“It’s shite being Scottish.” A phrase I’m all too familiar with, and it’s true. Of course, I’m quoting Mark ‘Rent-Boy’ Renton from the 1996 phenomenon that is Trainspotting, rather timely I would be watching such a film and endorsing such a phrase with the release of T2: Trainspotting, but that’s beside the point.
The point I am making is it’s hard being Scottish (believe me, as a straight, white male I know the world is on my side, but it’s open for debate that Scotland is an underdog in a certain union of nations). I’d go further than that, I would happily say it’s shite being Scottish. We’re shite…but we’re also amazing. We are passionate. We are loud. And we aren’t afraid to voice what we believe in – even when we know we aren’t being listened to (again and again).
It isn’t unusual to see a rally take place in Glasgow or Edinburgh – perhaps in George Square (or Independence Square for those Cybernat types) or on the Royal Concert Hall Steps, for the remaining time that they are there.
Hello world, it’s me.
So, I haven’t made a blog post in months. Like…3 months. Sorry about that.
Basically, I’ve had a bunch of stuff on my plate. Uni assignments, work and just trying to enjoy life.
I will make it my New Year’s Resolution to try and post a bit more…I promise.
Watch this space for more.
“I’m Scottish. If you live here, yer as Scottish as I am.”
That quote rings around my head today as Scottish Twitter shows once again we live in a country that refuses to tolerate xenophobia.
In a week that has seen endless headlines over the ridiculous plans to have British companies reveal their foreign workers, Scotland has had enough.
I was ashamed to see the backward-thinking plans. This isn’t a country I want to live in – this isn’t a ‘union’ I want to be a part of.
But, the #WeAreScotland hashtag made me smile.
On Tuesday night I went to the cinema with my girlfriend. The choice? Lights Out – a horror/thriller.
Was that the only film we considered watching? No. But being a young couple in 2016, every one of our possible options was a horror. There is something about being scared shitless that brings out the love in every couple.
Whether it be the joy of hearing your significant other scream or just the need to move closer to them and grab on for dear life during jump-scares, the genre of horror has hit a mark with couples since its creation, and right now it seems to be taking over the market.
Our choice for film was a tough one. Did we want blood and guts with The Purge: Election Year? Did we want suspense with The Shallows? In the end we went for thriller. The trailer and reviews for Lights Out came out on top for us, especially one that dubbed it as 2016’s version of The Babadook – a film that truly made me shit my pants*.
The Battle of Romani, Sinai Dessert, 1916.
A war fought with cavalry, tanks, fighter planes and solid boots on the ground. A war brought to the twenty-first century with Battlefield 1.
In a gaming world with its heart set on advanced warfare and new technology, Battlefield creators EA took a step in the opposite direction, further back than they had ever gone before – the First World War.
And so, they released the Beta stages of the game. One map, two game modes and a hell of a lot of fun.
The Isle of Arran. Golf, beaches, walks and the occasional sunshine.
It’s been the location for holidays for my family since I can remember. It’s a place where my mum grew up, my grandparents lived and I’ve enjoyed annually for my entire life.
After a (rather queasy) hour long ferry trip from Ardrossan harbour my family, Zoe and I arrived on the island for a week of relaxing, exploring and taking semi-professional photographs.
Whether it be the extensive wildlife, the long beaches or the mountain that is Goatfell, Arran has a lot to offer when it comes to photography, and we were certain to take advantage of it.
First of all, I’d like to post a small apology for not blogging in the last few weeks.
Truth is, you see, is I’ve been out enjoying myself.
In a country that is being torn apart, where our political system is a laughing stock of the world, I’ve been out enjoying the privileges of life.
It started off with Magaluf. Of course. Five guys and I made the trip to the party island (a second year in a row for me) to spend a week with sun, sea and copious amounts of alcohol.
It truly is an alcohol filled Disneyland. Everywhere you look there is someone having a party. At times it almost seemed lawless – like we were in control. No matter how mental things got (and despite a number of people clearly being under 18) the parties continued.