The latest topical insights from Aberdeen musical sketch comedy team, The Flying Pigs.
Cava Kenny Cordiner, the football pundit who goes in hard early doors
“We’ll be coming! We’ll be coming! We’ll be coming down the road!” What a few days it has been for the Tartan Army, as the National Team defiled the odds and thrashed the footballing heavyweights of Israel and the Fair Isle.
I have to admit, I’d given up the toast when we went behind against the Disraelis. Then they went 2-1 up straight after our equaliser and then Dykers took one of the worst penalties I have ever seen outside of the under-8s league. At that point, I says in a What’sUpp to my pal Dunter Duncan, I says “Israel? is ‘is real?” And he says to me, he says “aye”. He’s got cracking banter has Dunter.
But, unless Croatia is giving them a hiding, Scotland don’t know when they’re beat. So they tied their sleeves, rolled up their laces, pit their faces to the wall and moved forwards, and got the win.
Then, on Tuesday night the lads took the ferry over to the Fair Isle and gave them an absolute doing – with a suspiciously awarded 86th minute winner against the whooping boys of the group.
To be honest, it wizna a great advert for the beautiful game. When you spend most of the 90 minutes texting your mates back and forth asking why the other side’s fans have the Theme fae Tetris as a chant, ye ken it wizna a match for the sages. But I was on cloud 99. I says to Dunter, I says “World Cup here we come!” And he says to me, he says “don’t get carried away Kenny. World Cup PLAYOFF here we come”. And then, with the help of a spreadsheet, a slide rule and an abacus, he explained the playoff situation to me.
It’s the hype that kills you!
J Fergus Lamont, arts critic + author of ‘ “He ain’t heavy, he’s my statue” – an account of celebration of the life of Dennis Law’
Huzzah! You find me today with a spring in my step, having been thoroughly impressed by the latest jewel in Aberdeen’s artistic renaissance. I speak of course of the re-vitalised and re-energised Provost Skene’s House. You won’t have heard of it, as it has had little or no publicity, but it has been superbly modernised by radical art collective The Aberdeen City Council and is now re-opened once more after a delay of only a few short years.
As soon as I heard this I headed straight there, but found it empty and abandoned; a powerful emptiness giving one a sense of the modern world’s ignorance of history. Then I realised I had inadvertently gone to the wrong place, and I was actually in Thomas Glover’s House.
Upon realising my error, I headed for the centre of town, and discovered a wonderful location, still historical outside but tastefully modernised within, and emerged after several hours fully rested with a much-needed hair cut and pedicure. Then I realised I had inadvertently gone to the wrong place again, and I had just visited James Dunn’s House.
Marvelling at the preponderance of historical Houses in the city, and all the way reflecting on the fact that my nails – adorned as they now are in tiger-print acrylic – have never been so fabulous, I eventually found my way to Provost Skene’s House. This was not easy, since it was hidden behind and amongst a much larger building that has been wrapped around it like a cravat around a neck. But once found, and once within, a stunning transformation was revealed!
When finally in the right place, I immediately recalled what had always been heralded as a highpoint of a visit when last the House was open – the iconic Tea Room. Oh the happy memories that flooded back, of tucking into a nice scone in an authentic 1545 dungeon atmosphere! I was delighted to find the room remained, complete with the glass panel in the floor – but the Tea Room has been given a minimalist aesthetic, as they have removed all the tables and chairs. Instead, there is moody blue lighting, a bank of hi-tech monitors and a row of blank white busts lining the walls, like a cross between the Korova Milk Bar in Kubrick’s A Clockwork Orange and vacant BHS window. No fellow diners were in evidence, but there was a riot of noise spilling out from each bust as I passed, a chaotic and powerful cacophony where Annie Lennox mixed with Stuart MacBride and Buff Hardie all at the same time, like a peculiarly Aberdonian Beastie Boys. Stunning.
No cup of tea forthcoming, I moved on, finding myself in a fascinating display devoted to local Sporting Champions, and then successive rooms all containing interactive features spotlighting areas of local innovation, squeezed into small 16th Century rooms from which all original period furnishings had been removed. It spoke powerfully to me of how incongruous different historical periods can seem when smashed up against each other in very close proximity, a contrast accentuated by the great muckle 21st Century office block mere inches away outside. I wept.
Read more by The Flying Pigs:
- William Shatner is about to become a real space floater
- Eels in Glastonbury have started dancing like Michael Gove
- Why is the government letting a load of Covid vaccines go off in the back of the fridge?