Christmas presents

I'd really like to thank all my friends for the thoughtful presents they sent to me for Christmas. It was lovely to open all of them as I sat in my flat in Edinburgh.

* Mr Angus for the signed photo of him (unsigned)
* The Western Isles SNP for the glow in the dark Transformers pyjamas
* Lewis SNP for the matching Transformers slippers
* The Stornoway Gazette for the final draft of my press releases for January
* Donnie Gazette for writing my diary for publication in the New Year edition
* Kenny for the monogrammed castrating shears
* The Western Isles Young Scottish Nationalists for the Alex Salmond colouring book and crayons
* My office staff for the lavender scented handkerchief set and an annual membership of Club Ego, which appears to be some sort of male club
* Back Gaelic choir for the tuning fork and the book on solo singing
* The Convener of the Comhairle for the detailed map of Stornoway, with the Council buildings highlighted
* A full list of my forthcoming voting record for 2008 and beyond from Mr Alex
* A card from MWT wondering when I was going to deliver the promised windfarm referendum

In addition Rhona sent the wrong card to me. I'm not who it was intended for, but the very rude and filthy descriptions of her last visit to London meant I couldn't get past the first sentence without blushing. Her real card was forwarded to me by Mr Angus.

There may be more presents waiting for me in Lewis, but I will collect them when I travel there in February.

Queen's Christmas message

This time of year the only thing I want to do is to be with those I represent and love, so that we can enjoy the real meaning of Christmas.

I am therefore spending the three week long Xmas holidays in SNP HQ trying to catch the eye of Mr Alex in the hope he will speak to me.

Thankfully, I have not had to go to Stornaway for a few weeks and with any luck I won't need to go back there before February.

SNP HQ was showing the first version of the New Year message from Mr Alex on constant replay on every TV screen and computer monitor, and we were encouraged to compulsorily take a copy away and play it 3pm on Christmas day as a prelude to Mr Alex taking over the Scottish Broadcasting Corporation in time for next year.

Rumour has it that one of the members had made some comments about the film, but I know it cannot be true as his name is not in the record of members and his supposed desk has obviously been occupied by a "Mr Salmon Alexander" for a long time. I don't know quite why Mr Alex drew attention to the industrial shredder working overtime in the backyard during his speech about loyalty.

His rousing call to absolute obedience was met with ecstatic approval and applause every time the cue cards were lifted by Ms Nicola, whose friendly Rottweiler only savaged a few minor Councillors.

We pledged utter loyalty to the SNP before being taken for our annual appraisal, where after being strip searched and hosed-down we were given an audience with Mr Alex. I was rewarded for my unfailing unquestioning obedience by a promise that no part of the file kept by HQ would be released to anyone this year - I didn't know they had THOSE photos, and I am told that if I work hard in 2008, 2009 and 2010 I may be given the negatives.

MSPs met: 7
Dog bites: 1
Viewing of Mr Alex's message: 438

D*n*ld Tr*mp

As part of the Committee asked to investigate the golf course proposed for Aberdeenshire I value my independence of thought and clarity of thought and ability to understand and comprehend difficult and complex issues, with only the minimum of guidance from HQ.

Using the vast experience and understanding of the planning system that I have demonstrated in dealing with the Lewis Wind Farm proposal I am perfect for the key role I will play in the Committees deliberations.

I have already laid the ground for my future Chairmanship of this key Committee - now known as the Mary Trump Committee for Local Government Whitewash and Communities for Millionaires - by issuing the following statement:

Alasdair Allan calls on all MSPs, MPs, Councillors, Journalists and members of the public to desist from interfering in the crucial and independent Parliamentary investigation. At this time the making of scurrilous and unfounded allegations by Nicol Stephen and repeated by those who do not know the full facts will only prolong the anguish of those who have been falsely accused by muck-racking journalists reporting the facts. It is crucial that the Committee investigate the crucial documents that are being prepared at the moment and that the crucial decision to clear Mr Salmond is taken objectively and quickly, so that he can move on to ensuring that permission is granted to Mr Tramp.

Kenny tells me that this might be my finest hour. I modestly tell him that HQ had no input whatsoever to the final version of the press statement and that I have eaten and shredded the draft they sent and that I expect my abilities to be recognised in the next reshuffle, or perhaps the next decade.

Journalists spoken to: 3
Gaelic words spoken on Radio nan Gaidheal: 666
Snubs to local organisations: 1

Cllr Charles Nicholson

Cllr Nicholson is a newly elected Councillor on the Comhairle, but he and I are the victims of a most unpleasant, motiveless and malicious hoax.

I have known Cllr Nicholson for some time and I value his intelligence and his insights into the voluntary and youth sectors of the Western Isles which I am sure he will pass on to me if we ever meet.

Chazza, as he is known to everyone on the islands, is also a member of the Bridge Centre management committee and I have been told that at the most recent meeting he was fully supportive of the plan detailed in my letter below to allow me to open the centre, supported by the Minister, and to name the premises after the First Minister. However, this proposal was maliciously undermined by some of the other members of the committee who contrived to persuade Chas that this blog was in some way a spoof and that he should not pay any attention to my letter. Poor Chuck got into such a muddle that my proposal was was lost in what was obviously a pro-Unionist clique of windfarm supporters who are obviously all inbred cousins of The Donald.

On one of my occasional visits to Stornoway next year, I will be writing to Charles telling him that THIS IS NOT A SPOOF BLOG and that he should not listen to the imbeciles who suggest otherwise, and would he like to join my re-election campaign team. He can also become my second contact within the Comhairle to keep an eye on the SNP Group and report their mis-thoughts to me, so I can finalise the expulsion dossiers.

Blogs read: 1 (mine!)
Instructions received from HQ: 347 (All acted upon)
Contact from constituents: 0

Servicing

I received a message from Mr Bruce the Chief Whip that I have to attend a reprogramming course before Christmas as apparently I have been 'off message' in some areas.

We have a group hug in the office, and tears are shed as I consider the implications of the message, and fear and trepidation sets in. I cannot think why I am being called in as I have done everything that I have been asked and nothing more, absolutely nothing more. I think that I must be carrying the can for the Council not doing as I pleaded with them, and causing problems for the Government by asking questions, when they should know better.

Kenny passes me a note that reads "The office might be bugged by HQ" and we sneak outside and into his car to discuss matters in a fug of cigarette smoke and surrounded by fleeces and half-eaten guga suppers still in their wrappers. He has heard from reliable sources, that we are to be taken in to be reprogrammed to forget the words "Donald Trump" and to be taught how to avoid discussing the issue. This is frightening but I know it will be for the best, as the media (except for the ever reliable Stornoway Gazette) have acted irresponsibility on this matter, and I intend to table a motion in Parliament proposing their nationalisation under the direct editorial control of Mr Alex, which should solve these problems.

Gaelic words spoken: 745
Passive cigarettes smoked: 41
Days in power: 223

Bridge Centre - an open letter

Cllr Donald John MacSween
Point
Isle of Lewis
Europe
The World
The Milky Way
The Galaxy

Dear John

As I look out my office window on my occasional regular daily visits to the island the sun is blocked by the new building you are building on the building site across the road.

It has being built for a long time now, and it looks like it must be almost ready apart from the bits that aren't.

I am writing to advise that the Minister has gracefully accepted my invitation to open the new building you are building whenever it is completed, or on his next visit to the islands, whichever is most convenient for him and me.

Please let me know how graceful you are for all the funding provided by the SNP since when we were elected and how honoured the Committee will be to be allowed to call the building the Alex Salmond for First Minster Centre for Public Joy and Happiness. I have had a road sign made in anticipation.

Yours in the spirit of anti-Unionism

pp Alasdair Allan

p.s. Are you any relation to the Labour candidate?

Health Board review

Ms Nicola was in Stornoway today, and the smell of fear and excitement in the office was palpable.

