If Cameron's proposed WW1 Jingoistic Jamboree took the biscuit AB, then this image has to take the whole Airborne Stew.*
The accompanying tweet from the RBL official account is even worse. I can think of nothing that is further from the spirit of remembrance than dressing up small children (probably from some dreadful drama school or modelling agency) in Future Soldier t-shirts with poppies that look as if they've come off the set of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. Are we remembering the War to End All Wars (Et Seq.) or are we engaged in a recruitment drive?
In the days when we had politicians who had served and the Service charities were actually run by ex-Servicemen, the British Establishment managed to tread the fine line between Remembrance and Jingoism every November. Even that annual very definition of the height of irony, the men and women of St Dunstan's giving an eyes left at the Cenotaph, which never fails to have me welling up, was brought off with a certain, dignified aplomb.
Now that we have politicians who are PR airheads, whose only experience of war comes from Hollywood films and Commando comics, and many of the charities are run by a grossly overpaid similar class of professional PR 'fundraisers', no-one actually knows where the line between Remembrance and Jingoism even lies any more.
The Royal British Legion has well and truly crossed the line to a place I can no longer go with it. I'm not alone in that thought. I'll content myself with a donation to Erskine and pray they don't fall victim to the same air-headed jingoism.
I'll leave you with a tune I learned on the pipes as a kid. It was many years later I learned it was the tune to a song by Thomas Moore (1779 - 1852), who was hailed as the Irish Robert Burns in his day. He set his song to "an old Scotch air" and, for obvious reasons if you listen to the lyrics, the song became hugely popular in the years after the First World War. The celebrity-obsessed PR tossers now running the RBL would do well to listen.
* During officer training in the Army, my oppo was a Para. They have a quaint tradition of cooking up the entire contents of a 24Hr ration pack in one meal, called an Airborne Stew. I had to fight to stop him putting the Rolos in as well.
It's only been running since yesterday, but already nearly 30 Scots have allegedly been fleeced of almost £1,300 according to Lord Robertson. The fraud, believed to be masterminded by Russian internet criminals Юлие Фоулис & Чхрис Ригхт, aims to net £25,000 in only 60 days.
This scam is being perpetrated on the ludicrous basis that an organisation known as Tobar an Dualchais / Kist o' Riches has been preserving and making available to the public free of charge thousands of hours of non-existent Scottish Language and Culture.
Aren't we lucky to have quondam socialist and SNP member George now The Baron Robertson of Port Ellen KT GCMG FRSA FRSE PC to save us from unscrupulous scams like this? As recently as 23rd September at Abertay University he warned students and the wider Scottish public that there was no such thing as Scottish culture or language (35:50):
“There’s no linguistic differentiation, no great cultural, eh, discrimination that might argue for it, like it does in some other countries, you know, in Flanders in Belgium they say “Why can’t we become an independent state?”, or Catalonia and Spain, where a million and a quarter people marched in the streets. They say they want to become an independent state, but they've got language, and culture, and all these sort of things. We don’t have any of that.”
Lord Robertson is understood to be writing to Chief Constable of Police Scotland urging that the gang be rounded up. Speaking exclusively to Logic's Rock this morning he said:
"It's deplorable! At a time when NHS Scotland is making a special effort to deal with alcohol consumption, these scammers are offering £50 off courses in speaking Garlic and Garlic songs of drinking and revelry given at some place called Sabhal Mor Ostrich by a lush from Lvov called Маргарет Стеварт. Well, she must be Russian or Ukrainian since a proud Scot like me can't understand a word she says.
"Two of the scammers, the aforementioned Юлие Фоулис and a Донние Мунро actually expect gullible Scots to pay up and then invite them into their homes to give private concerts! Would you invite a Russian internet criminal into your home and pay for the privilege?"
A spokesman for Police Scotland said "Lord Robertson has been detained for questioning and will be examined by a police surgeon in due course. Until our investigations are concluded on or about 15th December, we urge people to click on links to Tobar an Dualchais' Sponsume site and to give as much as they can."
