I WAS half-way through Yellowface when it all kicked off.
SOMETIMES social media can raise profound issues which are submerged by fleeting fights and political point-scoring.
MY sincere apologies if this gets a bit nerdy but it’s virtually impossible to write about the surge in excavated pop music without being distracted by technology and terminology.
TRUE crime dominates the popular imagination. It is not simply a Scottish phenomenon, but it is a subject in which we seem to specialise. Podcasts, television shows and paperback books have all successfully scoured the story of the killers that dominate the criminal underground.
THERE is no greater metaphor to describe the events in Gaza than the fog of war.
IT is one of the odd contradictions of modern media that the problem tends to generate much more heat than the solution – unless, of course, it’s a bottle return scheme
IT no longer matters whether England’s high-speed train system is terminated, cut back, or splutters on into a tunnel of compromise: the damage is already done. The job has been botched.
TWO simple words have thrown a tribal grenade into the midst of Scottish football.
SO much is up for auction in modern and popular culture it is difficult to keep pace with value and relevance. I am a keen lurker on various auction sites, and regularly participate in the central weakness of my life – rare soul music and obscure vinyl.
TWO stories triggered my rage meter last week. It did not quite reach incandescent or catatonic, but it simmered away like a watched pot.