Poor Alan spent most of the morning in the toilet, as his nerves seem to have got the better of him, and he was scared about meeting her. But so was I as the last time we had a Ministerial visit the Council tried to spoil it by discussing matters of policy when they had been told to just sit back and do as they are told and listen to the Minister. I met with the Vice-Convener of the Council and showed him the relevant instructions in my top-secret MSP handbook (SNP edition) which reads as follows

114. Backbench MSPs will not engage in independent thought.
115. During a Ministerial visit, you will not ask any questions, unless these have been provided to you before hand.

And I showed him the list of penalties for such Breaches which are contained in Appendix A and Appendix B and Appendix C.

Mr Angus inquired if Ms Nicola was going to be dressed as a nurse when she gave the Annual Review, but a loud growl from Rhona soon silenced him. Alan then gave a low growl and disappeared into the toilet with some hankies, as his stomach was obviously playing up again.

I took Ms Nicola and Mr Angus to the Health Board, with Ms Nicola guiding me in detail on the complex and long journey from the Airport. It is amazing that she knows the streets of Stornoway so well, but I suppose that is one of these things you must learn to become depute Leader, and I now know just how much more I have to study the street signs on my next visit to Stornoway. Ms Nicola even spoke to me as I drove as she humouressly inquired if I was ever going to get out of second gear.

I was allowed to carry her bags and sit in the corridor waiting for her and Mr Angus to finish the important business that they had, and the subsequent press release made it very clear that I had a key role in the whole process, whatever is actually going on, and that Ms Nicola would keep me fully informed about her decisions after she takes them.

But - Oh! Joy! - I was given a question to ask in Ms Nicola in the Parliament about her visit, which shows just how important I am to the process, even though I don't understand the detail fully

Q (Albert Allen) Can the Minster deign to update the Parliament on the calls for an independent inquiry into the finances of Western Isles Health Board?
A (Depute Leaderene Ms Sturgeon MSP) I am grateful to Mr Alan Angus for raising such an important matter. I haven't decided where to shift the blame to yet, but when I decide what I am doing, I will make sure that he gets the Press Release at the same time as everyone else.

Donnie at the Stornoway Gazette already has the headline set in 92 point bold "MSP saves Health Board" so I look forward to a triumphal issue on Thursday.

Gaelic words spoken: 47
Boxes of hankies used by Alan: 3
Wrong turns on trip from Airport to Health Board: 17

St Andrews Night

It is important that Scotland marks St Andrews Day in the manner advised by Mr Alex, as our national saint is important to the cultural heritage of Scots and anti-windfarm protesters alike.

Therefore, the local Branch have cancelled our annual St Andrews Night dinner and celebration as neither Mr Angus nor I could be bothered to attend.

Shortbread eaten: 1 slice
Drams of whisky consumed: None
Meetings with constituents: None

Advertising

I have decided to improve the advertising in the Stornoway Gazette for my surgeries by including contact details such as a phone number for constituents to reach me at Mr Angus' office.

I have also asked the Stornoway Gazette to ensure that the adverts are placed in the Public Notices section rather than the Livestock section, as I think more of my constituents will find it there.

This is in NO WAY connected to the comment by Voldemort on my previous advert. No in the slightest, as I haven't ever seen it or discussed it in detail, and I didn't encourage people to post dismissive comments, and I was always intending to add my phone number anyway.

Kenny tells me that because I have added the phone number, I will have to ensure the surgery adverts are carried the same week as my visit, so that the public will read about my triumphant visit after it has happened. He explains - reading from a memo - that Mr Angus has recommended that I do not interact with the public on a casual basis, as they may ask difficult questions and if I don't know the answers then I may only cause difficulties for him, and this was an explicit order.

After considering the matter for three seconds, I agree with the expert analysis.

Gaelic words spoken: 1149
Blogs read: None. I do not read any others and certainly not HIS.
Herbal tea consumed: 1 small cup

Sunday ferries

Alan reports that I am receiving lots of letters from those who are opposing the possible introduction of Sunday ferries to Lewis. It is clear that the Churches have so many people with exactly the same view on the issue that the letters are identical, except for the name and address obviously, and I am now convinced that they are in the majority as the letters tell me so. I have consulted widely with the SNP Group (Continuing) in the form of Cllr Murdo MacLeod, who authored many of the letters, and has advised me not to speak to the official SNP Group as they might simply confuse me.

I have decided to get fully behind the campaign by saying nothing to indicate my view on the issue one way or another. I'm considering pledging a referendum on the matter for my re-election campaign.

I have decided to write to the Minister to ask his advice on how to avoid this issue and get him to instruct CalMac to help me with this problem. Kenny points out that the Minister effectively owns CalMac, but I patiently explain to him that that is not how Ministerial non-accountability works.

I don't know why ferries are such a big issue. I see the ferry every week, as I fly over it on Parliamentary expenses. On the rare occasions that I am in Lewis over the weekend, I know that there are plenty of flights in and out to keep the public happy.

Letters received: 367 copies of the same anti-Sunday ferry letter
Calls from constituents: 1
Expenses claimed: £4,267

Seachd - the inaccessible film

When I launched my campaign to have Seachd adopted by BAFTA as the indigenous language film to represent the UK at the Oscars, many people thought I was jumping on a Gaelic bandwagon.

I asked a piercing and incisive question of the Minister

S3W-5072 - Alasdair Allan (Western Isles) (SNP) (Date Lodged 3 October 2007) : To ask the Scottish Executive what representations it has made to the British Academy of Film and Television Awards (BAFTA) about the criteria for nominations for Best Foreign Language film at the Oscars, in light of BAFTA’s decision to nominate no films in this category despite the Scottish Gaelic film, Seachd, being put forward for nomination.
Answered by Linda Fabiani (25 October 2007): I share the disappointment felt by many that Seachd was not put forward by BAFTA as the UK entry for the Best Foreign Language Film at the Oscars. Whilst the Scottish Government has no direct influence over the decision making process, the First Minister has written to BAFTA UK on this issue expressing our disappointment. I understand that the film has received many positive reviews and has been selected for the Rome and Vancouver Film Festivals, I wish it every success at these prestigious events and I hope audiences across Scotland, and more widely, continue to enjoy Seachd.

So it was clear that this tremendous film was an important milestone for the Gaelic language, and with my support and the popular acclaim in Scotland it was going far. So it proved this weekend when it achieved a monumental third place in the Scottish Baftas, beaten only by the two other nominees, and despite having disappeared from all public cinemas after extremely disappointing box offices. If only BAFTA had listen to me and Mr Alex and had put it forward for the Oscar's there would have been a real chance of the film beating the entries from Burkino Faso and Outer Mongolia to show just how important Gaelic is on the world stage and shown that we wouldn't look like idiots for supporting an unsuccessful, inaccessible and poor film.

I was so pleased with the outcome, I poured myself a small caffeine and tanin free tea, and went to bed early.

Gaelic films supported - 1
Grey suits owned - 3
Hair gel used - 1 tub (small)

Meeting with the Minister

I met with Mr Stewart this week to press home the case for the continuation of the Air Discount Scheme by asking him some difficult questions that he had written for me in advance.

As I told Kenny later, it all went downhill after the first question, "Your munificence, praise be to Salmond, can you please tell me what good news I can bring to the people of the Western Isles, who hold you in such high esteem, but still well below the awe in which they view our First Minister, and no mistake?"

"Shut it!", he said, "This is party political or you would have been invited to Victoria Quay to try to say something vaguely sensible in front of the civil servants. I'm going to have to answer the FoI request and you're going to be hung out to dry because of your failure to ask anything sensible."

At this I nearly choked, remembering Kenny's warning that Voldemort had been asking questions of the Executive about what I had done to ensure ADS would stay. I can't remember doing anything, so he shouldn't have anything to find, but somehow Kenny thinks this mights be bad.

"Smile!", he growled, "And issue this press release, and if you are lucky I might discuss ADS further within the department." And with that I was escorted out and into the lift. A huge
success for me, as I am sure the Gazette will report.

