Cullen Skink

November 4, 2009

Bagging blethers

Filed under: Bagging Scotland, CullenSkink, Scotland the best — admin @ 10:41 pm

Bagging-Scotland planning continues and our ace designer Ramsay’s pulling-together a presentation for a number of potential ‘In Association With’ sponsors. Putting an exact ‘number’ on how much this jolly excellent opportunity is worth is a toughie because we’ve not got a ‘model’ to base it on. However, we’ve taken a researched and educated gues at…well, there’s no way I’m telling you here. Big thanks to my clever PR chum Pete Sigrist at Fishburn Hedges, who offered me some very good advice in this area. I rip the pish out of Mr Sigrist as he’s stupidly posh but he’s a clever chap and goes out of his way to help you. As he’s busy and as he offers this advice for nowt, I value him greatly and he’s a great geezer but I am too shy to tell him. Hope to hell he doesnae read this!

Today, I also met-up with the GMF Co people, who happen to be based in Glasgow’s Lighthouse. Fucking hypocrite that I am, I was in there today and managed to avoid the snipers. It was completely, utterly dead, so I stand by every comment I made in ‘that blog’ where a number of people suggested I “ken fuck-all aboot fuck-all”.

Anyway, in spite of biding in a ghost building, I really liked their style and think they’d be interesting to build relationships with because they’ve got a broad experience. They also seem to be up-for-the-cup. However, I was rather sparkled today, so probably came across like a manic loon.

As they work on the Tiree Wave Classic,  they ‘get’ islands, so we’ll see. I’d like to do something with them, anyway. I’ll call them and ask if they can help with sponsorship. I alluded to this but alluding to things is a bit daft. As from today, I’m being a LOT more direct!

October 30, 2009

A Hallow’een story for kids…

Filed under: Scotland the best — admin @ 6:37 pm

 spookycolourspv

The Secret behind Barney’s Boulder…

Barney the forest goblin was the ancient legend of Carbeth. For many years, most people thought he was just a scary story, made-up to frighten children and tell them of the dangers that can lurk, in the cold, dark Carbeth woods.

The legend of Barney the evil Goblin was thus: Barney Broon was once a normal schoolboy who went to school, just like any normal kid. But when Barney became 10 years of age, strange things began to happen to him. He changed, horribly. He became horribly disfigured and troll like and a strange evil began to lurk within him.

Soon, he became quite unlike any other boy in Strathblane. By the time he has 12, the other children became so scared of him that his frightened parents disowned him. One day, he left after a furious row ended in his house being burned to the ground. He began a long, lonely hermit’s existence, in the deepest valleys of the Scottish hills.

Soon, Barney had learned to live in the wild, like an animal. He gorged on raw venison liver and wood pigeon, and lived primordially, in a huge, deep, undiscovered cave. Barney slept in a rough, bracken nest, lined with deerskin and owl’s feathers and lived a nocturnal existence.

He’d never been seen, simply because he lived, hunted and eked-out his weird and lonely existence but always under cover of darkness.

Eventually, he developed into an adult, but he grew to only three feet tall, However, he was also three feet wide. He had the strength of four and a half horses and thick, wiry hair covered his whole body and reached right down to the ground. It was unnaturally strong, like steel hawser and on contact with other human skin it would cut it badly, which explained why he couldn’t live with ‘normal’ humans. His teeth had developed into ugly, yellow fangs and his long, gnarled fingernails were so strong, and he could carve terrible and horrible pictures directly, into the stone walls of the cave. Barney lived by the light of one tiny, dim, evil-smelling candle, made from wood-pigeon-fat.

So, that was it, simply a local legend, that was…until 100 years ago when strangely and very disturbingly, local babies and the babies of the very first Carbeth Hutters started to go missing…

As people were to find out, many years later, Barney was very, very real, because it was him, A VERY REAL Barney who was taking the children.

So how was he able to do it, so close to Glasgow and right under the noses of so many people? His secret was simple. His horrible mutation meant as well as being immensely strong and squat, Barney could also see clearly, even on the darkest, blackest night. After midnight, he’d ride swiftly and silently for mile after mile through the woods, on the back of a freakish, giant, albino stag, which he’d bred, especially for its unnatural stamina and its ability to also see in the dark.

At night, whilst the hutters slept, Barney would ride round on his white stag, capturing children from the dark, slumbering site. He’d gag the screaming children, hang them off the antlers of his mount and ride off to his secret cave, deep in the Campsie hills.

He’d hold them captive in his cold, dank, stone prison. The secret was kept for decades, hidden deep in the pines, behind a massive lump of ancient Scottish stone, which we now know as ‘Barney’s Boulder’.

