Skip to main content

Some Scotland Songs.

The amount of love that I have for the UK has not been talked about much lately. But let me tell you, it is great.

So I am writing this in advance, setting it up and letting the internet hit publish while I am somewhere mid-Atlantic, en-route for a ten-day work trip to Glasgow.

I've known for the last six months or so that this song is going to be key to this trip:

It's the lyric "Give me something to believe in, Give me something to believe" that gets me. I'm convinced that this is the way many university students are thinking.

Paolo Nutini is from Glasgow and a fantastic artist. Although, the fact that he never stands up straight or opens his eyes while performing gives him the look of a perpetual stoner. Which is possible.


Over the last week, I've been reminded of how much I love this song:

I really can't do this on my own. And I don't particularly want to. So this is my prayer.


I can't write about Scotland without including this next song. I think it's illegal.

In the fall, I saw Dougie perform live. I blogged about it, and how we each have our own "Caledonia."


Last pick.

Forgive the footage from 1989. Just goes to show how classic this folk tune is...I expect to hear it at least once during the week, either at a pub or the ceilidh.

Comments

  1. Jess Versteeg12:25 PM

    Heather just introduced me to Glasvegas. Check out their song "Geraldine". I think it's pretty appropriate for vision casting, too.

    http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QGOCEOsBE3w

    here's the version with lyrics:
    http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=24b2oeK0vWo

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Simone Weil: On "Forms of the Implicit Love of God"

Simone Weil time again! One of the essays in Waiting for God  is entitled "Forms of the Implicit Love of God." Her main argument is that before a soul has "direct contact" with God, there are three types of love that are implicitly  the love of God, though they seem to have a different explicit  object. That is, in loving X, you are really loving Y. (in this case, Y = God). As for the X of the equation, she lists: Love of neighbor  Love of the beauty of the world  Love of religious practices  and a special sidebar to Friendship “Each has the virtue of a sacrament,” she writes. Each of these loves is something to be respected, honoured, and understood both symbolically and concretely. On each page of this essay, I found myself underlining profound, challenging, and thought-provoking words. There's so much to consider that I've gone back several times, mulling it over and wondering how my life would look if I truly believed even half of these thi...
1 comment
Read more

The ROM, The Earth & Procreation

Disclaimer: This post is intended to generate discussion and a sharing of many opinions. It is NOT intended to judge or condemn anyone's life choices. I had an unexpected moment at the ROM last month. C and I were listening to a presentation for kids on wildlife conservation (or rather, I was listening, and C was eagerly anticipating what live animal would come out next), when a statement caught my attention and still hasn't let go. For most of history, the earth could provide enough resources for the earth's human population. But today, our population is growing rapidly, increasing by 250 000 people every day... Forty years from now, it will require 2 Earths to provide sustainably for our survival as a human species. But we only have 1 Earth. 250 000 people. Every day. That is roughly twice the size of my hometown. In one day. So I did a little math. (First, I rounded down to 200 000, just in case the figures were inflated or failed to account for some sort o...
27 comments
Read more

Esse - Czeslaw Milosz

I'm on a bit of a poetry binge this week, and Monday afternoon found me lying on the luxurious shag rug of a friend's tiny apartment, re-reading some of my favourite poets (ee cummings, William Carlos Williams, Czeslaw Milosz). It is an adventure to re-open a collection and wonder what will pop out, knowing something you've read before will strike you afresh, or you will be reminded of a particularly moving line that you had somehow forgotten. Like this piece from Milosz, which floors me. Every. damn.* time. The first time I read it, I lay in a park with a friend (this same friend who offered me her rug as my reading burrow) and demanded that I share it with her. I spoke it carefully, and then, into the post-reading silence, I slammed the book shut, and dropped it as loudly as I could onto the grass. "I'm never reading anything again," I declared, "What else is there to say?" Esse I looked at that face, dumbfounded. The lights of métro st...
Post a Comment
Read more