Ministers met (and touched!) - 1
Airmiles earned this month - 400
Gaelic words spoken to Minister and his minders - 0

The Budget

The budget was a rousing success, as I told Mr Angus so that he could issue a press statement about the events in the Chamber. Kenny was given a copy later, and changed it to include my name before sending it to the same journalists. And they say I play second fiddle to Mr Angus!

Mr John’s slogans and themes were ringing in my ears all last night as we new MSPs leftt he chamber chanting the snappy core message which encapuslates the promises Mr John will deliver, “Healthier, Wealthier, Faster, Smarter, Longer, Wider, Greener, Younger, Drier, Thinner, Soberer, Hungrier, Sunnier.”

He met everyone of my aspirations, it said in the press release that HQ have written for me, except for the absence of any mention of Gaelic. And not much money for RET. And nothing for the islands. And I really didn’t understand the rest, although the email sent to me before the announcement was very clear that I was to applaud when told to do so, and not talk to the press about anything I didn’t understand, which is why I have told Kenny to take messages from any journalists who phone, and not promise that I will return the call. Kenny laughed, “You think that they will call you?” which I think means he will filter the calls.

Gaelic TV

I am so very cross with the BBC for not supporting without reservation the creation of the digital Gaelic BBC channel that I can barely speak.

Kenny is raging, quietly, rocking gently in the window of the office and staring at passers by with a look of sheer anger and contempt. Some of the party members have already commented that Kenny reminds them of the Bates Motel, a reference I do not understand. He can only mumble a few words in Gaelic, mainly about sheep, and staggers out to have a fag every fifteen minutes. He is supposed to hand out leaflets to potential voters and to engage with potential voters but the fug of smoke and his incessant rambling, allied to the cursing and swearing about the latest developments, I feel may be counter productive.

Rhona is constantly phoning Mr Angus, and between giggles is loudly cursing in words I still cannot find in the dictionary in either English or Gaelic. Mr Angus is sure that the latest decision is a deliberate attempt to get at him, and he feels that an important, cutting and incisive press release might be necessary. Rhona will do that sometime next week, but in the meantime we have spoken to our mole in the Gazette who will ensure that our views are carried even before we issue the statement.

I intend to write to the Minister, in Gaelic, demanding that such public consultations are a nonsense and that he should respect the views of the majority as reflected in the opinion of the elected representative, irrespective of what others say, or common sense dictates, and without consideration of the cost to the public purse or the public good, or without considering legal obligations or financial constraints, and do as Mr Angus has promised his constituents he will deliver. Even though he was never in the position to do so, and hasn't really tried to achieve it, or met with the relevant bodies, or done much beyond issuing press releases.

I am so irate I will have to have another cup of camomile tea, which Rhona advises is very relaxing after a session with a politician. She is right as I snooze, satisfied, thinking of Mr Angus.

TV channels cancelled: 1
Angry Gaelic words spoken to Kenny: 23
Fags smoked by Kenny: 85 (full-strength with filters ripped off)

Satire

I'm appalled that the Stornoway Gazette has lowered itself to satire by employing a 'journalist' to write a satirical column supposedly written by me.

Any fool could tell that it was not written by me as it was too boring, dull, uninteresting, repetitive, tedious, tiresome, uninteresting, grey, dreary, a celebration of the mundane, fawning, repetitive, uninspiring, lacklustre, mind-numbing, repetitive, long-winded, banal, dreary, humdrum, monotonous, repetitive, vapid, pointless, stodgy, bromidic, repetitive, joyless, protracted, obtuse, moronic, repetitive, pompous, overblown, irritating, repetitive nonsense.

I had to check with Kenny that he had not cut and pasted my memos into an unauthorised press release to the Gazette, before I phoned to complain. Kenny confirmed that he would never dare allow anyone outside the office to see any of my memos to protect me from public contempt, and that taking the initiative was not in his job description. I was delighted to hear this as it meant that Mr Angus was still able to ensure that both Kenny and I did what he expected, and didn't do anything stupid like thinking for ourselves. We both sought confirmation from Rhona that we were doing the right thing, and after a very giggly whispered conversation with Mr Angus she told us that we were not in trouble. Not this week anyway.

Press releases issued by Mr Angus: 3
Cut and paste press releases with my name: 3
Conversations with journalists: 0

Welcome for Harris Tweed moves

Angus MacNeil Alasdair Allan welcomes the acquisition of the mill in Shawbost. Angus MacNeil Alasdair Alan has been working closely with Iain Tailor since yesterday and providing advice to Brain Wilson as and when he has required it to ensure that the deal went through.

Speaking from (fill in somewhere plausible) Lewis, Mr MacNeil Mr Allan said, I have spoken to weavers at some time in the past and I think this is a good thing.

This clearly demonstrates that Alex Salmond in his role as Leader of the SNP First Minister is having a direct and immediate impact on the economy of the Western Isles. Said Mr MacNeil Mr Allan, "Mr Salmond teleported to Shawbost at dawn on 4th May and has been working furiously on this deal 38 hours a day, whilst a body double and a holographic system has allowed him to appear to be in Edinburgh and other places."

"Mr Allan/Mr MacNeil [delete as applicable] has done a power of working behind the scenes in securing this deal since the day after it was announced, and I look forward to speaking to Ewen Taylor, when he comes to congratulate me on my efforts."

"Alex Salmond promised full employment for everyone in Scotland as Police Officers or Primary school teachers, and then taking Alasdair Morrison out of the ranks of the unemployed shows Mr Salmond's skill, dedication, commitment and utter compassion for those less fortunate in society. Let the plight of Mr Morrison be a warning to other who consider standing for the Labour Party."

Note for editors
For further information about the glorious role we played in this matter, please fax any other press releases to the office to let us claim the credit. [Gazette: You already have the script, thanks]

Naughty phone calls

Kenny is furious and is threatening not to answer the phone any more.

After my masterful appearance on Isles FM on Friday, and my promise that the 30 mile journey would be funded by RET, a lot of people have phoned asking what happens after the ferry reaches the 30 mile point? And do they have to swim the last 20 miles or are CalMac going to charge £100 per car for the final leg?

It was simple mistake to make, after all how am I expected to know anything about ferries or distances or travel when I have only ever flown over the ferry on my expenses paid travel. And seen it tied up at night in Stornoway once, when I was looking at street signs.

I tell Kenny to get back to work, as I am writing a letter to JK Rowling wanting to know why she hasn't published her book in Gaelic yet, and asking for a translation for Voldemort.

Incessantly ringing phones: 3
Distance across the Minch: 50 miles
Gaelic translations of Harry Potter: Zero

The local media

I am almost apoplectic this week with anger at the Stornoway Gazette, Isles FM and the West Highland Free Press for reporting such glaring lies about what I am supposed to have done or said.

The WHFP, which as everyone knows is the mouthpiece of Brian Wilson who you think would know better after Mr Alex won the election despite the WHFP offering no support to any SNP candidates in any way. I know that Brian Wilson left the House of Commons after becoming bored with sitting on the backbenches and being unable to influence Government policy. How pathetic is that. I will be happy to stay on the backbenches for the rest of my life and do exactly what I am told without any expectation of influencing Government policy, which is precisely the difference between Brian Wilson and I!

Last week they printed a mischievously, wrong and totally false story about my attempts to get Voldemort ("He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named") expelled from the SNP using as evidence nothing more than some of the emails I sent to SNP HQ based on stories told to Cathy MacInnes by her husband who just happens to be the Chief Reporter in the Stornoway Gazette. That my claims were without substance is neither here nor there, as the emails clearly demonstrate that the facts were not the issue. How dare they use these emails which were private, confidential and embarassing and without giving me the chance to make any comment about the matter to set the record straight. That I refuse to answer questions on the matter is not the point.

