I've been busy this week working on a top secret project.

After hearing that defence experts are claiming Trident could be moved out of Scotland at 10% less than the original figure, I decided to come up with some feasible, slightly off-kilter ideas with regards to the relocation.

First up, we turn it into a Channel 4 super hybrid show: Kevin McCloud from Grand Designs comes in to turn it into a big theme park and George Clarke from Amazing Spaces turns the inside into a Yellow Submarine with Heston Blumenthal and Jamie Oliver creating new restaurants, fish and chip shops, a pizza and hamburger joint, inside all the subs.

We're not finished there: the best part; while all the others work away, we send Kirsty and Phil from Location, Location, Location out looking for a new home for Trident.

'This week on Relocating Trident, we're helping to find a suitable new home for the UK's Nuclear Forces. We have a budget of between £20-25 billion. Finding a new location won't be easy. It has to be in a really crappy area, have access to deep dark waters, be accessible yet not too noticeable, preferably isolated and unlike Scotland, away from major towns and cities full of people; preferably in the Plymouth area. Things have broken down in terms of their relationship and following the vote for an Independent Scotland, they can't go on living together anymore.'

It's another winner…you know it.

But if that all fails, I have a plan B (I feel cheap saying that now, it may also be described as stupidity on stilts...I'm not so sure if I like that phrase or mental image either; sorry minor digression, again.)

Yes, we sub out the subs. Need a Nuke in a hurry? Call now…the French love all that nuclear stuff, you can't take le chien (yer dug) for a walk without 15 police cars and 10 motorbike outriders navigating a huge lorry or convoy dangereuse (mental radioactive convoy) around the towns, cities and villages of France. They love their nuclear warhead action.

The BBC will have the second live referendum debate between Alex Salmond and Alistair Darling from Kelvingrove on August 25. Salmond better up his game, change tactic and come out fighting. Cue the Rocky music and let's see a real fight, or he'll quickly be an exhibit in the museum in the old political dinosaur section.

Meanwhile, the BBC's Referendum Debate show wheeled into Inverness this week. It was well done, professional and quite entertaining. Two things stood out: actor Ken Stott almost looked like he was getting into character for a wee belligerent drunk sitting in a park bench whose neck was collapsing into himself, then ended up talking the most sense and putting everyone in their place. (Actually, all the men present on the panel looked like they had no neck, a mixture of bad posture and too many rich lunches).

Secondly, I watched Danny Alexander and thought poor Beaker: why? how? Then right on cue, he got mixed up and slagged off his own side. Ah you never lose the magic, best of all, as the audience laughed at his gaffe, he kept on going either oblivious or hoping no one noticed.

Recent polls have made interesting reading with the Yes campaign looking like they're taking an absolute beating. Yet when you speak to people in the street, or those actively out canvassing, attending meetings, there seems a real tangible grass roots movement and momentum toward a Yes vote. When you include the interaction and polls available online, you'd be forgiven for thinking there was something weird going on.

Then you think about it: big multinational conglomerates, businesses, corporations, organisations, don't really want the little man/woman to have power. They don't like him/her being too independent of thought, mind and aspiration. They prefer him/her to know their place. As long as the message is going out there that the Yes campaign is taking a beating and you don't want to be on the losing side, their job is done.

Sometimes these momentous occasions occur and you're stunned with the enormity, the sheer weight. You feel as though you're standing on the shoulders of giants, (in terms of context, preferably the Newton quote on the £2 coin; not the ropey fourth album from Oasis, though I've stood on that too, on many an occasion).

I don't know about you, but when the leaflet came through the door from the electoral commission, I for one breathed a huge sigh of relief.

The 2014 Scottish Referendum Voting Guide had a trendy look, a luminous quality, looking more like a government warning about ecstasy, was funky, cool and hip. It has a shiny, exotic, 1980s nightclub graphic.

More importantly, once you read the actual content, you felt an overriding sense of reassurance. In the 2014 Scottish Referendum Voting Guide there's a joint statement from the Scottish Government and the United Kingdom Government. It has an overwhelming, seismic and mind blowing message.

Here's what it said; you may want to sit down: 'If more people vote 'Yes' than vote 'No' in the referendum, Scotland would become an independent country.'

Oh man, is that how it works? Hold me back. I'm glad they spent hundreds of thousands printing that up.

It gets better, apparently you can't vote unless you've registered. Seriously? I thought you could just walk in off the street and vote as many times as you felt. Praise the lord! Glory glory alleluia! I've been to the mountaintop…Mine eyes have seen the glory of the referendum guide…

So you register to vote, then if more people vote yes, Scotland gets independence. Thanks for clearing that up.