The site gives the lyrics to hundreds of Scottish songs and the background and recordings of some of them. Only a few feature in the Express expose of the Scottish Government's dastardly plot to indoctrinate the youth of Scotland with, erm, their own culture. Of course, Lord George Robertson famously argued that we don't have our own culture or languages, and as part of the dastardly plot, the website has songs in Scots and Gaelic as well as English.
Let's savour the outrageous outrage from rent-a-quote politicians:
Better Together Spokesman:
“This is an outrageous example of taxpayer-funded political propaganda. It is a deeply cynical ploy aimed at presenting a distorted view of history to people who will, after all, be voting next year.
“This exposes the lengths SNP ministers will go to in order to get people to vote for independence.”
Scottish Conservative education spokeswoman Mary Scanlon:
“The SNP is abusing the education system to promote its own separation propaganda.
“It should be up to teachers to use the material they choose, but there is no doubting in the run-up to the referendum the Scottish Government is trying to influence things with an independence slant.
“First we had Mike Russell insisting all colleges play a video of him at graduation, now we have an influx of divisive anthems for the classroom.”
Not all of the songs on the website warrant a ticket on the outrage bus. The outrage is caused by the inclusion of the following songs and the blurb they come up with to justify their inclusion is at times beyond parody:
Shock-horror!
One of the political songs on the Education Scotland website, which is designed to be used by both teachers and pupils, is The Freedom Come All Ye, by the late Scots poet Hamish Henderson. It is regarded as the unofficial anthem of the independence movement and was recently sung en masse at the Yes Scotland rally on Calton Hill.
Hamish always railed against it being used as a Scottish anthem, seeing it as an international anthem. But those nasty separatists sang it up a hill so it must now be expunged from the national canon.
The Outrage Bus gangs aglae on the M8
Another is Both Sides of the Tweed, a protest song against the Treaty of Union which was written by the Glaswegian folk singer Dick Gaughan after the 1979 Devolution Referendum.
On the website, Gaughan is quoted as saying: “The verses call for the recognition of Scotland’s right to sovereignty and the choruses argue against prejudice between our peoples.”
My understanding is that it was written by James Hogg, the Ettrick Shepherd and Dick Gaughan made some minor amendments to give it contemporary relevance, although Dick attributes the original words as Trad. A lifelong Leither, Dick put the tune to it.
Nurse! Ma Pills! Someone's just flashed their Burns' Songs at me!
Two of Robert Burns’s most famous works – Scots Wha Hae, the official song of the SNP which is sung at the end of party conferences, and Sic a Parcel of Rogues – are also on display.
With regard to the latter, the website states that “many Scots were angry in 1707” and suggests that Sir Walter Scott – who was a prominent Unionist and Tory – was against the formation of Great Britain.
As if reporting the private parts of some flasher in a park, two of Burns' most famous songs are also on display. There are dozens of other Burns songs on the site which don't warrant a mention. Does the website suggest Sir Walter Scott was agin the Union? No, it doesn't. Here's the only mention:
Many Scots were angry in 1707. Sir Walter Scott summed up the popular Scottish attitude of the time in the words of one of his characters: 'I ken, when we had a king, and a chancellor, and parliament - men o' our ain, we could aye peeble them wi' stones when they werena gude bairns - But naebody's nails can reach the length o' Lunnon.'
Apoplexy!
Education Scotland even appears to be pre-judging the outcome of the referendum by listing the various “candidates for a Scottish national anthem”, including Caledonia, The Freedom Come All Ye, Scots Wha Hae and Scotland the Brave.
So Scotland can't have an anthem if we vote No?
Jacobites and Lefties, whatever next?
There are also numerous Jacobite songs, as well as a number of left-leaning political works.
They include Ding Dong Dollar, “the anthem of the Scottish Anti-Polaris movement of the 1960s and beyond”, which remains popular with protestors at Faslane naval base.
Students are also encouraged to learn If It Wisnae for the Union, “a song in praise of trade unionism”, which was adapted by Billy Connolly into The Welly Boot Song.
I've said for a long time that if the Jacobites were half as good at military strategy as they were at songwriting, the Stuarts would still be on the throne. It follows that if the lefties were half as good at political strategy as they are at songwriting we wouldn't have Cameron in Downing Street. When did you last hear a Tory political song?
Aaaargh! The Russians are coming - and THE IMMIGRANTS!