I was so angry about that horrible behaviour by the WHFP to use facts to prove a case, that when I was told by Bunter that Voldemort had been on Isles FM, and may have talked about some things that were less than complementary about my role in his expulsion. Bunter told me that he thought Voldemort had said other things that attacked the SNP but he couldn't remember them but that I should say something about it. I was so furious that I had to get Alan to phone and plead with the directors to allow me to get the chance to put my case. How dare they not tell me how their guests are going to be so that I can decide if they need to prevent them coming on air before we know what they are going to say.

The threats worked. Alan was in tears after nearly five minutes of trying to talk to the directors, so I went for the nuclear option (at this point I would like to make clear that I am anti-nuclear, and totally in favour of renewable energy, as long as it is in someone else's constituency, so I'm not going to say that I went for the wind turbine option, am I?) and told the directors of Isles FM that the sponsor of the most popular programme on their radio station was threatening to withdraw. Yes, Calum Murdo had told me that after the failure to allow me the chance to respond he was thinking about cancelling his long standing support for "Sheep disease of the day" which is broadcast at 5am in the prime slot for crofters, insomniacs and those trying to catch the ferry. That told them!

But before I could sort it all out the Stornoway Gazette had the nerve to deny my claim to SNP HQ that they had leaked information to me about the voting intentions of Voldemort. How dare they! Everyone knows that Donnie MacInnes was passing all the political stories to me, and now this junior reporter who wrote the story is denying that he told me anything. Has he no sense. He's just getting his boss deeper and deeper in trouble, as I didn't lie in the email I sent to HQ telling third hand stories that had no basis in fact. If only anyone knew where Mr Angus was, we could get him to tell us what to say, but there has been no sign of him for many weeks.

With the WHFP and the Gazette both attacking me, poor Alan is constantly sobbing, and I had had to send him home before the office is flooded or before Kenny hits him, again.

Everything went well on Isles FM until Mr X asked me for the details of how RET would work, and I had to stall him which I did magnificently by feigning complete ignorance of the detail of any such scheme or how it would work or how much it would cost or where it would operate, were it to ever be borught in which it might be soon. Not one bit of detail did he manage to get from me, except that the 30 mile crossing over the Minch would probably at some time possibly get RET, but not necessarily at a level equal to the tariff on an equivalent road.

Mr X then had the cheek to point out that the ferry crossing was actually 48 miles, as if he was trying to prove how little I knew about the subject. Alan cried all the way home, as I kept my temper under control by driving at no more than 15 miles per hour, even on the straight bits of road.

Bad journalists: 3
Good journalists: 0
Gaelic swearwords learnt: 1 (but not used!)

A wonderful conference

Mr Alex was so good this week, he just couldn't put a foot wrong and he is such an inspiration to all the members of the SNP, and the general public, and all the voters, and their children and their children's children, and the Diplomats from Qatar, Zimbabwe, Vanuatu and Cardiff, and the people in England who haven't yet got the opportunity to vote for Mr Alex, and the people of the European Union who should make sure Mr Alex gets a seat at the top table, where they will all hang on his every word. Just like I do.

Mr Alex acknowledged my presence many times, looking in my general direction more than once, and clearly looking straight through me whilst speaking from the podium. His speech was so good that I didn't need the electric shock from the implant to encourage me to stand up and give a spontaneous round of applause as we were all trained to do right through the week and as the special delegates agenda clearly instructed us to do. There were only four spontaneous rounds of applause scheduled for the week, but we actually managed five, without serious repercussions.

The Conference carried on into the Sunday, and the fact that the Western Isles SNP had previously mandated the party never to hold a Conference on the Sunday was abandoned in the wild celebrations and spontaneous partying as men wept with joy and women beat their breasts
at every sight of Mr Alex. Well, at least Alan and I wept uncontrollably on each other's shoulders for hours at a time.

Mr Angus and Rhona were busy together most of the time, with Mr Angus having a lot of letters to write, and Rhona having to go to his Suite for most of the Conference. Whatever work had to be done was obviously very successful as both of them were smiling and winking at each other all through the rest of the Conference.

As Conference closed the word spread though the hall that at the conclusion of his speech six women in Glasgow had spontaneously given birth to twins and that all twelve children had been named 'Alex' in his honour. His sporting feats seem to emulate Kim Il-Sung of North Korea, as I was reliably informed that on Thursday he had skied all the way from the top of the Cairngorms to the conference in under five minutes, despite never having skied before, and that he had achieved a hole-in-one on every hole at the local crazy golf course, a feat never before managed by any mere mortal.

As Mr Alex left the hall, a spontaneous group of women (Edinburgh SNP ladies section) spontaneously laid petals in a carpet for him to walk from the hall, and cast lilies, roses and daffodils in front of him as he walked imperiously to where we who are not worthy
were waiting so that he could grace us with his presence.

I left the hall totally overwhelmed, and when Mr Bruce told me that I would be lodging a spontaneously written motion, which he had written for me earlier, to the next session of Parliament calling on Mr Alex to be given the title of 'Divine Being, and Ruler of the Known Galaxies, and Glasgow' and become First Minister for life I could barely contain my excitement. So it was an urgent visit to the toilets and I was glad I had taken some clean underwear with me.

I collected Kenny from the bar where he had spent the entire week reciting to other delegates the complete list of ear markings in sheep from Ness to Barvas, or comharra-cluais as it is known in Gaelic. After four days, he had only reached the description of the practices in Dell, and was very disappointed to have to stop so soon without giving a full listing of the families and the crofts they owned since records were kept, but the various new friends he had made seem to have had to make their excuses and leave after only five minutes.

So back to Edinburgh tomorrow, where I will receive the motion that Kenny will type up from the instructions dictated by HQ, and my future is secured.

Spontaneous action undertaken, as instructed: 27
Gaelic words spoken: 555
Hankies need laundered due to tears of joy: 3

Annual Conference

This week is an exciting time for me as we have the Annual SNP Conference which is held every year. As someone who is now important, I will probably get a seat somewhere near the front and a big badge with my name on it, reading "Alasdair Allan", so that people can call me by my name, rather than just ignoring me as they have in the past.

Kenny phoned today to tell me that my room was confirmed, and that I was to be in the hotel next to the hotel next to the hotel where the conference was to be held. It is so exciting to be at the centre of everything, and to see the seat of power. Which is not, as Kenny says, Mr Alex's bum as he walks past.

Kenny has got me a special premium single room above the kitchens with a view of the largest car park, and apparently there isn't much noise from there in the room after midnight; but I'll be long asleep by then.

Mr Angus has been booked a special room which befits his status as a senior figure in the party, doing what he is told in a proper fashion, and a major influence on telling Mr Alex how good he is at being leader.

Kenny tells me that Mr Angus has a suite with enough room for four people and storage for a set of bagpipes to keep him straight. I have no idea what he is talking about, but Rhona stapled his hand to the desk, so I suspect that he is being rude again.

I see that 12 of my colleagues have signed my motion giving an accolade to Mr Alex, and I hope he will see us as his 12 disciples and reward our forthright and outspoken flattery.

Mr Bruce tells me that I will be moving a motion at Conference, and that I will receive the speech later, but I must read it exactly as written, even if I don't understand any of it. How I laugh and tell him that is what I do in the Chamber every day.

Gaelic words spoken: 779
Photographs in the Stornoway Gazette: 1
Bad words about me in the West Highland Free Press: too many to count

My staff

As befits someone of my status and ability, I have decided to do the best for the islands by employing staff who have the ability to undertake the work I instruct them to do in the appropriate fashion, or when Mr Angus phones, to drop everything and do as he says, and write brief concise press releases from me, as dictated to them by Mr Angus.

After much searching on the mainland, I appointed Graeme from Stonehaven to the Edinburgh post and Alan from Glasgow as my local eyes and ears in the islands. Despite not advertising anywhere not one person from the Western Isles applied for the posts I had already shortlisted, requiring the basic skills of being young, male, single, Gaelic speaking (except for Graeme) and with no connection to the islands other than having worked for my campaign. I was delighted when I was given the list of names by SNP HQ from which to recruit, which saved me the bother of having to consider ability or party loyalty in appointing an acolyte.

