Archive
Farewell to liberation
The Twitterophiles who have persuaded me that it is impossible to function in this century without being a cell in the global entity may find themselves coming to regret it. The benefits of Twitter to those who wish to share their every waking moment with the rest of the world, are blindingly obvious. (Although it may be a little naive to assume that the rest of the world gives a toss.) They can do so, within wifi range, anywhere, any time, any place. Yes, even there. I am prepared to bet that as I write this, and as you read it, people are sat on toilets around the world with both thumbs firing away and their garments around their ankles.
Actually there is nothing new in such a form of time management. The great Henry Longhurst of the Sunday Times, doyen of all golf writers, always insisted that his weekly column appeared in the lower right hand quarter of the back page, so that it could be folded into a manageable size for the comfort, the convenience even, of lavatorially sedentary readers. Its word count was also designed with that circumstance in mind. Possibly Henry would have taken to the new area, but I suspect that he would not. Instead I can picture him looking down from the great golf club bar in the sky on Rory, and Poults and Ben, and Bubba, reflecting that he is rather glad to have been and gone before their time.
Yes, we are all Tweeters now it seems; even @QuintinJardine. Yet as a writer, in joining the ranks in their billions, am I not guilty of betraying the language in which I communicate? For in a world where individuals’ birth-names are being replaced already in common usage by their Twitter handles, how long can it be before the rest of our vocabulary is distorted beyond recovery, before words of more than two syllables fall out of use and eventually out of memory? It is said that Twitter offers a form of freedom. But sure as hell, it is not said that it offers a form of liberation, for that word is far too long to use when one is restricted to 140 characters, spaces included.
What is the future for the multisyllabic? Are we a dying breed? Are we all doomed to use fo0tballer-speak, to a life of trying to understand the generally incomprehensible musings of @rioferdy5? It may be so, but I for one will fight against it, even as I Tweet, (but never on the bog, I promise).
Get well, Shirl
For all followers of Primavera, say a large one for Shirley Gash. Her life model hasn’t been very well this week; happily the prognosis is good. Love and hugs, gal.
After years of scepticism, you can now follow QJ on Twitter: @QuintinJardine
Progress, eh?
Sluggish boarding
Memo to Easyjet: when you sell speedy boarding then cram everyone on to a bus, you are conning your customers.
On being a Scot
The Electoral Commission’s recommendation last week on the wording of the question that will go on the ballot papere for the referendum on Scottish independence prompted remarkably little debate. We are now to be asked simply ‘Should Scotland be an independent country?’ This change was accepted without argument or debate by the Scottish Government, which had intended to ask ‘Do you agree that Scotland should be an independent country?’
Did the governing party expect a more radical alternative, rather than hair-splitting? Was that why Nicola Sturgeon was so quick to agree? She’s not going to tell us, but I suspect that was the case.
I suppose that one question is as good as another. To me the words on the paper are not the issue; it’s the unspoken question that each voter should ask that counts, the one I’ve asked myself already. ‘Are you Scottish first, British second, or vice versa?’ Me? I’m a true Scot, born, bred and brought up in an ancient nation. As such, I do not want the major decisions that affect my life, and the future path of my nation, on economic policy, taxation, defence, foreign relations, and institutional regulation, to continue to be taken by a majority elected in another country to a parliament that sits hundreds of miles away.
For the next eighteen months we are going to be fed scare stories by one side and bullshit by the other. None of it matters to me. I’ve answered my key question, without the help of the eminent former controller of BBC Scotland and his commissioner colleagues. Having done so I feel that it’s my duty to vote ‘Yes!!!!”
Events
Check out the events page for a few engagements that I’ve taken on. The first are tomorrow, a signing at Kesley’s in Haddington, followed by an event at Dalkeith Library. All comers welcome.
Grand
A place not to miss when visiting New York City.
The Scottish Tories need to be Ruth-less
Once again, I am pleased to give a plug to a piece by Kenneth Roy, editor of the Scottish Review, and one of Scotland’s finest journalists. One of the prime functions of the thinking press (I draw a distinction between them and the red-tops) is to highlight and hold up to ridicule the sillier pontifications of our political classes, in this case Ms Ruth Davidson, Leader (but not for much longer, I suspect) of the Scottish Conservative Party.
Fergus Bruce-Watt
Fergus, your CV reads like a novel, and you live in a beautiful part of the world. You must be a happy man. I never met you father, but I know that he was part of he fabric of the city of his time.
There is one omission from your list of Scottish crime writers, my good friend Paul Johnston. You probably know him of old, for you and he were at the same school at the the same time. Looking at your ages, you fit halfway between him and Tony Blair.
Margaret Booth
Thank you for that generous testimonial. I’ll pass it on to AJ at http://www.campbellreadbooks.com.
Patricia Carter
Careful, you don’t want to be too close to some of the action.
Right said Fred
Thanks to Fred Macaulay, one of the nicest guys on radio, for inviting me to join him this morning. I’ve been in a fair few broadcasting stations around the world; call me biased, narrow-minded, anything you like, (within reason) but my global favourite is the riverside HQ of BBC Scotland. I envy those who work there; if they had any office space available I’d rent it and commute from Gullane. For those who missed my slot and would like to catch up, try this link:
http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b01py883
As it’s radio, it should work internationally. When you open it move the slider along until you’re 50 minutes into the programme. Better still, move it 30 – 35 minutes in and you’ll catch Stephen Poliakoff and Jacqueline Bisset.
(By the way, I meant to ask, but forgot. What the hell are they building next to the SECC and the Armadillo?)
Quandary
Life imitates art, and sometimes it’s not funny. I’m just setting out on Bob Skinner’slatest journey and last night I had occasion to dump a body, as frequently I do, in the vicinity of Edinburgh. After some thought I decided that it would be found washed up on Cramond Island. For those who don’t know it, or of it, the island is very small. Indeed it barely qualifies as an island at all, as it can be reached on foot at low tide, via a causeway. I pondered for some time before making my choice. The currents in the Forth are complicated, and it’s a big estuary. Was it feasible for a cadaver to end up there, or did it beggar belief? I wasn’t sure, but I went ahead and wrote the chapter, knowing that I had plenty of time to think better of it and relocate.
This afternoon, I was driving home from a very enjoyable chat with Fred Macaulay on his Radio Scotland show, when the Radio Forth news headlines came on air. When I heard the second item I almost drove off the road. Some poor person, God rest him, had indeed been washed up on Cramond Island.
What am I going to do? I don’t know. Why am I posting this? Possibly as a record, to make it clear when the book is published, in around eighteen months, that I’m not taking advantage of someone’s tragedy. Tough call.
Hi Fred
For those morning radio listeners among you, I’m guesting tomorrow on Fred Macaulay’s daily show on BBC Radio Scotland. The schedule has me on air just after 11:30 hrs, GMT. In Scotland you can pick it up on FM, DAB etc. Globally it should be available on line.
Quote of the day
‘The desire to write grows with writing.’
Desiderius Erasmus
You were kidding yourself, Desi.
Gillian Dickinson
Why would anyone want to add salt to coffee? Why not? My Grandma Bell did, and she was not one to be questioned. She also put pepper on her strawberries.
Go now
Another Scottish Review belter from the keyboard of Kenneth Roy.
New boy
Congratulations, Maria and Oscar, and welcome Sam. Hey, Zoe; you’ve got company.
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