Welcoming immigrants? I bet that had the Express readership choking on their cornflakes.
Outrage at a song about an outrage.
Who Pays the Piper? by Nancy Nicolson attacks the “immensely rich companies” involved in the North Sea Oil industry, which is described as being “fed by workers’ lives”.
To cap it all, irony is just a ferric adjective. Who Pays the Piper is about the Piper Alpha disaster. The advances in safety in the North Sea since that event are testament to the constructive use of the outrage voiced by the whole nation at the time.
Yours truly and Nancy Nicolson singing a duet in 1998.
I have the breaking strain of a KitKat. A couple of messages from friends raving about Adam Holmes And The Embers' debut album Heirs and Graces and, despite having pre-ordered the CD, I couldn't resist downloading it from iTunes. Well, he's in Austria or somesuch place and there's no way I could hold out till he gets back. It was well worth it.
Scotland has produced many good musicians, songwriters and singers and a fair few great ones. Once in a blue moon we are privileged to be around on this Earth when a true genius comes along and Adam Holmes is just that. To get that musical and lyrical talent in one person together with the delicious timbre of his voice is a rarity indeed. His dry, smoky voice is so understated you don't really understand why it captivates you so much until you really listen and discover a vocal range and dexterity of technique that is quite simply amazing.
Though only in his early twenties, Adam writes and performs with a maturity and depth way beyond his years. Musically, the arrangements are sublime. There is a rare economy in the arrangements and he knows just how long to suspend a note for maximum effect, though nothing comes across as contrived.
If you like your music honest and your songs heartfelt, you'll enjoy this album which would sit seamlessly in a playlist alongside John Martyn.
Hey, don't take my word for it. Just look at the line-up that were keen to contribute to this debut album:
Produced by John Wood (Fairport, Nick Drake, John Martyn)
Mastered by Simon Heyworth (Mike Oldfield, George Harrison)
Featuring:
Adam Holmes - Guitar, Accordion and Vocals Kris Drever - Guitar, Harmonium and Vocals Steven Blake - Keyboards
Alex Hunter - Bass Calum McIntyre - Drums, Percussion and Vibes
Ciarán Ryan - Fiddle
Stuart Goodall - Guitar and Vocals Alan Train - Pedal Steel.
Hannah Beaton - Vocals. Simon Walker - Drums.
I apologise to readers for the lack of posts over the last couple of weeks or so but I've been on a music-filled holiday. Firstly, a guest ticket to Cambridge Folk Festival thanks to Ross Couper & Tom Oakes' need for a driver. The Scots and the Irish stole the show, and a complete surprise for this uber-traditional Duke of Dreich was to find myself rocking my bits off in company with around three and a half thousand mainly English people of all ages to Sketch, whose line-up included the amazing Ross Ainslie on pipes and Techno-Trad Rock Godess wee Hannah Beaton on vocals. It's not the kind of thing I'd listen to in the house, but jings it's great for a party. Orcadian band The Chair closed the show in grand style and was joined on stage by the delightful Bella Hardy, for whom I traded Ross Couper for the journey home.
It was one helluva drive from Cambridge to Sabhal Mor Ostaig in Skye last Monday, largely fuelled by obscene amounts of nuclear coffee, Irn Bru, laughs with Bella and Tom (as far as Edinburgh) and the achingly beautiful Pipes & Strings Suite for Alan CD. If you don't own a copy, click the link and part with £12 +P&P. I guarantee you won't be disappointed.
So I arrived a day late for Margaret Stewart's Gaelic Songs of Drink and Revelry course. Catching up was an experience as I was finding it difficult to function as a human being and in my first language of English, having had barely 3 hours of sleep a night camping at Cambridge. There's something wonderfully Scottish that in this country for a few hundred quid, a pub chanter like me can spend a week in one of the most beautiful parts of the country being coached by one of the top traditional Gaelic singers, indeed one of the top singers in the world in any language. If you're a Gaelic learner like me, there's no better way to learn the pronunciation and rhythms of this essentially musical language. Even if you're just a music lover without the time or inclination to learn Gaelic, you'd still find the week great value.