Both Graeme and Alan are nice young men, and Alan has settled into the Stornoway office quickly with the witty banter between him and leading Kenny to comment very favourably on our humour that "It is like working with Larry Grayson and John Inman". How Alan and I giggled like young girls at his flattery!

Gaelic words spoken: 998
Press releases written on my behalf by HQ: 19
Press releases reported anywhere: 1

New wave power development

I am appalled that nPower and Wavegen have had the temerity to bring forward a wave power scheme for the west coast of Lewis, without involving Mr Angus and I in a campaign against such a development. I have already spoken in Gaelic with one person who opposes this scheme as it might affect the view as he drives to his holiday home in Ness, and I intend to write to the Minister to express the extreme opposition of my constituents to this proposal. I will also provide him with a Gaelic translation of my letter, so that Mr Gordon Brown is not seen to be the only politician who can write letters in Gaelic.

The devilish scheme may very well have the support of the entire community, and provide innumerable benefits to the islands, the fishermen and pleasure boat users but there is no good reasons for building upside-down turbines in the sea other than as the thin end of the wedge to develop and build upside-down turbines on land in an effort to confuse me, and to try and sneak the wind farm through the Government.

I am now immediately officially launching a major campaign provisionally called "Seabeds without Turbines" in a blaze of publicity by writing a short note to the community councils asking them to phone me if they have the time to discuss how they can launch this campaign.

OOOOH! I am so angry.

Gaelic words spoken in a raised voice: 364
Cups of lemon and rosehip tea sipped: 1
Renewable energy projects opposed: Not enough!

National Mod

I'm off to the Royal National Mod in Fort William as a member of the Back Gaelic Choir, where lots of people will speak Gaelic, and all the newspapers, television programmes, menus, street signs, road signs, weather reports, tourist advice, programmes and shops are all in Gaelic. Heaven; and I hope no-one will spoil it by speaking in English, and I written to Mr Alex requesting a 'Total Exclusion Zone' be set-up around An Gearasdan (as it is properly called) to ensure that those speaking other languages are kept out.

The choir are staying in the centre of An Gearasdan and I have been given my own room in Camusnagaul overlooking An Gearasdan, albeit on the other side of Loch Lochy and a mere 25 miles away.

Mr Angus still has a house in An Gearasdan and whilst I am not allowed to stay there, or even visit with an explicit invitation in writing he is going to stay there when he visits the Mod. He obviously has a lot of important parliamentary business to attend to as Rhona is scheduled to be there too to help write some letters. According to Kenny, there is some important Ugandan issues that need to be resolved by Mr Angus.

Gaelic words spoken: 11,339
Strange looks from passers-by: 46
Buses caught: 3

Press release

I am so proud that Mr Alex has asked me to put my name to a Press Release that the press office have written. As he said to me, "You there, are you a MSP? Good, you'll do", which left me positively weak about the knees that he has recognised my brilliance and intelligence, and obviously the motion that I have placed into the Parliament has been brought to his attention, which has left him highly impressed as he added, "You're Allan the sycophant, aren't you?"

I am to be told how to lead the attack on the Lib-Dems over farming subsidies, whatever they are, to allow Mr Alex to attack Labour because of something that happened in London. Mr Angus calls to shout at me that he is the Rural Affairs spokesman and how dare I tread on his toes, but I explain that I am just doing what Mr Alex has told me and he goes quiet.

In the end he tells me that he is going to issue the press release in his name, with a quote from me at the end, and after Kenny phones me to say that Rhona is on the rampage in the Constituency Office about the matter waving a pair of castration pliers and screaming at the top of her voice, I agree to Mr Angus' detailed instructions.

Mr Alex and Mr Angus speak to the press, and I hold my press conference in Gaelic as instructed by Mr Angus in the Lobby of the MacDonald Holyrood Hotel. Unfortunately no journalists turn up and I am told to move on by the Concierge. I did think 3am was a funny time for a press conference.

Gaelic words spoken: 357
Irate phone calls from Rhona: 7
Admiring glances at Mr Alex: 43

Accomodation costs

A journalist has asked me for a quote, I'm famous, someone knows who I am. Perhaps now the other MSPs will stop thinking I am the message boy and will stop asking me to get them a coffee.

I am asked for my view on the use of accommodation allowances for MSPs and I have an opinion which I am prepared to give, after I check with Mr Bruce that I am allowed to say what I think, or at least I am allowed to say what he thinks I should think. Mr Bruce's most junior assistant tells me what to say, and I memorise the words carefully to make sure I get it right.

I claim the moral high ground by pointing out that I am not using the Parliamentary allowances to buy a flat, preferring to rent. He swallows the story and I appear in print yesterday hopefully not looking too smug or scantimonious.

The story about renting is of course an excellent cover, which my landlord Donald John and I have concocted, as I wouldn't be allowed to buy a property given that I already own a property in East Lothian, which is under 30 miles from the parliament, and which I could drive carefully in under two hours.

I'm sure that with practice I could get up to almost 40 MPH on the A1, cutting my commuting time to under 90 minutes, but in the meantime I am able to get a rent from a property and have the Parliament pay a friend for another flat all within the rules. I just have to make sure that no-one in Gordon the Western Isles finds out what is going on.

Mugs of hot chocolate: 2 (I'm celebrating my fame)
Press releases drafted: 37
Press releases issued: 1

Photo in Gazette

Today's Stornoway Gazette has a lovely photo of me with the longest serving member and the youngest member in the Western Isles. Jean Brannigan has been a member since 1942 and Fergus MacPherson (the son of my election agent in Uist) is only 4 years old.

No-one mentions the fact that he wears nappies, cannot write his own name and has little idea who I am, and I suspect that Mrs Brannigan has the same issues, but we take the photo with me smiling as vacantly as one can when faced with voters who don't understand the importance of Gaelic in setting the tone for geo-political negotiations in the future.

Back in the office Kenny loves the photo and gives it the caption "Aon Tir, aon Canan, aon Daoine" which I explain to Mr Bruce later translates as "One land, one language, one people". I still have no idea why he asked me if I was a member of Combat 18.

Gaelic words spoken: 237
Hair gel used: 1 small tub
Councillors snubbed: 3

Seachd: Inaccessible Pinnacle

How dare BAFTA refuse to put this film forward for an Oscar.

It may be badly written and directed, with poor sound and camera work, and the director's daughter might have had a major role in the film, and it might have no chance of recouping the taxpayers money invested in it, and BAFTA may have had two meetings before deciding that neither it nor the Welsh film were good enough to represent the UK, and I haven't actually seen it, and probably very few in the UK ever will, but...

It is in Gaelic and stars a constituent so it should have been nominated as the best foreign language film despite its many failings. And Gaelic not being a foreign language.

Press releases: 1
Phones calls from Kenny: 3
Pager instructions obeyed: 34

Windy Alexander

I neatly skewered Mrs Alexander in committee today, and my incisive dialecticism and debating skills will no doubt be much discussed in the communties in the Western Isles for many a long day.

I look again in admiration at my words: "Would it be helpful perhaps to write to Ms Alexander to say that perhaps it would save herself some trouble in the future if people quoting discussions from committee bothered to find out what was actually said."

Wow, just how good am I, and with barely a lot of briefing from Mr Bruce I was able to get most of the phrases he told me to use in much the right order.

How could the Convener dare to say it wasn't a point of order, and try to accuse me of political point scoring when I never voted from him and he refused to speak to me in Gaelic.

Gaelic words spoken: 734
Cups of tea drunk: 1
Bowel motions: 3

An interesting book

Rhona has lent me an autobiography which she promises I will learn a lot from.