The captured babies grew into children, fed on a horrid diet of strange-shaped mushrooms, rabbit’s ears, sour berries and cold, dead frogs. The bedraggled, hungry, scared and filthy children would only have one treat, every year. On Michaelmas morning, Barney would roast whole hedgehogs on pointed sticks, over a dismal, meagre, peat fire. All the children could have a tiny roasted hedgehog leg, washed down with acrid, rowanberry gravy. Some children went very hungry…

For years, the growing band of cold, straggly and unkempt children remained, hidden, behind Barney’s massive boulder but one day, they decided they had to do something.  As they had now remained hidden in the secret Campsie cavern for many years, even the small babies had grown into children and were becoming bigger and stronger. As they’d all been taken from their homes as babies, they hadn’t learned to speak English but they’d developed their own language strange language, like a primeval Gaelic, which Barney couldn’t understand. It allowed them to plan, in secret, when Barney went on one of his eerie, midnight forest or frozen, hilltop rides.

Slowly, the children began to plan their escape… over the months and years they managed to weave some of the remnants of Barney’s unnatural steely hair which littered the fetid cave, into a strong cable-like rope. One frosty and moonless night, when Barney was riding out, with a joint and an almost superhuman effort, the small, dirty, dishevelled but very courageous children managed to fashion a crude sling and began to move the giant mass of Barney’s Boulder. Slowly, it groaned and the surrounding branches bent and creaked but after hours of work and a lot of skinned knuckles and tears, they were free! Cold, fresh mountain air poured into the entrance of the deep cave and as the pathetic peat fire burst into life, the children could hug each other and laugh properly, for the first time ever.

Time was short though and after the initial excitement, it was time for action. The brave kids knew that even if they ran away, and made it onto the moors, Barney would come looking for them and his amazing night vision would mean he would easily be able to hunt them down, like scared wild rabbits!

They had to stop him, forever…

Barney soon returned from his spooky night gallop and returned with a bracken bag of cold, dead frogs for the children to scavenge. However, as Barney leapt from his giant, white Monarch of the Glen, he could clearly see, even in the dead of night, that Barney’s Boulder, the thing that had kept his twisted secret safe for so many years, was gone. Barney’s boulder was missing and the eerie, black cave, for so long the pathetic home to a growing band of straggling and frightened feral children, was empty.

Now that Barney had noticed his behemoth of a boulder was missing and his empty cave was open, for all to see he got desperate and it was only by using his superhuman sight, he could see the large boulder now sat at the very top of the hill. How it got there he didn’t know but Barney moved quickly, he was determined to get the boulder back to keep his horrific secret in place and then…find and extract his terrible, terrible revenge and find the band of his captive but now escaped, children.

Barney started his strange, gangling stride up the hill to retrieve the gigantic cave blocking boulder which, until this black evening, only HE had ever had the superhuman strength to be able to move….however, he was never to get there. Hiding behind the boulder, after completing an amazing effort to haul the giant stone up the mountainside, were his former captives, the children, by now enriched by the air and spiritually uplifted by their new-found freedom, they were even more determined to extract their terrible revenge on him and it made them stronger and more determined than ever!

Using all their combined weight, and gaining strength from breathing cold, fresh Scottish mountain air, after years of living in fetid dank cave atmosphere, all the children heaved, and pushed and rolled the lumpen boulder down the steep brae.

Barney ran but he was too slow, the boulder quickly gained unstoppable momentum. Ten seconds later and ten years later for the children, his terrible reign of terror was over. In the dark ,the children could see nothing but The grinding of ancient stone against ancient stone and a cacophony of breaking branches meant the massive obelisk was gaining speed as it rumbled quickly down the mountain.

Suddenly, a blood-curdling roar, followed by a high pitched scream filled the valley.

Barney the Goblin was dead, horribly, squashed like a fleeting mayfly, against the walls of his cavernous and poisonous prison. His tryrannical rule over a frightened bunch of ten year olds was over!

Barney was crushed flat. So much so that the hole dug for his grave was only required to be one centimetre thick.

And that’s where the story ends. The children returned, to tears and smiles, to learn all the things they’d missed, mince and tatties, Playstations , the X Factor, all the things all other boys and girls take for granted.

Barney’s grave is covered by a smaller, ‘Barney’s Boulder’ which still stands at Carbeth to this very day. It’s there to make sure no-one ever forgets the strange tale and the dark days, when Barney the Goblin stalked the Campsie Glens and the Carbeth woods…

 

October 28, 2009

Scotland’s second age of enlightenment?

