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admin 17.03.2015

Rock legend Knopfler’s classic song Going Home, will feature as the background music   in an emotional  TV advertising campaign. Mark Knopfler best known as  that founding member,  lead guitarist, vocalist, and songwriter for the legendary  rock band Dire Straits, is going back to his Scottish roots when one of his classic compositions will be the focal point of a TV commercial, promoting this year’s  Edinburgh Military Tattoo.
Knopfler’s song, ‘Going Home’  will be the background music  for the advert, whilst a  series of excerpts from the highly spectacular military tattoo  clips from the hugely popular annual event which  takes place on the world famous esplanade within  Edinburgh Castle, perched high overlooking the city itself.
Going Home was  the theme tune from “Local Hero”  a  1983 film, which was shot almost entirely in Scotland, and is even more appropriate as this year’s Edinburgh Military Tattoo, the 65th in the series, is based around the theme of ‘ Our Home Friends and Family’.
Announcing Knopfler’s not entirely unexpected decision to lend  his considerable   musical talents to advertizing this year’s campaign was Brigadier David Allfrey MBE, Chief Executive and Producer  of the Edinburgh Military Tattoo, who lauded the former Glaswegian for agreeing to support the Tattoo’s  Year of Homecoming activities. Brigadier Allfrey went on to express his hope that by including such a well loved song from an equally well loved movie, depicting all of the finer aspects of life in the country, will  help to  further strengthen links with the tens  of thousands of people who visit  Scotland every year, many of them specially to visit Edinburgh during the three plus weeks that the Tattoo is running, as well as to take in  the Edinburgh Festival that runs during the same period.
Confirming his pleasure in being able to take part in the 2014 campaign to market the attractions of the Edinburgh Military Tattoo, Mark wen on to point out that his  links with the Royal Scots Dragoon Guards goes back many years and I’m delighted that ‘Going Home’ is to be associated with the 2014 Edinburgh Tattoo. Mark Knopfler is ranked 27th  in the list of 100 Greatest Guitarists of All Time, by the  Rolling Stone magazine,  and has  sold in excess of 120 million albums in his career to date, either as a solo artist or with  Dire Straits. Mark has been the a recipient of a number of awards relating to his career in music, among them an Ivor Novello Award, as well as being holding   three  separate honorary doctorate degrees in music from universities in the United Kingdom.
Mark Knopfler was born  in Glasgow, Scotland, to an English mother, Louisa Mary, and a Hungarian father, Erwin, who managed to  flee from his native Hungary before the ravages of the Holocaust. In addition to his work with Dire Straits and as a solo artist and composer, Knopfler has recorded and performed with many prominent musicians, as well as  producing  albums for musical legends Tina Turner, Bob Dylan and Randy Newman among a number of others.
Pollock Halls was also the location for many of the performers of the Tattoo, so during breakfast and evening dinner we often found ourselves sitting amongst an eclectic mix of the Tasmanian Police, the Shetland Fiddlers, dancers from Malaysia and the Maori’s from New Zealand, army musicians from Trinidad and Singapore, ngobamakhosi Zulu dancers, the Canadian highland players and many more! We were privileged to have witnessed a performance of The Tattoo which was memorising, captivating and very emotional. Those with Scottish blood would fail to get moved by the site of a Highland band marching to the wonderful sound of bag-pipes.
We even managed to get a photo of my god-son, Owen, with Pony Major Corporal Mark Wilkinson who, under his watchful eye, is in charge of training up the Royal Regiment of Scotland’s mascot, a three year old Shetland Pony that goes by the name of Cruachan IV.
FacebookJoin us on Facebook and keep up to date on all Creative Chiropractic news and current offers. Jazz Tattoo Edinburgh,located in the city center,close to the Grassmarket and Edinburgh Castle is up for sale.