Ms Jones was apparently a very important Welsh Nationalist whose writings use allegories about underwear, cigarettes and wine as metaphors for the failure of Westminister to deliver the needs, requirements and yes rights of the people of Scotland and Wales. And the failure to address the issue of the Gaelic and Welsh languages. Except in the case of Welsh obviously.

I am wildly enthused by her writing, to the extent of reading the book until I was very tired (after 10pm!), and I have decided to use her trademark writings as an aide memoire to myself to demonstrate my successes.

Gaelic words used: 4365
New party slogans learned off by heart: 3
Glasses of wine: none (obviously!)

How hard I work

I wrote a serious letter to the Parliamentary Committee explaining just how hard I work and why I need more money to be able to bring the Gaelic language to the unsuspecting voters in the Western Isles.

I was supported in this righteous, and totally not self-serving, campaign by George Fuchs who I am told is a stalwart supporter of the Whisky industry, and once was someone important. He agreed with me that MSPs did much more work than MPs and should have bigger allowances to make us appear much more important.

Kenny was very supportive as he typed my press release, "You and George are so much more important than any MP", he said. I'm looking forward to telling Mr Angus about my new friend.

My speech

The education authorities in the Western Isles have annoyed me more than a little by their strange demands that I abide by protocol and do not encourage the teachers to revolt against their employers.

Today I made a speech in the Parliament, and a very good one it was too said many people who didn't hear it. Reading it again later I am very pleased with the quality of what was written for me by the Government and superbly printed by my assistant.

Speaking about the needs of the secondary education sector, I studiously avoided any reference to the Western Isles or the current problems there and I most certainly DID NOT make any kind of special pleading for the Comhairle and the problems that there are with dropping pupil numbers and too many schools and the schools needing major building work.

To make sure that the Education Department got the message, I didn't contact the Council ahead of the debate to get any kind of information or to see what I could do to assist them. Now they know who is in charge in the Western Isles!

I go out to celebrate my new found mental strength, hitting the Royal Mile pubs in a debauched manner for a small ginger beer before I catch a bus home in time to watch Reporting Scotland. And so to bed.

An interesting letter

The Director of Education has told the Headteachers to ignore my letter.

How dare he?! Mr Alex is in charge of education in the Western Isles (although he has allowed Miss Fiona to make some decisions), and I am allowed to make decisions press releases on his behalf.

Apparently it is not right to write to the Teachers encouraging them to think about doing something about the possibility that the schools might close. How ridiculous that an MSP cannot suggest to Headteachers that they might want to consider phoning me, if they have nothing better to do. The Director is making it sound like I am trying to stir them into opposing the Council’s action, and suggesting that they ignore both the unions and the consultative programme.

How ridiculous! I know nothing about the consultation process, and I don’t see why the unions should have the monopoly on representing staff. In the new Scotland there is no need for unions, as Mr Alex will look after the workers, and make sure that people like the Director don’t act so badly towards their staff.

I mean, it’s not like I’m suggesting armed insurrection, strike action or even a petition. Or even a meeting with the department. There is no need for any such vigorous action when there is the possibility of a meeting that might substitute for action.

I will instruct Kenny to write another letter, reminding the Director that I am the MSP, and he is a lowly public employee, answerable to taxpayers like me.

Schools closure

The repercussions of the visit of Miss Fiona to the schools in the Western Isles continue!

It serves the Comhairle right after their insulting behaviour to Miss Fiona and I. Mr MacLeod – who claims to be the Director of Education – and Mrs Munro – who claims to be the Chair – was terribly rude to Miss Fiona by sitting outside the school classrooms and the staff rooms as she toured the schools. Why should they expect to be invited into schools, when there was barely enough room for Miss Fiona, her PA, her assistant, me, two photographers and assorted other civil servants? Although Miss Fiona told them to sit outside she didn’t mean for them to be so rude as to tell the media, their colleagues and the Comhairle that weren’t welcome.

I am just about convinced that the closures of the schools is probably a bad idea, mostly, but certainly telling the press about it was a big mistake by the Comhairle. I am going to campaign, moderately vigorously, for the parents and teachers to meet and consider being unhappy that the Council was following Government policy in improving schooling and saving money.

I am writing to the Headteachers to get them to mobilise the parents to oppose the cuts, and I have asked them to phone me if they are sufficiently outraged, and we can see if I can arrange a meeting at some point to discuss the matter further.

That will show the Council who is the King of the Jungle!

Miss Fiona sends a message that I must in no circumstances suggest that the Council should get more money for any reason, and Mr Bruce phones to remind me nicely that I must do as told.

How I laugh into my cocoa at the suggestion that I might do something to stir up the public.

Being in Government

Back to the heady business of Government this week, after a mere eight weeks holiday.

I feel so proud and important to be such a tiny little cog in the important machinery of Mr Alex’s Government, and I am happy to do as instructed to ensure the smooth running of the Parliament.

I am summoned to meet Mr Bruce, who apparently is Chief Whipper, and he reminds me of that Mr Alex and him are watching my every move. I feel to honoured to have both these important men taking care of me at every step of the way, that the least I can do is promised – cross my heart, and hope to die – that I will be pleased to do exactly as they tell me.

I ask Kenny later what a Chief Whipper does. He tells me that Mr Angus has more experience in that field than he does, but he gave me a phone number for Miss Fifi for the next time I am in London.

Postcard from North Rona

After six weeks' holiday from my four weeks in the Parliament I am exhausted and need a break. After all I have spent nearly a fortnight in the Islands and that is more than one could reasonably ask of an incomer. I need to get away from journalists who too often ask me difficult questions without also giving me the answer.

In order to show my concern about these outsiders from Edinburgh affecting the Guga hunt, I decided to book myself a trip to oversee the hunt and ensure that Gaelic was spoken throughout the process.

I got Kenny to make the travel arrangements and he gave me a big wink as he handed me the tickets, saying "I've made special arrangements for you". After two flights and a mere six hours, I was pleasantly surprised to find that Rhona was a beautiful city with old buildings, narrow cobbled streets and an old Gaelic culture. As I sat in a pavement cafe, waiting for the boat from Ness to reach the main port in North Rona, known locally as Riga, I took stock of my daring and earth shaking stance against those who would undermine the Gaelic culture into which I wasn't born.

After a couple of hours, the boat hadn't arrived, so I checked into the hotel that Kenny had arranged for me. The lovely hotel was called "Madame Olenska's Chicken Ranch" and featured lots of low energy red bulbs beneath which some under-dressed and local Islanders tried to converse to me in their primitive Gaelic. Luckily, Kenny had booked me on the special guest's package which involved a visit to cellar bars on a half hourly basis, followed by a visit to a Tigh Ceilidh in which some of our new residents to the Islands entertained us. I did not know that the Poles were such good dancers and wore such skimpy costumes.

Kenny has apparently arranged some extras with my Parliamentary allowance and the post-it note said "You have to get near a woman at least once" but I was not really in the mood for a full body massage as I was deeply concerned at the absence of Gaelic broadcasting on the local TV station.

After a week the boat with the Guga hunters has still not arrived, and I telephoned Kenny for an update, and he told me to do what Mr Angus would do in these circumstances with a freebie pass to the assorted fleshpots of Orkney. I laughed and promised to keep my jacket on the entire time, not really understanding what he meant.

As the boat has not arrived, I am heading home to Edinburgh where I will write a letter about people from the mainland telling people in the Western Isles how to act.

Preserve a guga

The wild vegetarians of Edinburgh have tried to stop the Guga hunt in Ness.

Do they not realise that the mad Morrisons of Ness have hunted Guga since time immemorial, and that the interference of yet another lunatic from Edinburgh pretending to know what is best for the islands and oozing mock empathy will do nothing but alienate the community.

I have therefore pledged my support to those who want to strangle the young chicks with their bare hands, despite the attacks from the parent birds, and then resell the pickled carcasses for £40,000 as I believe this is a necessary food supply for the islands. Given that the Co-op has run out of kangaroo steaks, ravens tongues, and savoury penguin penises that form the staple of the diet in Ness.