The highlight for me was not the trip to the Talisker Distillery, ticketyboo though that was. Nor indeed was it the frequent drinking and revelry practicals throughout the week, fun though they were. I'd asked Margaret to include An Clàrsair Dall's Oran Mòr MhicLeòid and she saved it up for the Friday. The beauty of her magisterial rendition had this hard-bitten (though admittedly big, soft) auld shyte welling up. It's now over 60 years since Marietta MacLeod was recorded giving the Oran Mòr MhicLeòid (excerpt) by Hamish Henderson at the Edinburgh People's Ceilidh, so we're long overdue a fresh and less "hands clenched tightly under the bosom" operatic recording.
I'm also hoping Margaret can reconcile her reservations regarding sacred music on a secular CD with her duty for the preservation of her mesmerising solo interpretations of the Psalms by recording The Royal Wedding Psalm and The Victory Psalm. As she was telling us the singing of Gaelic Psalms is even declining in Back Free Church on Lewis, I pray that preservation wins out. I first heard her sing The Victory Psalm around 15 years ago in the Reid Concert Hall in Edinburgh accompanied by Allan MacDonald on the small pipes. The audience was stunned into enraptured silence and it was nigh on a full minute before a tentative ripple of applause brought everyone out of their rapture to raise the roof in appreciation.
So after a week and a half of some of the finest music and culture these islands and beyond have to offer, imagine my reaction on being sent a link to the BBC's latest prime-time Saturday entertainment: I Love My Country. Imagine my further reaction to finding that this Z-list Sleb-filled, Cockney Chavtastic, Engfest pretending to be a Britfest of an excrescence onto the airwaves is apparently produced by BBC Scotland.
Given that I work in the health service I feel duty bound to issue a cerebral advisory health warning before you click on the link. Watching that has the same effect as shoving a liquidiser up your nose and feeling your brains dribbling from your ears. Jeez, Frank Skinner must have lost out big time in the financial crisis to be reduced to this.
For those who daren't risk exposure to this electromagnetic excrement, take the map game for example. The Slebs are invited to place a Yorkshire pudding on a map of the UK as close as possible to a nominated place, and what a map it is:
Shetland and the Northern part of Orkney are a new archipelago off the East coast of Scotland, the Channel Islands have migrated North and who knows what the hell is going on on the Western Seaboard of Scotland? Mull appears to have merged with the mainland and I'm not sure if the appendage below it is meant to be Islay and Jura or if that longstanding BBC measure of televisual penile decency, the Mull of Kintyre has got excited and acquired some epididymal cysts.
The Irish Sea appears to be depicted (possibly accurately) as some white nuclear contamination zone emanating from Sellafield and the disproportionately large 6 counties of Northern Ireland appear to be balanced by the fact that some putative Trident nuclear accident has wiped most of Co Donegal from the map.
At first I thought this dumbed-down, puerile crap was aired after closing time à la OTT, but it may as well be aired at prime time as there's not enough alcohol in the world to make this programme remotely funny or entertaining.
I'm biting the bullet now and changing to watching catch-up services only, for which you don't need a TV licence as I'm not prepared to fund crap, relentless unionist propaganda or indeed hordes of BBC Executives paying each other telephone number salaries. The £145.50 will be far better spent on one of next Summer's courses at Sabhal Mor Ostaig.
Viewing "I Love My Country" has however removed any vestige of a reservation I might have had about going to see The Boy and The Bunnet again, despite not having a kiddie in tow. Billed as being suitable for folk of age 3 upwards, Scotland's take on the basic idea of Sergei Prokofiev's Peter and the Wolf, with some of our finest players and their traditional instruments taking the part of characters in the endearing story is far more adult, cerebral and enjoyable that the previously discussed BBC prime time alleged family entertainment. I would highly recommend it for the music alone, but the whole package is a fine way to escape the lunacy of Edinburgh at Festival time for an hour.
The Mistress of the Singing Universe, SuBo has had her hand declared for Unionism. The unlikely Bond villain, who first came to world prominence in a gold dress given to her by her uncle Auric Goldfinger, gave an interview to The Sun while she stroked her white pussy.
