I Never Attacked the State

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?

The Range of the Awful Hand

The Range of the Awful Hand is a range of hills in the Southern Uplands of Scotland, so called due to their resemblance to the fingers of a hand...

It's also the name of a band from Edinburgh, two members of which were formerly in Gilded Lil (check this Gilded Lil playlist if in any doubt as to the genius of that bunch.)

 

Range of the Awful Hand

 

Download recent stuff from The Range of the Awful Hand here.

The Range of the Awful Hand

Are the Scottish Documentary Film Institute Cheating Us?

I don't always want to be the one harping on about how public money is wasted on the arts, but it seems that the 2016 work of the Scottish Documentary Film Institute is going to drag my knuckles across the desk to the keyboard, so that I can commence with another rant.

I mean - - the fact that Creative Scotland can actually fund these guys to the tune of about £17,000 for each one minute video is insane, but that only becomes apparent when you actually see any of their work.  Having searched for the Scottish Documentary Film Institute (SDFI) I can also say they seem to be pretty well hidden, too, often hiding behind claims that their work 'needs to be secret to be effective.'

Read more: Are the Scottish Documentary Film Institute Cheating Us?

Mutation / Aspects

MUTATION:  Charm: With this power, you can exude a pheromone that makes all humans in the area trusting, happy, and generous. Honest, too. You're not completely immune to your own power, however!

SOCIETY:  Death Leopard: The Death Leopards do whatever they can to have fun.  That's what it's all about, right? And what's more fun than explosions, gunfire, and wreckin' shit?!

Your mission today is to set fire to at least five things and/or three people. You've got a pocket full of IgnaLight Stickers just for that purpose.  Just stick one to something, scratch it, and... Well, at that point try to get a few feet away.

Read more: Mutation / Aspects

Lager Shanty

Lager Shanty: In that order.  Another evening of wein, weib und gesang in Sordid Glasgow.  And after "Gies a Tune" with DJ Malky Brogan on Radio Clype, and the flicking back and forth of the television in a yawning half-contemptuous manner, what could we do other than run up the starry path to meet Oblivion coming down? Later on, this typical Glasgow scene comes complete with the two shandied lovers slipping each others' tight leashes to go separately in the night, each to an off-sales of their choosing, for more of the Same.

I Got This from my Employers

Dear Peter

We have based the following appraisal on reports made by our clients on your habits of work, co-operation, ability to perform repetitive tasks, the quantity of work you achieve and your suitability for business.

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Editorial Piles in IRL

It may be worth my while to note that the book reviewers of the last two decades ought to be included in my list of Biblioclasts and as the enemies of IRL books. Many books that lie in stacks in newspaper offices, due to the large amount delivered there, have had a few leaves removed, and in many others whole sections torn out. 

I suppose it served the journalists’ purpose thus to use the wisdom of writers but books are delivered to newspapers unbidden and yet in good faith as perfect, and when they lie unreviewed in their hundreds,  the editors are quick to cause damage if found defective or low in quality in their eyes, while the publisher has no redress.  This way, books are destroyed in the thousands, each year.

Read more: Editorial Piles in IRL

Kelman Acceptance Speech 2012

I wish I'd heard James Kelman's Saltire acceptance speech.  I read about it ... it raised an eyebrow.  I searched the net but nobody had published it, though I did find this quote:

 

Our culture is as rich as any culture and it’s shocking to me that our children, and the likes of myself at the age of 66, have to struggle to fucking express it.

 

It was enough!  I don't know if James Kelman said that or not, but that is what I heard.

There isn't much competition for quality writing, I mean among people that are alive.  James Kelman has pretty much being holding the lot of it down, singlehanded for Scotland since the 1980s, with nobody that I've seen or heard writing anything as good. 

What I mean by good I'll have to express later.  I'd never thought of Kelman as struggling to express his Scottishness, and I don't know what he means about our children.

Boyndlie

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.

Read more: Boyndlie

Nocturne #2

 

The content and purpose of dreams are not definitively understood, though they have been a topic of scientific speculation and a subject of philosophical and religious interest throughout recorded history:

Free cinema : in an open field we approached the screen, through rows of racked chairs. Close to the screen I met the lead actor, a real stiff-jaw, he stood way up above me. The actor was able to look over my head he was so tall. The field was filling with audience, and there were chunks of snow left on the ground. I turned to speak to some people I knew, the three most intelligent boys from school. The three boys sat on one seat and had their school blazers stuffed with library books. I walked further back; I had lost the friends I arrived with. Also, there were no safe seats left in the field, and this was out of many thousand. Most of the seats seemed to be sinking in the mud and melting snow. I left for the town, which was dark, and full of circular terraces, where one would descend and then reappear. I found that the best way to get back to the field was through a primary school, but I was escorted out of here, and taken to the seaside. Dawn, and the film was over. The snow even, was much melted, and I had missed everything.  Passing up the opportunity for fried foods from a shack, I walked along the sea front, to look for my friends.

