Another 'bender' almost over

Hmm, ‘bender’ … Usually when I’m on the skite I just move between my bed and a pub or pubs, not even bothering to switch on my laptop or mobile. This time I was most of the days doing my language studies, following the news, checking my mailboxes and so on and so forth, even looking for and finding a new job. I just couldn’t help going to a pub for three to five pints almost daily (in fact more often than not twice in a day, first in the afternoon then at night). Well, the next week I’m on night shifts so I won’t be able to.

 

 

(originally posted on WordPress)

Sounds from jungle

Mind, of the four neighbours I’ve had so far in this place the current one is the least noisy, so I’d rather he didn’t hurry to move out. And being gay cured me, by and large, of racism decades ago. But since said neighbour moved in I can better understand the racism of former colonisers. The sounds he makes when speaking, even in English, and in particular when laughing, do sound to my ears (which otherwise rarely hear any other than European languages) as something from a David Attenborough programme.

 

(originally posted on WordPress)

Still Game

I never knew about the sitcom until the 7th series began reappearing on iPlayer late last year; I’ve seen all the episodes from that and the following series since then. As often as not the subtitles were missing, so I didn’t nearly get all the quips, but I learned to love it all the same.

There may actually be fewer jokes than in English sitcoms like Upstart Crow or Blackadder; on the other hand, there are serious moments throughout, not just at the very end of the final series. As a consequence, Jack, Victor and the others gradually become like characters from a ‘realistic’ film or book, more like real people than mere caricatures; somewhere towards the last episodes of the last series I realised I would miss them as one misses real-life persons he used to meet and have a good time with for some time.

What I didn’t expect was that at the very end of the very last episode (seen just a couple of hours ago), when most of the main characters, well, depart, I would have to struggle hard to contain my tears (the more so as they do so to Dylan’s Don’t Think Twice, It’s All Right). I think I didn’t actually shed any, but my eyes were so misty it took some time to realise the Clansman’s barman was still, despite the white hair, Boaby.

 

 

(originally posted on WordPress)

William McIlvanney: Laidlaw

 

His life had been spent acquiring compensatory qualities that weren’t natural to him but which enabled him to survive.

(about Harry Rayburn) 

When you’re a misfit you can do nothing else. Except maybe kill yourself.

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They weren’t talking, they were broadcasting.

(about three young men in a pub) 

Given that I can’t find this sense of the verb mentioned in any dictionary, it’s probably this book I’d picked it up from when reading it for the first time a few years ago.

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Tommy was where so many people wanted homosexuals to be, trapped in a ghetto of self-loathing.

(about Tommy Bryson)

When I was growing up it was this, rather than gay-bashing, that was the greatest danger: the possibility that you’d end up perceiving yourself as a morally inferior being simply on account of who you liked.

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He could think of nowhere to go but away.

(about Lennie Wilson) 

Many’s the time I moved flat, even town. With only a few exceptions I didn’t have much of an idea about the place I was going to (sometimes didn’t even look forward to getting there), but I couldn’t wait to get out of where I was.

(originally posted on WordPress)

 

 

Orra = all that?

During my years in Scotland I’ve often heard people say something which to in my ears sounded like “orra”, but none of the definitions given in the DSL (or anywhere else) seemed to make sense in whatever the context was at the moment.

Yesterday I’ve heard it again, a few times in fact, in this video. I decided to ask somebody about it, but rewatching it again today I finally had a moment of revelation: it must be “all that”, and the “r” sound I hear must be due to some phonological process similar to the one which makes some Scots pronounce “the” so that it sounds like “ra”.

 

(originally posted on WordPress)

 

The body image paradox

What’s strange is how on the one side you are bombarded by articles about how pictures in magazines and advertisements and so on drive the female part of the population into anorexia, and on the other hand by articles about how the whole population including its female part is steadily getting more overweight, even obese. If you didn’t go out you would almost think there are no women left who have no problem with their weight either way.

 

(originally posted on WordPress)

Iain Banks: The Crow Road

 

Kenneth had never given Freud much credence; maybe because he had looked as honestly into himself as he could, found much that was not to his taste, found a little that was even just plain bad, but nothing much that fitted with what Freud’s teachings said he ought to find.

 

Of course, I only have the popular knowledge of ‘according to Freud, deep down it’s all about sex’, which I found grossly exaggerated.

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You might imagine supporting them [people], talking with them when they needed to talk, trying to help, but you didn’t imagine that you would be the one desperate to talk (or the one too embarrased to talk, too ashamed or too proud to talk); you didn’t imagine you would be the one who needed help.

(of Fiona Urvill) 

For most of my life I was always ready to be ‘the shoulder to cry on’ for others, and needed none myself, but as I grow old I more and more often miss having one.

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Shit, original sin? What sick fuckwit thought that one up?

(Kenneth McHoan)

I never gave the concept much thought, it seemed so blatantly stupid, but considering that people were beguiled into believing it does make it quite repulsive as well.

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In Glasgow I had taken to sitting in churches. It was mostly just for the atmosphere.

(Prentice McHoan) 

I had occasionally sat in a church to ‘meditate’ before (never outwith Scotland though), but only after settling for some time in Glasgow did I begin doing this with any frequency.

(originally posted on WordPress)

 

 

Recovering

I don’t want to jinx myself, but it looks like after a month of often waking up in sweat, and a few days of runny nose, dry cough and general feebleness (sometimes combined with withdrawal), fought towards the end with antibiotics, nasal drops and dressing very warm (but not staying in bed or even indoors all the time), I’m finally almost all right again. Just in time for the oncoming medical check.

 

 (originally  posted on WordPress)