Economists have been scratching their heads since her intervention, trying to work out what dastardly scheme her uncle has up his sleeve, since the economically challenged chanteuse said:
"Many people are struggling to make ends meet — how will they cope if prices escalate because of this change?”
Runaway inflation is a new independence threat, not even uttered by the evil Project Fear up to now. Her uncle famously once before tried but failed to cause runaway inflation in the price of gold with the aid of a stolen nuclear weapon. Why he should pick on Scotland this time is as yet unknown.
Economists and linguists worldwide are still trying to work out what this threat even means:
“Economically, the costs of change will be vast and money that should be directed into important areas like hospitals, schools and the vulnerable in society will be swallowed by bureaucracy."
"M" has placed the British Army on the highest alert state after she threatened:
“Then there’s the question of the military — what will become of the regiments?"
Geologists initially dismissed her backhanded threat: "I strongly believe Scotland should remain part of Britain." The best scientific minds were all certain that Mainland Scotland would remain the Northern third of the Island of Britain for at least 300 million years. However she soon wiped the smile off their faces. On hearing that the First Minister's favourite malt was the Isle of Jura, she decided to demonstrate her power by wiping it from the face of the earth.
First Minister Alec Salmond is considering resigning after this terrifying intervention and it is understood that Sir Sean Connery has gone into hiding. Reluctant Cybernats all over the internet are calling for the independence referendum to be cancelled after the intervention of the powerful intellectual giant. Reverend Stuart Campbell of Wings over Scotland called for calm, fearing some abusive Cybernat may rile her into destroying Skye. Duggy Dug has been silenced as he fears for Islay.
They're planning for indifference,
They're talking their own version of the tune.
Standing round in silent queues,
We're fighting for your freedom too, Because everyone's expecting to be led.
Just close the doors and windows and listen to them argue in your head.
They won't even hear it, harmony's in chaos once again.
- Bobby Nicholson
Yesterday I attended the Edinburgh University event at the MacEwan Hall, "The Union: an Historical Perspective - Is it Better Together or Should Scotland say Yes to Independence". The format was a lecture by Prof Tom Devine followed by a panel discussion. The lecture was essentially a distillation of his Emden Lecture[click link for video] given at Oxford University on 11 June, weighted to examining how the Union had survived for 300+ years.
The panel was as interesting for who wasn't there as to who was. The Yes camp was represented by Blair Jenkins, chairman of Yes Scotland and Margo McDonald MSP, the independent former SNP politician. The No camp was represented by Ruth Davidson MSP, Scottish Conservative leader and Willie Rennie, Scottish Lib-Dem leader.
That there was no SNP representation I think was a deliberate, strategic move by Yes Scotland to see the SNP take a back seat for a while. Indeed, Margo hammered home the point that the referendum was not about parties but the people, and that if we voted Yes, it would be up to us to shape the independent Scotland we wish to see. However, the absence of any Labour representation was rather less explicable. It was left to Tom Devine to reveal that apparently the former Prime Mentalist, Gordon Brown is trying to hash together some Mega Devo Plus rabbit which he plans to pull from the hat in a few months.
The moderator invited Margo and Blair to outline their vision for an independent Scotland and Ruthie and Willie to outline their positive case for the union. Ruthie chose to wax lyrical about the British Army, harking back to her trip to Kosovo as a 21 year old trainee journalist, but carefully avoiding comment on the more recent misadventures of the British Armed Forces. Both Wee Ruthie and Willie harped on about size and strength, punching above our weight, seats on the UNSC, G8, power and influence in the world. I really am not turned on by those arguments as I have no wish to punch anyone, above or below my weight.
In terms of Vision looking forward, Willie Rennie wholly voluntarily and without prompting, live on stage, metaphorically took out his Browning 9mm, deliberately took aim at his left foot and fired. He informed the audience that he wanted to see the Scottish Parliament made permanent, as it is currently a temporary institution voted into existence by Westminster which could just as easily be voted out of existence by Westminster. It seems that in his own time as a one-term wonder in Westminster, he did not learn that there is no constitutional mechanism in the UK to legislate Holyrood into permanence as sovereignty rests with the Crown in Parliament and that sovereignty is absolute. Any future Westminster parliament has the power to do as it damned well pleases, untramelled by putative, previous Lib Dem legislation.
