The castle on the rock is so strongly grounded, bounded, and founded, that by force of man it can never be confounded; the foundation and walls are unpenetrable, the rampiers impregnable, the bulwarks invincible no way but one to it is or can be possible to be made passable. – John Taylor 1618

The final chapter of my European caper comes to it’s conclusion as I mingled amongst the weirdos within the once industrial epicenter of Edinburgh.

Reduce

The number of monuments and statues must be brought under control immediately. It was clear during my many perusals through the downtown core than they were likely reproducing and would soon reach pandemic populations. How is it that regular anybodies with names like Adam Smith, Bobby the Bruce or Billy Wallace can get immortalized? It won’t be long before Edinburgh’s demographics will be overtaken by bronze skinned bastards who want nothing more to stand uncomfortably and gaze at you as if constipated. Someone needs to pull a highlander and give some of these guys a good beheading. There can only be one.

The superficially pretencious restraunteurs that act as despots in their little domains. They seek only those hip and stylish enough to admit into their joints. Yes the dishes they offer might be delicious and reasonably priced, the service might be knowledgeable and flamboyant, but make no mistake, these cretinous villains feast on your acceptance of these facts and use it to fuel their own delusions. I would feel far more comfortable about them if they were replaced with…oh…say..the Swedish Chef.

Reuse

Does the place where you live have beautiful rolling green hills a plenty? When speaking comparatively to Edinburgh, only a true sycophant could answer in the affirmative. I can imagine even Elysium being green with envy of the undulating jade mounds that encircle the city and keep it within the warmth of their bosom. Using the fine example set here, the eminent domain and destruction of a few subdivisions followed by the cultivation of seas of grass could do many a North American city well.

The use of bridges throughout the city is unrivaled in their ability to surprise. Often times you’re standing on a bridge and you won’t even know it. Sometimes you’ll think you’re on a bridge when in reality you’ve simply drank too much Glenmorangie. This is the magic of the bridges of Edinburgh.  My ability to convey the way they cut through the urban fabric and create three dimensional spaces through the medium of text is akin to Hawkins explaining hadrons to a kindergarten class.

Another feature of Edinburgh I liked was how they had all kinds of wee places that had names and were somehow historical. I’d be walking inadvertently through a grimy tunnel and I’d notice a sign saying that it was “MacDuff’s Passage” and it would go on to explain how in 1548 some guy used to smuggle donkeys through there, or smoke crack or something. There were all kinds of nooks and crannies like this in the old town.

Recycle

Mike Myers had me believing that Scottish people all talked like the dad in So I Married An Axe Murderer. Much to my chagrin that was not the case.

Lack at tha size of thaht boys heid. Ahm not keiddin it’s leik ahn orrange on ah touthpaick. Shhhh you’re gonna give the boy a complex. Well thats ah hüge nohggin! It’s ah verchüel plahnetoid. It has its oüwn wetha system! Heid moüve!

I believe it should be made an imperative and unalienable objective of the Scottish Parliament to ensure by an act of legislature that everyone talks like this, if only for the benefit of those who think that’s how they really talk. (IE. Me)

Incinerate

My first suggestion was to incinerate the weather, but I think the Edinburghers might run into some trouble with that task, so I’ll fall back to two things everyone can agree on. Incinerate might be too soft a term for these two structures, so obliterate might be more apropos. The National Museum of Scotland is a bland Corbusian beast that would be better suited for the test site of Operation Castle. Even Prince Charles pulled out of the project once he found out what it was going to look like, and look at his taste, he married that zombie Camilla for godsakes.

The other building that’s gotta go, is the Hotel Missoni at the corner of George IV Bridge and the Royal Mile. The cardboard box look-alike is totally out of context. They could have at least come up with a Scottish name for it to save some scorn. That’s globalization for you. I’ve read some architectural articles about it, and it amazes me how people are deluding themselves in its defence. I realize that putting up a new building in a UNESCO world heritage site is no trivial matter, but how hard is it to build something with the fine details and textures of the older buildings while adding a few modern features? Instead we get a bland rectangular prism, that might be passable in some suburban office park, but looks like a soggy box of Shreddies compared to its neighbors. Anyone know how to bait an asteroid? We can make it look like an accident...I promise.

After Edinburgh, my wonderful two week city skip through Europe came to its end, and hence this series with it. Which is just as well really, as now I can focus on getting ready to scam my way back into the Far East with haste.

Filed under: tourist shit