Scotland - at least on the basis of Nigel Farage’s recent reception in Edinburgh - is wide awake to the dangers of the beast. And what a beastly lot they are too.
That such a reactionary, xenophobic crew could achieve second place in a parliamentary by-election and almost a quarter of the vote in local elections nationally, shows just how far to the right English politics have moved over the last 30 years.
In my last blog, I explained how I had become an award-winning author. Now I’m a film star. Och, when you retire, the world’s your oyster, right enough!
The competition was organised by the National Galleries of Scotland in conjunction with the English-Speaking Union and the Scottish Poetry Library. The idea is to take one exhibit from the galleries’ collections and write a 1000-word piece inspired by it.
The work I chose was My Father, a 1966 portrait by the Scottish painter John Bellany. I wasn’t a winner or runner-up but I achieved a special merit which put me in the top 10 of the adult prose section. (Yes, yes, I know, my family has already stressed there were probably only 11 entrants.)
Firstly, death party celebrations are just inappropriate and unseemly. That's not to say jigging in the streets to rejoice some hated leader’s demise is always in bad taste.
Take Hitler, Stalin and Mao, for example. Who wouldnt dance with joy to mark the end of such monsters? Let's hope they really did go where the goblins go.
And when the current lot in North Korea bite the dust, that too might be the time for a spot of the Gay Gordons in George Square.
Strictly speaking, he ran a ‘juvenile’ side – for ages 18-21. ‘Youth’ football was for the 16-18 year-olds and the ‘amateurs’ were ‘the auld men’ over 21.