The acoustics were not great and I missed what Ruthie mumbled when asked by the moderator what progress had been made by her Tory Constitutional Commission. It was Tom Devine who pointed out in no uncertain terms (and I'm paraphrasing here) that if Scotland votes No without any cast-iron guarantees from the unionist parties, Scotland is royally stuffed. However, in my view, since such 'guarantees' of Jam Tomorrow are worthless no matter how apparently 'cast iron' a politician may make them out to be, Scotland will be stuffed if she votes no. Both Ruthie and the former Prime Mentalist are on a hiding to nothing. If they were really offering the people of Scotland a Jam Tomorrow Devo-Max option, why were they so keen to have it removed from the ballot paper? Because they have no intention whatsoever of delivering.
In terms of prognostication, the rise of English right-wing nationalism, as evidenced by the swivel-eyed loons of UKIP gaining 25% of the votes, and particularly how they fare in the European Parliamentary elections in 2014 was seen as potentially having a major effect on the referendum result as England and Scotland diverge politically.
Margo had made the point right at the start that the referendum and the future of Scotland was a matter for us, the people of Scotland, not the political parties. I was therefore somewhat disappointed that when, at the end of the discussion, the moderator asked for a show of hands: "Do you feel you've been given enough information to come to a decision?" around 2/3rds of the audience raised their hands to the negative iteration of the question. As well as looking at the raised hands, I scanned some of the faces. There was almost an accusatory expression directed at the politicians on the panel. Given the venue and the hosting institution, this was apparently an audience of some intellect and this is the internet age. However, it appeared a lot of people are still looking to politicians for leadership and guidance on this issue. I find it hard to understand how, after all we've been through, people look to these same Politicians who are among the least trusted professionals in the country for leadership and guidance.
Tom Devine's main point about how the Union had survived was that Scotland survived being in bed with an elephant because the elephant stayed on her side of the bed and Scotland had largely governed herself through institutions like local government and the General Assembly of the Church of Scotland from the 1750s to the 1970s. It was the rampaging she-elephant that crossed to our side of the bed in the 1980s that was possibly the beginning of the end for the union.
Although Tom Devine didn't mention it, to me the interesting survivor of our time in bed with the elephant has been the principle in Scots Constitutional Law, famously iterated by the Lord President in Ian Hamilton and John MacCormick v. Lord Advocate (1953), that:
“the principle of unlimited sovereignty of Parliament is a distinctively English principle and has no counterpart in Scottish constitutional law”.
The referendum is about creating our nation built on that principle where We are sovereign, not the politicians. Unlike the Westminster tradition of elective dictatorship parliamentary sovereignty with no written constitution, we will have a written constitution, our contract with our politicians setting out what powers we are prepared to delegate to them and in what circumstances they may use them. With that sovereignty comes a responsibility not to wait to be spoon fed by politicians, but to educate ourselves so that we are fit to exercise that sovereignty. In the internet age and with our thankfully still existing library services, there really is no excuse. All you'll get from the politicians will be harmony in chaos.
I'll leave you with Bobby Nicholson's video of his song Harmony in Chaos.
Edit 29 Jun 2013: Edinburgh University has now published the video of the event. You can view it here.
OK, so we're nowhere near the Civil Rights Movement in terms of musical accompaniment for the campaign for Scottish Independence so far. However, I thought I'd collect together some of the offerings of our musical fraternity about the Indyref. The top one, Dick Gaughan's Both Sides of the Tweed was originally written after the 1979 referendum for a Scottish Parliament was gerrymandered into failure by the UK Government. However, it's as relevant to the Indyref as the day it was written, especially as Fettered Together try to paint post-independence rUK Citizens as "Foreigners" (as if that was something derogatory). If anyone comes across any more, please let me know and I'll add them.
I'm not quite sure what's meant to be portrayed by Alex Salmond's unique representation in this video by Glasgow-based band Sparrow and the Workshop of their track The Faster You Spin, but he does seem to be treated differently to all the other politicians in the video. Answers on a postcard (or the comments bit below).