A few days ago I took a black and white photograph of a swan on the Union Canal, close to my home in Edinburgh. Set across two time periods, the near-future, around the early 2020s, and we meet a young woman in a trailer park in the South of America, Flynne. Flynne, like most of the population, has to be on the look our for ways to make a living – sure there is a military pension for her brother but the cost of living keeps going up and keeping food on the table and a roof over the head is increasingly expensive, while employment opportunities grow scarcer, their small town drying up, shops closing, only a few chain conglomerates still in business, apart from a few local enterprises which operate frequently in the grey area between the legitimate economy (if you can call it that in this corrupt future) and the dark economy.
And this is where the second main element of Peripheral comes in, almost a century further down the timeline from Flynne’s era, in a sparsely populated world following an event, an odd version of London, parts of it new but parts of it recognisable to us, but somehow different.
The Remembrance Garden is open in Princes Street Gardens, serried rows of small crosses and poppies lined up in silent regiments around the enormous pillars of the Scott Monument. The smaller crosses are made for people to leave personal messages on – families of the fallen, old comrades and friends, some from conflicts long gone, a relative fallen at Arnhem in WWII, but not forgotten. A reminder, if any ever was needed that behind Big Historical Events, behind the bloody-handed politicians who make the decisions but never risk their life or that of their own, always someone else’s son or daughter or husband or wife, behind all the media pundits and their endless analysis filling the 24-hour rolling news discussions, behind all of that, individuals, ordinary people, taken from those who loved them, leaving them behind with a hole in their lives, in their hearts, a grievous wound that they will carry all the rest of their days, those left behind as wounded in their own way as any harmed on a battlefield.
Guardian cartoonist Nick Hayes made his graphic novel debut a couple of years ago with the intriguing – not to mention large – Rime of the Modern Mariner, an interesting contemporary riff on the classic Coleridge poem with a strong ecological message and some amazing artwork and use of pacing and rhythm.


The art is mostly in a mixture of browns and coppers and beiges, recalling an old sepia photograph, and very stylised, sometimes Woody and other characters looking fairly cartoony, in other scenes the artwork looks almost like an old woodcut, and it ranges from depicting the miserable suffering of the twin economic and ecological disaster of the Dust Bowl and Depression, or the desperation of the shanty towns in and around most large American cities full of the poor looking for work that just wasn’t there, in their ‘Hoovertowns’, named after the president on whose watch these disasters happened (the shanty towns contrasting with the new gleaming skyscrapers making their early appearance on the skyline). It’s scenes we know from Steinbeck and the Grapes of Wrath and a thousand photographs, but here Hayes works it directly into how Woody is shaped, passing through all of this, seeing men like his father go from respected, well-off successful businessman to menial work just to hold his head above water, and knowing that was better than millions could manage. But this isn’t just a walk through the horribly dust-blown suffering of those who lost everything, who tried to believe in the American Dream, that they could always move on, start again, make something of themselves then, by the million, often through no fault of their own, because of powers beyond them that could ruin their lives from afar, finding themselves destitute. And among these traditions, songs: the shared common folk-songs, rarely written down, passed along, known by all, the communal cultural heritage of the many, telling of their own times and those of their predecessors. Into this political-financial-ecological time of disaster Hayes also weaves a much more fantastical element, contrasting the lines closing off tracts of that vast continent, both the physical lines of fences (no trespassing, private property, keep out) or the ones on paper (bank records, congratulations, you’ve bought all this land and can do what you want, eject who you want).