However, to demonstrate my dynamic thrusting self, I have today written to the head gannet on North Rona asking whether he wishes me to write to the Minister, in Gaelic, on his behalf. Kenny has promised to ensure that the letter is delivered by the fishermen, as he described it "With maximum prejudice". I look forward to the reply, and Kenny reassures me that the response will be clear and "very tasty".

The happiest days of my life...

Today Ms Fiona took me took carry her bags around some schools in Lewis. Ms Fiona is a lovely lady, with a placid temperament, and the ability to melt stones at 50 paces with just one glance.

Kenny said that "Ms Fiona" sounds like the kind of lady Mr Angus has spent too much time with, and Mrs Angus hasn't found out about yet. I don't understand what he means, so he does a spanking motion to help me understand, which I don't.

Going back to the schools reminded me of my fantastic time in Ashkirk Primary School, which was actually located 10 miles away from Ashkirk, and to which I was sent as a boarder from an early age (6 months). My teacher was the fantastic Mrs Donaldina Goatstrangler (nee Morrison), who had learned her teaching skills in a lunatic asylum in Gdansk (as she regularly told me after a few bottles of Whyte and MacKay, formerly called Danzig; renamed Jif during the Indo-Polish hostilities of the 1640's; and, later conquered by the Aztecs in the 1870's and renamed Quezequazazocoatal. According to Matron [Mrs Goatstrangler] as she gave me my daily bedbath, the Aztecs bequeathed the love of the letter "z" and frequent human sacrifices to the Poles, which is why I should never speak to anyone with a "z" in their name. See my previous post on Stephen the former MSP.)

Mrs Goatstrangler was the sole teacher, nurse, matron, head teacher, administrator, secretary, bed warmer and she instilled in me my love of the Gaelic language. Miss Morrison, as she became known, used to gustily sing Eilean A'Cheo when happy, lonely, lovelorn or drunk. Although it was difficult to tell which of the four moods she was in, and I used to think that they were one and the same. It took fewer than ten beatings before I could sing it fluently, and at that time I resolved that no child would be left behind in my campaign to reintroduce Gaelic to all schools in Scotland. My phrase was later stolen by Mr Bush, who I understand reprehensibly speaks NO Gaelic.

The fear of the headmistress came back to me today when visiting each school, Ms Fiona told Mrs Munro and Mr MacLeod to sit outside the staff room whilst she went to speak to the children and the teachers and I was allowed to carry her bag into the room. I was so glad that I no longer faced the weekly punishment for misbehaviour that Miss Morrison used to inflict on my thin skull with the hereditary family peat iron, although I am none the worse for it.

Mrs Munro and Mr MacLeod have something to do with the Council, I am told, and when Ms Fiona screamed at them that they shouldn't have talked about 'cuts' when she had an important photocall to arrange, I could hear Mrs Munro's bun rattle as her head shook.

They had the temerity to ask to discuss educational issues! On a photo opportunity!! Ms Fiona put them right, and I added, "You should know better. I'm going to tell the press that your talk of cuts might be not right, and may affect my standing in the public view, so I will be writing to the Minister (Ms Fiona) to suggest that it might be better to think about considering to do something. After all, I went to a single teacher school, and look at how it made me the decisive, incisive person I am today."

Mrs Munro and Mr MacLeod cringed at my invective.

I'm glad that I have nothing to do with that Council and I want nothing to do with them taking any decisions, when I have to sort out their mistakes.

Referenda

That's the correct name for more than one, and not 'referendums' as some boring pedants would have it.

My former, former, former, employer Mike Russell has told me that he will not permit a referendum on the windfarms as it will set a precedent elsewhere. I have tried to persuade him he is wrong, using my now trusty phrase to "battle hard" for election promises to be adhered to, but he is not listening to me yet.

I know that democracy is vitally important, and that the democratically expressed will of the people is the most single important thing, and one we must defend to the hilt. That is why the democratically expressed will of the Scottish people to elect representatives for the magnificent four year plan for the Great Peoples March to Independence is so important.

This was no better demonstrated that the brilliant decision by Steven Tymkewycz Stephen Timkezwzyzcz Stevaan Tzizyzmzkzezwzyzcz Ztzezfzazn Tymkewycz the East European MSP to stand down after I demanded he speak to me in Gaelic. As he said himself in his incisive resignation email, "I'd rather sit on Edinburgh Council, look after my 15 flats, and do something useful, than be a useless piece of lobotomised lobby fodder."

To ensure the triumph of democracy, I have decided to once again ignore Comhairle nan Eilean Siar and all the planning decisions that they have taken and might take, and instead I will instigate a grass roots campaign to hold referenda across all the Community Council areas in Lewis. I'm going to write to them all, when they are formed after the elections, assuming they are actually formed, and get them considering whether to come on-board with my brilliant campaign.

Kenny is typing my first letter to them, asking them for suggestions for the questions and opinions they might want me to hold were there to be a demand from me to hold a referendum on the planning applications, given that the Executive won't hold to my promises. I have made it clear to them that they can hold a referendum at their own cost, instead of undertaking vital community developments, but that until I agree the questions will produce the answer I want, or even if there are to be questions, I will not allow them to squander their time and money on this matter.

This will show the Labour Party what leadership really is, and that I do know how to spend other people's money just as well as they do, and I know they will be cringing in their houses tonight when they hear of my brilliant new idea.

The letter needs some editing, as Kenny's drafts always do, and I am sure that I will find a better heading than "Dumb and dumber".

What I did on my holidays

Donnie MacInnes at the Stornoway Gazette suggested to me to write an article about my holidays in the Western Isles for the benefit of the readers, so that they could find out who I was.

His wife, Cathy, kindly passed on the message at the Branch meeting, over which she presides as Chairperson, and advised me to make it as controversial as I possibly could as Donnie would ensure that it was printed unedited. I am only to eager to oblige the Gazette, which is showing its true independence and balanced stance by inviting all the constituency MSPs for the Western Isles to contribute on an equal footing. I bet none of the others have had as exciting a holiday as I did!

It was very nice to see some islands that I have never seen before, having had to travel in the boot of Mr Angus' car on previous occasions and only being able to see the clouds in the sky. This time I travelled first class at the public expense and stayed in some Bed & Breakfast establishments and even caught the ferry by myself.

It was very exciting to be recognised by one person in Uist, and even more exciting to find out that he was an SNP Councillor. I rushed back to the Bed & Breakfast for a refreshing cup of tea and phoned Kenny to change my travel arrangements in the hope that another person would recognise me here.

In order to introduce myself to the public, I decided to wait at the ferry terminals and bus stops and approach anyone standing around, addressing them in Gaelic. In answer to the usual response of "What the f...", I was in a position to recite the entire SNP manifesto, verbatim, which they seemed to enjoy. They certainly were unable to move much after the first five minutes.

I listed, in gripping detail, the pledges for transport, the Gaelic language, speeding, sheep movements, drinking whilst in charge of a peat iron, economic policy and espeically the inter-relationship between the ECB, Westminster and an independent Scotland (although I did get a bit confused here with most of the terminology), Gaelic Broadcasting, Gaelic signposts, defence policy, the proposed compulsory bilingual services for the broadcasting of Big Brother live on E4, how the SNP would demand the repatriation of the English mink, Gaelic salmon farming and why Mr Alex was to be the next first King of Scotland.

Tired after that, I retired to the Bed & Breakfast, from which the owners seem to have gone on holiday until after I leave, and lay down in my full-body Noddy suit to sleep before the stress of the next day.

Mr Angus says he can now employ someone on my behalf in Edinburgh, and having carefully considered the short leet he gave to me, I have selected the single name he suggested. I am sure they are very good, and will do exactly as he tells them. It's good to see job creation in Edinburgh, as there are so many unemployable people that I mix with everyday in the Parliament.

