, at least in the North East. I'm trying to track down some stuff about the play at the present.
The name Aikey Brae is supposed to have derived from the aiks (oaks) of the area, which once clad the hill. Another idea is that the hill claims its name from Achaicus (or Yochock) a Pictish King.
Until the 20th century, the Aiky Fair was still held in the area, and marked with the removal of the relics of Achaicus’ brother, St Drostan, from Aberdour to Deer, on the third Wednesday in July.
On Aikey Brae, it is said one of the Earls of Buchan fell from his horse at hunting, and was killed. The facts of the case state that this happened because the earl had called Thomas the Rhymer, the great prognosticator, Thomas the Lyer.
Though Thomas the Lyar thou call’st me,
A sooth tale I shall tell to thee
By Aiky-side thy horse shall ride,
He shall stumble and thou shalt fa’;
Thy neck-bane shall break in twa,
And maugre all thy kin and thee,
Thy own belt thy bier shall be.
Realists polish their lenses to capture the multifarious aspects of the external world. They pride themselves upon the soundness and the sanity of their vision. Realist writers never doubt the totality of the objective world.
But there are others! These writers are not so well appreciated, it is true, but they cultivate the inner vision, abandon the paved highway of standardised points of view, brave the quick-sands of non-conformity, and seek their own path through the quagmires of subjectivity.
Far ere's slurry ere's sillar? Nae here. Boyndlie is an estate as opposed to a village, or you might like to picture it as a scattered community of farms and other houses.
Boyndlie House lies about six miles SW of Faserburgh, and is a seat of a branch of the Forbes family - although I know the family as being called Ogilvie-Forbes, as have been for at least a century.
Filed under 'Sex Clubs of the Enlightenment', The Beggar's Benison was a drinking club in Anstruther, Fife, which lasted from its establishment in until 1836.
The Beggar's Benison is famous now for the collective masturbation of its members, something that made up a part of the intititaion ceremony. The club's members were basically from the upper classes of Fife society, being landowners, merchants and customs contrololers and the like, and they dined and drank together, and related obscene songs and toasts. Much of their purpose of the club was the discussion of sex and anatomy, and the club had a stock of pornography as well as a habit of hiring naked "posture girls" for the members to examine.
This is a list of the Club's Founding Members, as related in a document titled
RECORDS OF THE MOST ANCIENT AND PUISSANT ORDER OF THE BEGGAR'S BENISON AND MERRYLAND, ANSTRUTHER,
published in Anstruther and PRINTED FOR PRIVATE DISTRIBUTION ONLY (MDCCCXCII)
Petrus Bonus, author of The New Pearl of Great Price, wrote about 1330, that "God would become man on the Last Day of this art, when the work is accomplished…. Now, since no creature except man can unite with God, on account of their dissimilarity, God must needs become one with man." Could do with him about, Petrus Bonus. I could have done with him during my kidnapping. The two of us would have made a spiffing brace of doppelgangers, double Peters, all the Petrocs. I would have done the brutal stuff (Pete) and he would have explained the above passage.
Two questions arise. Who produces this webpage, and then who reads it?
I says like this : listen you money-hungering server owners and bloodthirsty porn purveyors, that bleeding FHM website is full of lies and the lassies in it are all bollocks. It is high time they lassies realised what they were doing and put their faith in more sensible employment, such as working in a record shop, or selling programs at the game, and then you shopkeepers with your middle to top shelf nasties, would be put to shame.
And then I says to them, that LOADED website is worse, and everyone that reads it dies after a short illness.
This year's winner is Keith Imray Imray with his novel
AW THE DUGS CAAED TOPAZ
Congratulations go to Kevin Imray Strathie of Forfar, the winner of the 2016 Forfar International Book Prize (formerly the Forfar Book Prize) for a first original novel set in, about, or by a person from Forfar. Aw The Dugs Caaed Topaz is an exciting debut and we look forward to seeing it on the shelves. Well done Keith!
There are no difficult books just difficult authors, all bunged up to Hegel with systematic, deliberate obfuscation, intent on a Freemasonry of Fictive Arts, or much more likely, an exegesis of Fictive Frameworks so covert as to be ciphered for a public the size of a Seminar.
The ownership of a bank account excites a sage contempt for social morality. Customers too, I’d be the doormat of the decade if only they had a vote. And yet people had me down as this weakling, just because my anarchism never scared anybody. They were all slavering dogs, they liked to frighten people, or at least they didn’t mind. Me though, I just can’t get tough. I don’t feel the rage so much any more. I just get the anger. I’m no good at it though, really no good. Can I still be an anarchist, I wonder? You’d think then that this was the moment, but it wasn’t. How many pages have I written? I still haven’t attacked the state. How did I become such a coward?
This is my favourite photograph of Marcel Duchamp. It sometimes goes under the title of 'Marchel Duchamp's Departure for America'. An artist like Duchamp is unique in everything, and sometimes that comes down to the pure ephemera such as this photograph represents.
Let us look at it in detail.
The jury system is something exceptional in the representitive democracies of present day capitalism, the only time when institutionally ordinary people have real power.
All that happened with the Angry Brigade was that it cheered up the relatively powerless for a while.
both from John Barker in a review of 'Anarchy in the UK: The Angry Brigade' by Tom Vague, AK Press