There continue to be many UFO sightings in Bonnybridge, about 300 a year apparently and some go back earlier than the beginning of the ‘flap’. Local believer Craig Malcolm, 37, claims hundreds of sightings since 1991, and has hours of video footage that he believes proves there is something going on in the skies above the village. "I first saw a UFO in 1991, right above my house. It was a disc-shaped object hovering silently and it hung around for a good five minutes," he say

The most enduring fact about the village of Bonnybridge is that it became known in the 90s as the UFO capitol of, variously, Britain, Europe or the world depending on how much it was being built up. I was young enough when it began that it didn’t seem stranger than anything else that went on and took it for granted though when I got older the place was a butt of a lot of jokes because of it. The first reported sighting occurred in 1992 when businessman James Walker said he no

You get to High Bonnybridge by going south uphill along the Broomhill Road, past the primary school and the chapel I attended when I was young, the wood enclosed field where the villages only murder occurred and underneath the railway bridge. Nothing could be a better marker; the shift is obvious and instant, one has clearly left one sort of place and entered another sort. If you follow the road and turn tight along Church St you’ll find the eponymous church; the door locked

The Dynamics Of An Asteroid/Resetting The Universe Fig 1. Apophis 99942[1] For a first year project I called The Dynamics of an Asteroid[2] I devised a series of actions to be performed with one person as the audience where I would go through a dozen stages from the person’s death, on through every unavoidable extinction event[3] until the Earth’s debris is consumed by the sun[4] and on until the end of the universe. It took place outside the first year studio by the suspend

I had become fascinated by information theory after reading about it while making an ultra low-resolution graphic adventure type game. The idea that information exists as energy and is destroyed by entropy[1] seemed to have huge implications for my work. In my very elementary understanding of information theory the greatest implication is how the amount of information contained in an image like a jpeg can be reduced almost 100% and still be recognisable. I made an old-fashion

I’d sit on this round boulder down in the culvert between the field and the heath. No one could see you there if they passed by, the long grass and the hawthorn trees that grew overhead would block the view of anyone more than a few feet away. I’d go up there in the autumn and winter, a little before it got dark and when the sky was clear to watch the night fall and the first stars come out. Over the fields, about twenty miles away across the fields that covered the floodplai

The Head of the River. I am passing through Springburn. High concrete banks are on either side. To the left is a Victorian warehouse and then an enormous industrial park, which contains two supermarkets and a petrol station, I have no memory of it ever ending or what is beyond it. In front of the bus, facing South, is a footbridge spanning 6 lanes of road. Underneath and through the bridge is Glasgow. To the right are two tower blocks directly beside the road. Every window is

This is the first winter we have lived on the farm. It's been snowing heavily for hours and it's starting to get dark. As the snow eases off I'm allowed to go outside and play. I put on two jackets, two scarves, my mum's wellies and for some reason, two baseball caps. I can't remember what my sister wears but she owns her own wellies. I open the door. There are thirty miles of farmland, and then Glasgow, Which I have visited once. There is no one else to walk in the snow and

“As the eye is formed, such are its powers” I stood in a field as the moon rose as yet unseen. I’d never heard the foxes scream as I learned they always did three days before the moon was full. They screamed like anguished women. I’d stood in that spot years before and at my feet I’d found a strip of a hedgehog’s skin not yet dried out. A fox had peeled the little animal alive as it curled to defend itself, biting into the sharp quills. The hedgehog had understood the fox the