FROM the twisted forms that emerge from the dregs of artificial intelligence to the oldest folk tales, the apparition of a not quite human face is one of those universal horrors.
IN 2009, the island of Berneray made headlines when it transpired that a photograph of the pristine sands and blue waters of the island’s West Beach was being used to promote holidays in Thailand.
IN March 2007 I attended a march and rally in support of Scottish independence at Holyrood.
ARNOLD Kemp’s personal history of post-war Scotland, The Hollow Drum, contains an evocative passage in which the author, then deputy editor of The Scotsman, explores the labyrinthine corridors of the paper’s North Bridge premises: “I wandered through a forgotten entrance into the staircase of the surplus property next door. A disused lift shaft disappeared into the gloom above. There was dust everywhere and the marble tiles on the stair wall were grimy. I felt like a time traveller.”
ON Thursday morning an iconic feature of Scotland’s landscape disappeared forever.
PROFESSOR Lindsay Paterson argues that the relative stability of the Union in the 19th century was underpinned by a gendered understanding of society.
WHEN delegates convene for COP26 next week they will do so in a city that is still, despite the best efforts of planners and developers, defined by buildings more than a century old.
ON crossing the border at Deadwater into Scotland the signage is surprisingly dull. Scottish Borders and the Forestry Commission offer a muted welcome in fonts that resemble Comic Sans.
IF, like me, you’ve visited New York on the cheap, you may be aware that the Waldorf Astoria contains a Starbucks in its lobby – thereby allowing pretty much anyone to wander in off the street and loiter amid its Gilded Age splendour.
THE story of modern Scotland is the story of oil. The story of oil is, increasingly, the story of how a very small number of individuals enriched themselves at the expense of the entire planet.