It’s about history, it’s about the exploitation of the many by the small elite, it’s about financial and ecological disasters and how the two are often entwined, but it is also about the music and the people, and how you can’t separate the two, how the music is made by the people but it is also a part of them and shapes them, their sense of who they are, where they came from, giving them strength to struggle on, inspire them, keep them going, tell their story. HMAS Huon's Ship's Company mark the 226th anniversary of the founding of Lord Howe Island with a parade and ceremony at the Island's Cenotaph. Noting this auspicious occasion, the Ship’s Company of Huon marched down the main street to the Cenotaph in front of an impressive crowd of over 150 people. HMAS Huon's Ship's Company visit the Lord Howe Island Central School and hand out Royal Australian Navy show bags to the students.During their transit from New Zealand to Lord Howe Island, Huon also had the opportunity to visit the magnificent structure known as Ball’s Pyramid, which protrudes 552 meters out of the ocean and forms the world’s tallest volcanic stack. Tim started tattooing while studying Fine Art and has recently been awarded his MFA from the Glasgow School of Art where he also teaches evening classes in drawing and painting. Mark of Perun inner forearm, Local Place called Anchor’s End Tattoo Duluth, MN by Andy (Last name unknown). I’ve taken plenty of shots along the canal, including many of the swans, ducks and other wildlife that enjoy the waters, but this one, for some reason, has proved to be incredibly popular on Flickr. In the last decade and a half though Gibson has moved away from science fiction to a fair extent, but his writing has remained fascinating, his technique sharper each time but his ability to craft a wonderfully descriptive line (such as the quote above) in one sentence where other writers may take half a paragraph of descriptive text remains, and he remains laser-sharp in tapping into elements of today’s society, morals and tech. This is the world after an event known as The Jackpot, the human race hugely reduced in number after this event – or really a series of events, a rapidly accelerating downward spiral of various disasters, some natural, many problems we are all to aware of right now, problems of our own making, allowed to run rampant, no one single event or disaster, just one after the other, like a war of attrition oh humanity.
And this is where it becomes even more interesting, as we find out Wilf’s rich oligarch friend has been playing a new game.
Absolutely compelling return to science fiction by Gibson, I already know this will be one of my Best of the Year picks. This, his second full-length work, follows Woody Guthrie, arguably one of the most famous and influential folk musicians of the last century, and a lasting influence on many later artists (not least Bob Dylan), but this is no straightforward biography told in comics form.
No work, mass unemployment, homes and farms being foreclosed on by banks which themselves had overstretched and failed helping to create the crisis in the first place then blaming their customers for not being able to repay those mortgages and loans. While Hayes does show this suffering and desperation and how it fuels Woody’s lifelong rage at social inequality and injustice, he shows hope, he shows traditions, many brought over from the old countries, this being the early part of the 20th century when many Americans were only a generation or two off the immigration boat. Woody takes these, fascinated by the stories they told, the way the songs gave voice to a poor mass of the population that would otherwise be silent, preserving their sense of identity and culture in the face of all disasters (a history for those who don’t usually get to write their own histories, preserved instead in ballads shared among the community, generation to generation) and offering little moments of joy in the misery, all singing and dancing in a local hall, troubles forgotten for a night.
Hayes contrasts this with that great Westward Expansion dream that powered the previous century in the US, the seemingly endless land to be exploited (until it is over-exploited, as with the Great Plains, ancient ecology ruined without thought leading to Biblical levels of disaster) and the horizon forever free, and those astonishing landscapes, from the Great Plains to the stunning deserts.
A beautiful work, beautifully executed, with enormous relevance to our own very troubled times. This day marks the moment when Lieutenant Henry Ligbird Ball and members of the Ship’s Company of HMS Supply founded the island 226 years ago.
Several island officials and the Commanding Officer took the opportunity to speak before laying a wreath to commemorate the day. It was a truly humbling experience, and members took the opportunity to photograph the epic vertical structure.


Most of his tattoo pieces are his own creations, preferring delicately graceful flowing work that compliments individual body shape such as organic or floral compositions.
A simple shot, last hour of daylight (sun setting so early this time of year) giving some great reflections, and a swan which instead of paddling along was drifting, slowly, as if gently dozing, or perhaps lost in admiring its own reflection.