Ferry fares

Mr John came to Stornoway today, which was very exciting for me and Mr Angus, as it proves to the doubters that we do actually visit Stornoway occasionally. After under an hour, we managed to find the SNP Office, with only some help from the map I keep in my pocket.

Kenny had issued the press release to everybody except the Labour Chair of Transport, Mr Manfield, who is dangerous as he thinks for himself. Mr Alex keeps promising Mr Angus that he will ensure that Mr Manfield has an implant, soon, but I fear Mr Manfield is beyond help.

Mr John had a stunning announcement (which I know to spell, it was Kenny that got it wrong, as usual) that he would be asking for a survey for someone to look at whether cutting ferry fares would be a good idea. If it proves not too expensive then Mr John might think about considering whether to do anything about the survey, and promises that he will then call for a report into the survey.

There! That will show the Labour Party that we are dynamic and forward thinking, and their claims of delay and prevarication are nothing short of scandalous.

Mr Angus said I read his press release very well, and it was very nice of me to praise him so highly. I asked Kenny for details of the campaign for lower fares Mr Angus has been in the forefront of for the past two years. He advised me that the details were so confidential that they were never released to anyone, and that if he told me he would have to kill me.

"When would I like the papers?", he asked, sharpening the office paper knife to allow him to cut the ream of paper in half with one nonchalant movement of his wrist.

Mr John wanted to go and see the devil tower manufacturing facility at Arnish. I placed myself into a trance to avoid contamination by the nacelles, and thankfully no-one noticed the difference.

To celebrate the success of today, I have adjourned for a celebratory drink. A large cocoa and my knitted dressing gown make this evening special.

New office

Mr Angus has very thoughtfully allowed me to use his office on Bayhead to advertise that I exist.

For a special rate he has permitted me to attach a single piece of A4 to the window for a short while on the grounds that "I wouldn't want anyone to think I've got anything to do with you."

Kenny promised to answer all the phone calls with the reassuring promise that if they were "Important or interesting" he would ask Mr Angus to deal with them before passing them to me.

He has obviously been doing his job very well, as not one single important matter has come my way yet!

Harry Potter

I had just finished colouring in my Thunderbirds book, without going beyond the lines, when I suddenly realised that I had nothing in the house to read.

I had read An Gruffalò, twice in the original Gaelic, and most of the rest of Acair's output was looking well worn and sorry for itself, when I heard about a new Harry Potter book being printed.

I know, I'll write to the publishers and ask them to publish me a copy in Gaelic so that I can understand what is going on. Well, I would if they sent me a summary of previous books, so I would know who was who.

Kenny issued a press release on my behalf pointing out that the publishers were acting like fascists to the public in the Western Isles by creating an pseudo-apartheid state by not issuing "Tha Harrie Potter agam". I had to reprimand him severely for getting my name wrong, and I mumbled "I am not Draco Allan" at him, to force the correction.

He applauded my press release saying "Angus Peter Campbell will have your nuts for supporting the local writers." Rhona growled pleasantly at him for this good advice.

Wind farms

A rude journalist phones me to ask about the Public Inquiry at Eishken.

How dare he know about this, when Mr Alex and Mr Angus have told me nothing about this trivial matter.

I tell him that I know nothing and if it was at all important then Mr Alex or Mr Angus would have told me what to think and say rather than, as he appallingly suggested, leaving me in the dark looking stupid and ill-informed. That told him.

Wind farms as an idea are stupid, as they will destroy the Gaelic culture and result in depopulation of the islands, as they told me at the last MWT meeting. I was deeply impressed by the number of pensioners who had moved here from the South of England and wanted to preserve Gaelic, as long as they didn't have to speak it, or hear it spoken. The told me that their new houses would depreciate in value dramatically as tourists were thrown into the turbines by Councillors as part of a satanic ritual.

I was deeply impressed by their sincerity and posh accents, having been a tourist here until -- well I still am!

Drove back to the rented house, slowly and carefully, pondering the fate of "That little bustard" that they kept talking about.

Dangerous driving

I should apologise to all my constituents for my actions. I really hope they never find out about my dangerous and criminal activities.

I was so excited about reporting to the Branch that I had spoken to Mr Alex that I lost all concentration on the road and the car accelerated to almost 30MPH on the straight stretch of road between Tong and Newmarket. Luckily there is no speed limit there, or I could have lost my licence or possibly be the victim of a major motorway pile-up or been the target of the armed traffic vigilantes that Kenny tells me roam that area.

I knew that there were speed humps coming up, so I slowed down to just over 10MPH with barely a mile to spare, and kept at that speed despite the horns of the Ambulance behind tempting me to break the laws. No siree.

I was so mortified and embarrassed when I reached the SNP office, that I hope no-one could tell by my face that I was nearly a major criminal.

A question

Yesterday Mr Alex spoke to me, and allowed me to ask him a question in the Parliament. His secretary was very helpful in typing it our for me and removing the big words that Mr Alex had used to replace them with words I could simultaneously translate into Gaelic and then re-translate before I spoke.

The clever thought process slowed my speaking slightly, but it confused the enemy other parties who attempted to distract Mr Alex by shouting "Who's the imbecile?"

He answered my question very cleverly and carefully using all the big words his secretary had written at the bottom of the page after my question. I was very impressed and gave him a standing ovation.

Afterwards he personally thanked me for such a clever and incisive contribution, and in a witty response to the enemy Labour Party he muttered "Who's the imbecile?" to the Whips.

A special parcel

Collected Recorded Delivery package. It a special delivery from Mr Alex!!!!

After a lie down, given the excitement, I open the package to find the special chip that I must implant under my skin to help me in the Parliament. Apparently I mustn’t tell anyone, and I have a special pass to explain that I have an artificial hip and that is why the metal detectors are set off.

According to the instructions, it will glow green when I have to applaud Mr Alex, bright red when I must phone for instructions, and delivers 2000 volts straight to the nervous system in the event of any signs of dissent. A quick look in the dictionary to check the meaning of 'dissent' assures me I have nothing to worry about.

Mr Angus phones to tell me that after a few weeks I will hear voices telling me what to say and how to vote, but not to worry as he will make sure it sounds like his voice. How comforting and thoughtful of him.

More excitement

Back from Edinburgh for the first weekend in Lewis, after only four weeks away, and into the temporary rented accommodation. Very excitedly open all the letters addressed to Allan Allen MSP.

Invites to judge the bonnie Guga contest in Ness, an invitation to discuss funding constraints with the Achmore Pier committee, and a cut price subscription offer to the People’s Friend, and one recorded delivery slip. Not bad for four weeks mail, and resolve to write to the Minister about the lack of nursery provision for baby Guga in Ness and the Transport Minister about the lack of RoRo facilites at Achmore. When I find out who the Ministers are. Note to self, must ask someone to ask someone who knows Mr Alex to get me the list of Ministers.

More excitement

Mr Angus calls to tell me to go to Edinburgh.

I reach the office in Stornoway where he instructs me that from now on I will obey “Mr Alex”, except where Mr Angus says otherwise. This is so exciting, having two people to tell me what to do and think.

Kenny, the Press officer, mutters ”Angus is so far up Alex, that it doesn’t matter”, but before I can quiz him further for an explanation, Rhona hits him with a poster tube and he falls silent. On the floor.

Today I go on a plane to Edinburgh. I am getting moist around the gusset with the excitement.

Exciting news

Mr MacNeil phoned me tonight to tell me I might have been ‘elected’ as a MSP. I thought he was phoning to sack me, so I was very relieved.

I got out of my Power Ranger pyjamas, dressed and into the car and drove to Stornoway.

Mr MacNeil was right – as always, he is so clever and wise – and tells me what to say, as Albert Morrison gracefully selects me to replace him.

Mr MacNeil tells me that I am a success, and as a mark of this I no longer have to call him “Mr MacNeil”, but instead I am allowed to call him “Mr Angus”. I am so pleased that my status has gone up so rapidly. I have another cup of Horlicks to celebrate and go to bed.