Greatness Revisited

The idea of great artists came to me long after I’d learned to paint.  You could find out who I considered to be great, but that would only tell you something about me.

You could make your own list to the same effect but what good would that do you? You would be as well listing the great flowers of all time, the greatest icebergs in the world, the towns with the greatest air, or the greatest breadsticks that ever were made. Kiel has the greatest canal in Europe. Or myaybe it does not and perhaps the honour is due to Venice or to Manchester.

You’ll find that there are so many great things in the end that you're wasting your time with this policy, and the only thing that stops everything from being great, is yourself.

Try it now. Try and say something nice next time you open your mouth. You might be able to manage it once but you probably can’t keep it up for very long. If you’re like me, you’re a cynic because you’ve been bred a cynic ... and you see so much of the world as a chance for you to shine with your luminous criticism. It's all you and me have, and it's what keeps us from the rarity of greatness ...

Naff Dress Code

Naff Dress Code


True Dinner


"Potomas Porch", "Horsey House" and "Lama Lodge" are still available

FLIGHT PATHS OF MAJOR AIRPORTS

Germane Auditories, Obverse Excuses for exploitation,

(with Minor devils)

And being a flourishing branch of the noble family of, we will also be performing


(with all night)


Bones, Hairs, Nails and Teeth

 

The Last Mince Pie in Aberdeen

Aberdeen Journal, 31st August 2037:

The suburb of Gilcomston, which last week fell to the Gibleteers (one time of Holburn), is to be destroyed this evening at 6PM. The last team of arbiters, which left the area at noon on the 30th, complained bitterly at the state to which the citizens of "unoccupied” Aberdeen have been reduced.

"It stands to reason," said Chief Moderator Frunkie Meldrum, "that when one section of a populace lay claim to such a large proportion of the pies, the rest will begin to bray for blood."

And this is exactly what has happened. Mothers yesterday welcomed the move, and "single-operative-parents" (SOPs) gathered from Kittybrewster and Garthdee, to stone and to boo/hiss the Gilcomstonian population after it is herded out after the rout. Several mothers' groups have been calling for the storming of Gilcomston for some weeks now. "Aboot fichen time ken," said Dana Hattons, ex of The Corther. “Wor kids hae nae hid nae pies fir weeks ken, and at's shite."

For the last 4 weeks the lack of mince pie in the Northeast has been critical, and Angus Dung-dee Substitute has proved unpopular with the people, who have largely refused to even feed it to their dogs (although the kids don't seem to mind). Aberdeen Football Club's benefit single "Our Goad is Mince" (B side : Billy Dodds’ Avatar sings : Mincey-Wincey Spider) raised funds to feed Tullos Academy pies for school lunches, for one week, but with the price of meat now exceeding the price of bus fares, even charity is uneconomical.

"Rumour is they've struck mince," said A. A. Milne of Texaco Drilling Co. "We for one sold them twenty million pounds of chopped onion." But the controversy will rage no longer, and arbitration has reached the dead-end field at the fuck-end of bad behaviour, and the Militia move in at 6PM.

"They'll absail down St Nicholas House," said Special Dowser Barney "Premium Cut" Sillerton, "and break through the cordons at Wolmanhill Hospital. The troops will stage a faked move on the Old Age Compound erected at Rosemount, and while this is going on, the Beef Dump will be drained by our special Cornhill Crack Squad, using only straws."

Should the raid be successful, and the peoples of Gilcomston routed, then we could once again be enjoying our pies," said Councillor Alwyn Lamb (age 6).

In the meantime, experiments continue. Scientists are working on a new substitute known as Diced Forfar Briney, and the last cow is to be auctioned at the Beach Ballroom, in a special ceremony tonight, hosted by Nicki Campbell IV (under the armed protection of the Beef Volunteer Reserve Force).

Who are these Wordsworthian Pantheists?

We do not go to church and are not religious in what we refer to as "the conventional sense." We do believe in a "higher power" and in a transcendent morality and we love to see the sun shining through stained glass windows. We love beautiful old rhyme but prefer to spend Sunday morning in bed, or with our eyes upon the newspaper.

We approve of the Elizabethan concept of immutability, but it does not run in the blood. Life is not nasty, brutish and short. We are intrepid in opinions we have heard and which can be backed up by at least two separate arguments. We often argue that religion is dangerous or bad, so we rely on journalists to bring order to the lack of cause or consequence in the world.

We are of the sprint and not the marathon. Tremendous excitement is what we mean by joy and when we sit down to our dinner, or to watch our television, we fully expect to be there 25 years later. When forced to choose we panic and settle on the immediate material, and although God is off the radar, we still secretly require something to lend authority to our morals.