Now with his return to full-on science fiction I am delighted to say those skills has sharpened in the likes of his less-SF works like the Blue Ant series remain pin-sharp, an intriguing story, beautifully paced, mixed with his laconic descriptive style and superbly accurate observations of problems we are facing today and tomorrow in the real world, transposed into his future setting. Burton, with his tech enhanced skills from his Marines days also makes some extra money on the side checking out beta versions of new software and games for corporate clients. This sparsely populated future London was recreated mostly by nano assemblers and the main humans left are descendants of the hugely rich oligarchs, like the Russian billionaires who buy up huge sections of the wealthiest parts of London today then extend their properties underground, Gibson again taking a far future but lacing it with elements of the way things are already recognisably going in our own day and age. Not exactly the game Flynne thought she was testing – in fact his new hobby is like a strategy game, building your own world of resources and planning, a Civilisation style game, perhaps. No, what Hayes does here is more interesting than a straight biographical narrative – this is about the man, yes, but it is even more about the events and times that made him and shaped the music he sang throughout the land, criss-crossing the vast landscape of America, riding the box-cars with hoboes and with men seeking any place that had work and the promise of a better life during the heart of the Depression. It all has far too much resonance to our own troubled times since the global financial meltdown, caused, ironically, in part by a lifting of the regulations on banks and finance that were brought in after this Great Depression to stop it happening again.
He shows the ‘patriotic’ songs of the period, which strangely enough tend to be popular with those who have done well out of the system, grasping at everything to make it turn a dollar, the 1920s and 30s version of the “1%”, even the land commodified. Lieutenant Commander Jace Hutchison, Huon’s Commanding Officer, said it was a great opportunity for Huon to continue the strong relationship the Royal Australian Navy has with Lord Howe Island.“We are extremely proud to be able to represent the Royal Australian Navy here on this special occasion and look forward to contributing to the fantastic history the Navy has had with Lord Howe Island since 1788,” he said. I lined up to fit in both swan and reflection and took a pic, posted it up one evening last week, to discover by the next evening, less than twenty hours later, it had received over six thousand views.
Of course commenting on today’s problems using a futuristic setting is something good science fiction has done forever, but Gibson does it so much better (and with so much style) that most. When he needs to be elsewhere (basically heading to nearby towns to tussle with a religious-political group he can’t stand) he asks Flynne to stand in for him and run his shift on what both think is testing out parts of a new game.
A tense race soon develops, which draws in an enigmatic London detective, who is clearly much more than a police officer, and while the timelines may be separate, they are parallel and it’s not hard for those in each period to see events of their own timelines being mirrored in the other, but must everything play out one way or can they determine their own possible future?
And out of those he starts to fashion his most famous song, “this land is your land, this land is my land…”, both song and book contrasting the promise, the dream of that astonishing, vast, continent with all its resources and space, everyone on a seemingly equal footing, except of course they’re not, there are always the smaller groups who control it all, but the dream of that freedom to be and do what you want and to make something of yourself is still there.
Prior to their visit to Lord Howe Island, HMAS Huon had participated in the major regional exercise Western Pacific Naval Symposium held in Auckland, New Zealand, in company with HMAS Gascoyne. And it is while remotely operating a flying drone in this virtual city online that Flynne (logged in as Burton) witnesses what looks very much like a real murder, realistic enough to be disturbing (especially for Flynne, who after some too-realistic war gaming for a rich client is sickened of this kind of thing, even if it is virtual).
Gibson neatly avoids this causing any causality problems by the fact that whenever a new game is started it cannot actually be the past of the player’s time, rather it causes a splitting off, a splinter, a different timeline, which they can interact with in the future knowing if they cause any changes it will not affect their own present. This included an excellent exhibition of the Lord Howe Island stick insect which has been brought back from the brink of extinction in recent years. Guess you can never truly predict what people will really like, and I never take a photo with number of views in mind anyway, I take them because I see something interesting, or unusual, or beautiful, and I want to capture a little of it and share it. In effect a parallel reality, something that has been theorised for many years in science, a multiverse where each different course of action leads to its own distinct timeline where each plays out.



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