Chris Deerin
Chris Deerin: Lockdown’s unexpected opportunity to discover sense of place and belonging
Chris Deerin: Oi Farage, don’t you dare hitch your nasty far-right crank wagon to the cause of ‘reform’
Chris Deerin: Great songs and books never grow old – but too few tackle the issue
Chris Deerin: Letting children go hungry underlines the Tories’ eternal problem with poverty
Chris Deerin: Tartan diplomacy – Why Scotland needs a proper foreign policy of its own
Chris Deerin: The art of being happy to call out crap, even $39million-worth
Chris Deerin: Farewell to night-time sleep routines as our body clocks spin into new universe
Chris Deerin: Johnson taking tips from Trump to wreak revenger’s fantasy on national institutions
Chris Deerin: Impermeable self-belief of upper class a perilous trait as revolution gathers pace
Chris Deerin: High-voltage jolt of personnel and policy would surely work wonders for Holyrood
Chris Deerin: Huge rise in number of tattoo parlours inspires little else in me but ink-redulity
Chris Deerin: Intoxicated at the thought of maestro Messi saying ‘bye’ to Barca and ‘hello’ to Man City
Chris Deerin: Indyref2 will be no-ref bare-knuckle battle with gouging and below-the-belt punching
Chris Deerin: Enjoying the company of my Excellent Women
Chris Deerin: Whisper it, I’ve quite enjoyed the lockdown
Chris Deerin: 250 years ago music was changed forever
Chris Deerin: In football, as in life, digital bliss is better than grim reality
Chris Deerin: Just for the record – you may have fallen victim to the Fat Cops Curse
Chris Deerin: With age comes the unexpected wisdom that Stock, Aitken and Waterman were not all bad
Chris Deerin: I’m just ‘Ruby’s owner’ – and that’s enough
Chris Deerin: Fancy that, being a grown-up Artful Dodger with Hasidic leanings and a Sex Pistols fixation is rather fun after all
Chris Deerin: Posh hotels do lack life – give me Fawlty Towers any day
Chris Deerin: Keep praying for a saint who can restore the halo to our national politics