Filed under: Bagging Scotland, CullenSkink, Scotland the best — admin @ 1:08 am

There’s been loads of stuff on the box just now about the part that Scotland played in forming the modern world. It’s amazing really but in the fields of medicine, heavy industry and in inventing a lot of the modern’ building blocks’ of things we take for granted; television, bicycles, video, telephone,( there’s a massive list that a quick Google search will reveal) we’ve led the world.

It’s easy to eulogise about this and suggest we’re outrageously clever, ‘punch above our weight’ a nation of geniuses etc etc. This might be a tiny bit true but in reality, we were actually victims of circumstance, caught up in neccesity having to truly be ‘the mother of invention’. In essence, loads of factors came together-raw materials, money, a hugely increasing Global Marketplace-to give us no real opportunity but to throw lots of money in solving problems. Of course, there were clever people that capitalised on this but we’d created a ‘perfect storm’ for ideas generation, capitalisation, ‘research and development’ and finally, taking it to a massive market, which the British Empire had created.

It’s a bit different today but as a proud Scot, who’s striving to create my own wee success story, I think the opportunites are out there but it needs a lot more, if not perfect storms, lots of mini squalls, to make things happen. I’m beginning to have a bit of success in getting people to have some faith in my www.bagging-scotland.com project but one thing is clear, I’ve had the most ‘luck’, inspiration, guidance, knowledge transfer and faith when I’ve been meeting people, asking them things and gaining advice, sometimes from some really unlikely sources.

I’ve been really suspicious of ’self-help’ books but I HAVE found that there are a number of ‘mini Scottish squalls’ which have been created on the internet and I’ve really benefitted from them. Also, if there’s been ‘the opening of an envelope’ in Glasgow recently, I’ve gone along, met people and tried to help them and they’ve helped me!

This isn’t the beginning of a ‘my experiences’ load of old bollocks on my blog but it’s good to know that there are a number of people out there who will help you. You just need to do a very un-Scottish thing-and ask.

You don’t have to be particularly ‘enlightened’ to realise that in Scotland, we don’t make or invent things quite as much as we did 150 years ago. We also are not in the extremely fortunate position of having a f*ck-off, huge, Global marketplace that we erm…owned (I suppose feudalism, slavery and genocide help here, a bit) so we need to think differently. That thought process has to involve asking for help and ‘bouncing-off’ ideas. I think we’re undoubtedly a clever Nation but you’re living in a slightly deluded land of cloud cuckoo-ism if you don’t think the whole of South East Asia, USA and the Indian subcontinent feel exactly the same way about themselves.

So, some quite, self confidence but let’s get the creators of Scotland, in facts Scots of all kinds to become GREAT at meeting people, becausse that’s when the sparks start to fly!

October 24, 2009

Brewdog, how to market Beer

Filed under: Scotland the best, Whisky Bagging — admin @ 11:22 am
Little old ladies, where are you?

Little old ladies, where are you?

Cullenskink attended a piss up, not IN but ORGANISED by a brewery last week, in the centre of Edinburgh’s old Town. You hear the expression ‘Setting the heather on fire’ used a bit in Scotland to suggest someone’s being a bit dynamic. It’s a perfect expression to describe what the Brewdog dudes are doing.

They’re ripping-up the rulebook and doing EVERYTHING in a very ‘up-yours’ sort of way. They’re much more than crazy ‘Mavericks’ though. Their latest idea, ‘Equity for Punks‘ involves offering-up thousands of ‘mini equity shares’ in the company, so if you’re a normal punter in the street who likes a pint of Brewdog, for a couple of hundred quid, you can buy equity in your favourite beer firm! At first, it reminded us of a bit in the movie The Producers, where Max Bealistock sells thousands of percent of the shares for their show Springtime for Hitler to a number of little old ladies!

It’s a brilliant idea, a chance to become an equity holder (albeit a very minority one) in a funky brewer! We really hope it works because it ties-in exactly with their ethos. We also met their new Director Keith Greggor, who’s got the experience (and the sufficient gravitas and clout, along with a few quid no doubt)  to enable Brewdog to do great things. We fully expect them to do this.

So why this unashamed plug for Brewdog? Well, we’ve absolutely no axe to grind and we’ve nothing to do with the guys but it’s pretty clear that if every small Scottish company took a few leaves out of the rulebook that these guys are continually ripping up, our Country would be a much more exciting place!

We’ll be unashamedly pinching ideas from them as Bagging Scotland comes to life! Which it is! Exciting times!

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