Regular readers may be surprised that this entry has nothing whatsoever to do with politics. There's more to life than politics and we all deserve a break. It's just about one of those bizarre situations you find yourself in when you least expect it. It's not as if we hadn't been warned. Well, come to think of it, I had been warned but had failed to pass the warning on to my companion; so perhaps a tinge of guilt and the emotion of the day colours the story.
His family and Scotland's musical fraternity said goodbye yesterday to the wonderful Nick Keir, a truly gentle man. There was a beautiful service at St Peter's in Lutton Place, followed by lunch and catching up with musical folk (who, as the great Alastair McDonald remarked, only seem to meet in daylight at weddings and funerals) in the Church Hall. This was followed by a traditional afternoon session in the bar of The Queen's Hall. Generally nothing beats the sound of Scotland's folkies saying goodbye to one of their own. However, on this occasion it was as if one light having been extinguished, another was flickering into life as Nick's oldest friend's young stepson twice blew the roof off the place with his exquisite talent. We will be hearing a lot more of him, I'm sure.
Anyhoo, back to the story. After the session, a hardcore repaired to that temple of traditional music, Sandy Bell's Bar. Monday not being a night we're usually out on the spree, we'd forgotten that early evening in Bell's on a Monday is training night and the fiddle learners' session was in full swing. OK so it's not Paganini, but there's something truly uplifting in hearing novice fiddlers of all ages determinedly bowing out the great Scottish tunes and the fact that it happens every Monday in a place like Bell's really lifts the soul, it's the Carrying Stream in full flow. It having been a long day, my companion took a load off on the periphery of the musicians and was happily listening and nursing her wine.
Come about quarter past seven, an odd collection of generally wee, older folk carrying an assortment of funny wee cases started to drift into the bar and 'hover' separately. I was reminded of the funny wee men with funny wee cases I used to see loitering furtively outside Belfast Freemasons' Hall, all pretending not to know each other, until the doors opened when they all rushed in hoping no-one else had seen them.
It was at this point I received the warning from a friend who is a regular 'after work', early evening Bell's punter. It went along the lines of: Make sure you're not out for a fag at half past seven, you've got to see this.
In the end, we were so deep in conversation I nearly missed it. In a feat of musical timing that would be the envy of many a West End musical director, the last tune came abruptly but perfectly to a halt bang on half past seven. With an obviously well-practiced dexterity, the fiddlers had their fiddles and bows in their cases before the strings had stopped ringing and were vacating the session table as if a tiger had just appeared from the ladies' loo.
In the blink of an eye, the eight or so fiddlers and their guitarist were replaced by no less than fourteen sexagenarian moothie players. Unfortunately, my companion was caught completely unawares by the onslaught. First came the squeak, then came the unmistakeable tones of my 'black affronted' companion. Nobody does black affronted like my companion after a couple of glasses of red wine. I turned round to find she had been unceremoniously shunted off her seat by a harmonica-playing harridan and I found myself having to physically shield her from the remonstrations of a couple of them for her temerity in not being out of her seat like Lynford Christie out of the starting blocks.
I was immediately reminded of a scene from Lawrence of Arabia. If you're ever at a loss for something to do in Edinburgh on a Monday night and can stomach the carnage of seeing the No Prisoners! scene re-enacted in milliseconds, head up to Sandy Bell's for 7:30. I'd suggest the bar stool by the coffee machine would give the best vantage point, while the pillar of the central arch affords some protection from the onslaught.
It
never entered our little Scottish heads that prayers should be said in
every Anglican parish the following Sunday, nor English clergy or lay-people be paraded on TV to say it wasn't
in their name. There weren't 3 days of rolling news coverage and there wasn't a week
of wall-to-wall press coverage.
We didn't go fire-bombing
English village halls or Anglican churches, nor did every Scotsman with
an IQ under 90 change his Facebook profile picture to a Saltire and take to
the streets. There were no calls for either the First Minister or Prime Minister to return from their holidays nor for yet other folk to be sent 'home'.
No Morris Dancers or their wives were assaulted in the street in
reprisal, no supermarkets were boycotted nor charities' names hijacked.
No merchandise was marketed, nor did any tone-deaf, wannabe pop stars try to cash in. No War Memorials were plastered with tacky tributes nor YouTube tribute videos made. Only one Facebook memorial page was created. At the time of writing, one has 114 results on Google News Search and the other 70,600. Another similar murder on 29th April returns 504 results.
