Some very small nations would be born: Clackmannanstan, Perthistan, Aberdeenbijan, not to mention Dundeebyjings. Fife would be a kingdom once again. We could sell Orkney and Shetland back to the Norwegians.
Glasgow could be a city state, living off the wealth of its vassals in Bearsden, Milngavie, Giffnock and Newton Mearns. To prevent a complete break-up of the country we might settle for a federal system. Edinburgh AC/DC would have special status as capital of the United States of Scotland.
Ayrshire and Lanarkshire would be the southern confederate states, all banjo music and inbreeding. Dumfries and Galloway would be Scotland rsquo;s Florida. I rsquo;m looking forward to STV rsquo;s new crime shows Moniaive Vice and CSI: Palnackie.
You can take devolution too far. I know a man who wants freedom for Hillhead, away from the rest of Glasgow rsquo;s west end. And there are certain bits of Hillhead he rsquo;s not sure about.
Personally, I would be happy to see a free and independent state where Borderers can sing ldquo;this land is my land from the Tweed waters to wherever it is the Borders end and the Lothians begin hellip; rdquo; The Borderers are a breed apart. At this point I would like to be controversial and make some disparaging remarks about the land of the reivers. I could repeat one of my favourite jokes, the one about the Hawick girls with Next on their knickers, but I won rsquo;t.
The Borderers are a breed apart, in a nice way, and that even includes Derek Bateman of Radio Scotland. The new political movement is the Borders Party and not the Borders National Party, which is just as well since the acronym would be unfortunate. The Borders Party has been formed to fight the Edinburgh drive for lebensraum.
The BP does not want the reopening of the Waverley railway line to turn their rural idyll into a vast suburb of the capital. It is apparently too late for Galashiels, which has already been annexed by Asda and Tesco. To continue the Third Reich analogies, what the Borders Party wants is a putsch against the regime at the Scottish Borders Council.
There will be BP candidates in all the wards at the May municipal elections. One of the voices supporting the BP is well-known Melrose resident Earl Haig of Bemersyde, son of the first world war butcher. Earl Haig Jr says the council is run by ldquo;strong leaders who are not taking much notice rdquo; of other people rsquo;s opinions.
The concept of strong leaders who pursue agendas regardless of others reminds me of Earl Haig Sr, but let rsquo;s not go down the Menin Road today. More power, I say, to the Hillhead Independence Party (HIP as we like to think of ourselves in the west end) should such a movement ever be set up. My preference as leader of HIP would be Tommy Sheridan, now that he is in a political vacuum.
But he might be too busy running the People rsquo;s Republic of Pollok. If there is only sound when the Japanese conceptual artist is in charge, listeners will not be able to savour the full flavour of the Ono approach. I assume the programme will be done as a bed-in.
James Naughtie and John Humphrys will be in their pyjamas, sharing a double bed just like Eric and Ernie did in the innocent days of the old Morecambe And Wise shows. Hopefully, there will be bagism. One of Yoko rsquo;s performances with John Lennon consisted of both of them onstage, inside a large velvet bag for 45 minutes.
They were doing nothing, hardly moving, which was a great disappointment to the tabloid press who turned up expecting a bit of haughmagandie . Another Yoko piece was called Hide And Go Seek, the philosophy of which was: ldquo;Hide until everyone forgets about you. rdquo; Sounds ideal for many of the politicians who populate the Today programme.
There will be music, Ono-style. She is a devotee of John Cage rsquo;s Zen-influenced ideas, incorporating silence and natural sounds. Yoko may be prevailed upon to perform her song Why, which consists of her repeating the word ldquo;why rdquo; for five minutes.
This may be indistinguishable from a John Humphrys interview. I have never knowingly heard any of Yoko Ono rsquo;s albums but, according to my research assistant, Mr Wikipedia, some songs consist of wordless vocalisations. Yoko will presumably be keeping that stuff for when she is invited to run the Radio 1 morning programme.
LIFE is no laughing matter for asylum seekers who are wheeched away early of a morning from their high-flat homes to be locked up in the Dungavel detention centre. But a film by Camcorder Guerillas manages to cover the topic with a measure of humour and humanity. The film ndash; Visit Dungavel, Monster Of The Glen ndash; is a mix of drama, animation, music, and testimony from refugees.
But it is strongest on satire. There is a section in which actor Gary Lewis presents a spoof education programme called Sums For Beginners. He starts with a big number, 200,000.
This is what the film says it costs to keep a couple with three children in Dungavel for a year. There is a smaller number, 11,000, which is what it costs to keep the same family in a flat in the community. There are in-between numbers.
The family could be sent on a Mediterranean cruise for a year for 121,680. They could be housed in a suite at Gleneagles Hotel for 151,110 a year. The weans could be sent to Gordonstoun for 58,257 a year.
Dungavel is so expensive because it is run by Serco, a multinational company, which passes on a healthy share of the loot to its shareholders. The film satirises Dungavel as a heather and Scotty-dog holiday destination where visitors get a hundred thousand welcomes and a free plane trip home. Beyond satire is the bit where Tory MSP Lord James Douglas-Hamilton talks about how lovely Dungavel was as the landed gentry rsquo;s shooting lodge where he was born and brought up.
Lord James, who is a terribly decent man, has the grace to say that it is desperately sad that Dungavel, where he was as free as a bird, is now a place where children are locked up. This is a film you are unlikely to see on your telly. See it at camcorderguerillas.
net. MASTERMIND contestant Simon Curtis made TV history by scoring only one point in his specialist subject, the films of Jim Carrey. He passed on 12 questions and answered a further four incorrectly.
This takes us back to the man from West Belfast whose specialist subject was the Provisional IRA. Every time Magnus Magnusson asked a question, he replied: ldquo;Pass. rdquo; He got no points but won the approval of a friend in the audience who shouted: ldquo;Good man, Paddy.
Tell the bastards feck all!
News RSS