You look at the yellow toffees abandoned at the bottom of the tub of Quality Street and see an allegory for an independent Scotland…abandoned, discarded, unwanted and unloved.
While we're getting on with the festivities and never getting the peace to actually do anything, a few things came to mind that brought me back to Scottish politics. While Dr Who, Sherlock, a bit of The Great Escape, the end of the Alamo, some of It's a Wonderful Life whizzed by, I was surprised that both Eastenders and the darts of all things, lit a comedic spark.
Eastenders reminded me of the Scottish Parliament in full tilt when they're going for it hammer and tongs. For the ten minutes I watched everyone was shouting, even when they were happy. They roared at each other, even to ask if they wanted a cup of tea. The dynamic didn't come from the skill of the dialogue or story but from the volume of actors shouting.
The shouting led me to reminisce of Tommy Sheridan. There has to be another chapter left in Tommy's career. He has so much to give politically in terms of political cartooning, comedy and satire. Perhaps the changing political landscape in a post-independent Scotland September 2014 may be the perfect backdrop for his rebirth. I have to say my lasting memory of listening to Sheridan was one of profound industrial deafness.
Then we have the darts. Holyrood and Yes Scotland should start to think out of the box and use darts as a means to challenge Better Together into some televised competition. I've been most impressed with the drunken, yobbish, sexist behaviour of the darts fans over the Christmas period at the Alexander Palace and have to say yes, I'd settle for the indyref debate coming down to a darts head to head. Pick your song to walk on to, over two legs, one in London at the Ally Pally the other in The Hydro. In TV land that's known as a winner.
Could Andy Murray be the first high profile Scottish victim of a vindictive Tory backlash against independence? It has their style all over it.
Didn't Downing St. say it would recommend he become Sir Andy? Like any Scottish sporting legend, Andy Murray played it down by getting beat in the second round of the Qatar Open in his comeback from back surgery. You know his mum will be going mental- she's just bought an outfit, a Carmontelle cashmere blend with a peplum frill at the waist, pure Elle McPherson, for the big day at the palace.
Despite being the first British man to win the Wimbledon Men Singles title in 77 years, he was overlooked for the knighthood. You have to look for a precedent. Other famous Scots like Sir Jackie Stewart; he drove around in a car? Sir Chris Hoy? Sat on a bike and went dead fast. You also have recent knighthoods in sport for Sir Bradley Wiggins, sitting on a bike, letting it do all the work. Sir Ben Ainsley, messing around on a boat and cycling team boss Dave Brailsford who drove about in a car shouting out the window at people.
I'd say Andy Murray's achievement was more gruelling, more intense, more torturous and because he doesn't cosy up to the Government and the Monarchy like the others, ironically as he's so busy training and preparing, then he gets left out. Sources from Number 10 claim that it's because it's too soon to last year's OBE but I'm having none of it. Out of order.
There's an annual tradition of jumping into the icy cold waters of the Forth on New Year's Day called The Loony Dook. Wouldn't it be great if the MSPs from Holyrood jumped in for charity? Of course there would be a few environmental risks, from causing an oil slick, poisoning the water, to beached creatures becoming stranded having ran off course, eh maybe not.
New Year and nine months until Scotland decides whether to become an independent nation or remain within the Union. Thus far, the referendum has highlighted unappealing aspects of our collective psyche. We're incapable of listening, of engaging in intelligent debate, are argumentative, belligerent and cantankerous. The more the other side are arrogant, conceited and haughty, the more the anger rises. At times it's so frustrating that you start to think some are lunatics who don't deserve democracy.
For me, it comes down to a few points. The economic issue must be set out clearly. We need to be more confident, modernise and think of the future, engage in dialogue and act like a modern European powerhouse. We must lose the Braveheart, Tartan Army and Jock Rock (inaccurate film, celebrating defeat and outdated art form). We are no longer the homeless alcoholic at London's King Cross.
Just days into 2014 we are reminded that this is the centenary of the First World War and the 700th anniversary of Bannockburn. We should always remember the sacrifices made for peace and show our gratitude by embracing a chance for historic change - or not- in a blood free and peaceful manner.
I'm still eagerly awaiting my copy of the SNP's blueprint for an independent Scotland, the slightly beige coloured off-white, white paper. It's clearly been held up trying to wend its way through Vince Cable's new Royal Mail full of obese felines. I can't let it go. I wonder how it will read? Rimbaud perhaps, some decadent, modernist poetic rhythm? The luminosity of Marcel Proust's 'Remembrance of Things Past'. Flaubert's 'Madame Bovary'? The plotting skill of Tolstoy in 'War and Peace' or the stream of consciousness, rich characterisation of 'Ulysses' by Joyce. Oh the anticipation…