Tog orm mo phìob is thèid mi dhachaigh
Is truagh leam fhìn mo lèir mar thachair;
Tog orm mo phìob 's mi air mo chràdh,
Mu Ruairidh Mòr, mu Ruairidh Mòr.
Tog orm mo phìob, tha mi sgìth
'S mar faigh mi i thèid mi dhachaigh;
Tog orm mo phìob, tha mi sgìth
'S mi air mo chràdh mu Ruairidh Mòr.
Tog orm mo phìob is thèid mi dhachaigh
Is truagh leam fhìn mo lèir mar thachair;
Clàrsach no pìob cha tog mo chridhe,
Cha bheò fear mo ghràidh-sa, Ruairidh Mòr.
The Canons' Gait pub, until Thursday best known as the home of some of the finest accoustic and traditional music available in Edinburgh, was not always known as the Canons' Gait.
Photo: www.scotlandsplaces.gov.uk
Its previous incarnation commemorated The Blue Blanket, the ancient banner run through the streets of Edinburgh to rally the citizenry in defence of their King, their Country and their Own Rights whenever any of these were assailed. By tradition, it was also flown from the walls of Jerusalem by a corps of Edinburgh crusaders during the First Crusade in 1099. The silken version of the banner was granted by James III in 1482 to the Hammermen (blacksmiths) of Edinburgh by a grateful King after they freed him from Edinburgh Castle where he had been imprisoned by 2 of his uncles and the uppity nobility.
The Edinburgh Mob has a long and fearsome history. So much so that on 5th April 1603 James VI gey near keiched his breeks on seeing the assembled crowd in the Canongate as he set off to inherit the Crown of England, but was pleasantly surprised to be cheered to the rafters. The Mob had seemingly been in douce retirement for 300 years since the riots following the sale of Scotland by a Parcel o' Rogues for personal profit by the Act of Union in 1707 (save a wee outing to lynch an over-zealous Captain of the Guard on 14 April 1736). The Edinburgh Mob came out of retirement on Thursday 16th May 2013 and, though Thursday's demonstrators would still have been in their perambulators when the pub's identity changed, I like to think that they rallied to The Blue Blanket honouring the ancient tradition.
The threat to our ancient Rights came when Nigel Farage MEP, in typical condescending Little Englander fashion, thought it would be a good idea to hold an impromptu pub press launch for his party's bid for the North East Scottish Parliamentary by-election in a pub on Edinburgh's Royal Mile rather than a pub in Aberdeen. Presumably the Head Honcho of the Little Englanders thought any part of Scotlandshire would do (they're all the same aren't they?). However, could you imagine him even contemplating launching a bid for a seat in Leeds from Birmingham?
Having suffered innumerable, fawning column inches over the previous week since the "Fruitcakes, Loonies and Closet Racists" became "respectable" in the Prime-Minister's eyes by taking @ 23% of the votes in the English local elections, it took the youngsters of the Radical Independence Campaign to challenge Farage and provoke UKIP into exposing themselves for what they really are:
The Canons' Gait returned to its more usual clientele last night for The World's Room / Seòmar an t-Saoghail traditional singing night and Steve Byrne of Malinky fame revived yet another old tradition with an excellent, ex-tempore Broadside Ballad about Thursday's shenanigans.
Aside from the odious nature of UKIP, on returning home I found a report on Facebook from a GP friend who is wont to work up in Wick from time to time which perhaps illustrates why they'll gain no traction in Scotland:
Back
in "terra firma" so to speak. There was a big police raid in Wick this
week with 12 illegal immigrants arrested. 10 were Indian 2 Chinese. The
Chinese restaurant is now closed and the two Indian restaurants just
about closed.
Scotland needs immigration. Telling an Englishman who lives in England to "Go home to England" is not a racist gibe - had he been an Englishman domiciled in Scotland then it would have been racist.
UKIP may well be irrelevant in Scotland, but while the union persists it is not irrelevant to Scotland. I salute the RIC's reincarnation of the Edinburgh Mob and their dutiful rallying to The Blue Blanket.
