Promotion

The other Mr Angus, who sits in the other Parliament - oh, why does this all have to be so confusing - has phoned to tell me that I am to be promoted to trainee apprentice junior Minister for inter-galactic activities, space Gaelic and inter-planetary activities. This will entitle me to sit outside the meetings of important people and possibly be allowed to carry their bags to and from the important meetings.

Apparently, the other Mr Angus is going to announce that RAF Lossiemouth, which is in his Constituency is to be designated the new worldwide space launch pad for virgins and that the first flights will take place next year, unless the evil Mr Brown once again lets loose the hordes of pestilence infected Labour MPs to plunder the Scottish Government safes and steal all our money. In which case the scheme will be funded by Laird Trump of Tong building a universe-class golf course on the moon, for which planning permission has already been granted, but only after he applies, not withstanding the objections of SNH, the RSPB and China. He has already promised that (Harris Golf Club) Open will be staged there in 2010, or after he finishes building the 14,000 houses, executive villas, and tax-avoiding penthouses; subject only to the Bank of Scotland, Stornoway, advancing an interest-free 250% mortgage on the deemed notional value of the finished development before he starts.

Anyway, the other Mr Angus tells me that as I am the most obvious person to meet the criteria for launching virgins, I am to be ready for the full announcement next week and I must be ready to rename all the seas on the moon, all the atmospheric conditions and all the asteroids in Gaelic, and I am to do nothing but vote as instructed until the full announcement is made.

I am so proud to be on the very first flight of the very first spacecraft to funded using the Scottish Futures Trust, and no-one should pay any attention to the fact that the dog and the chimpanzee both withdrew from the project due to concerns about safety.

I cannot tell anyone what is happening, but I will make sure that my legacy lives on by defining authoritatively all 37,369 known asteroids in Gaelic! This will keep me quiet and busy for some time, but such is the price of achievement! I put on my Thunderbirds slippers to celebrate.

Steps up the political ladder: 1 (soon, soon!)
Asteroids named an diugh: 2
Constituents seen: None (I'm too busy)

No fairies in this house!

I have just finished putting up the Christmas tree, and just in time as I was given the present from Mr Alex as I tried to leave Edinburgh with explicit instructions that it was to go on the tree immediately.

Inside the present is a Santa, with the face of Mr Alex, along with a Christmas card that I have to send back to Mr Alex. The Santa is wonderful, with a swivelling head, eyes that seem to look at you constantly, but it could do with much more padding around the waist if it is to look realistic.

I place the Santa on the top of the tree, as there are no fairies in this house, and I would swear that the eyes follow me about. I have opened the card and there is a tab to show exactly where I am to sign. The wonderful Christmas festive message is clear....

Merry Christmas
I hereby authorise you to read my emails, listen to my telephone calls,
open my post, read my private files, bug my home, office and car
And a Happy New Year
and take such other steps as are necessary to ensure that I
do exactly as I am told
Ane Folk, Ane Scotia, Ane Alex

Sign here

As I sign the card and put a stamp on it, the Santa seems to let out a laugh, but nothing for me to worry about! I tramp along the road to see Gordon Diesel to post the letter and buy a variety pack of Kellogg's single serving breakfast cereals. For me, there is nothing more exciting than putting my hand in the cupboard in the morning and not knowing if I will have Coco Pops or Ricicles for breakfast. They are in stock; which is just as well, or Mr Angus and I would have to speak to the Minister and dmeand that somone else arrange a Summit to discuss the matter!

And so to bed, with a small glass of ribena and a good book - the Horrid Henry Omnibus. Note to self, must complain about this not being available in Gaelic.

Constituents spoken to: 1 (Gordon Diesel, but he doesn't really count)
Christmas cards written: 7 (Mr Alex, Ms Nicola, Mr John, Mr Angus, Mr Jim, Mr Bruce and special Alex)
Expenses claims submitted: £7,645.34 for the last quarter

Postmen

I am away from work for almost six weeks, so I had to come to Lewis for at least some of the time.

When I get to the office, Kenny has his head down avoiding my gaze, which told me with my innate political sense, gained from years of doing exactly what Mr Alex told me to do, that something was wrong.

Rhona pulled me aside and told me that I had a full diary for the next few weeks, as it was important that the electorate was able to recognise me when I stand for reselection by the Branch. "Some of the members don't think you spend enough time doing enough for the Constituency, and want you to be seen to do things that help the voters", she said, handing me a list of appointments I have to keep.

I sat down beside Kenny, both of us facing the wall which allows us to pass notes and whisper without Rhona knowing.

"Don't listen to her", said Kenny, taking a bite from his salt mutton panini on rye, with mayo, and moving his slice of cormorant and potato tart slightly to the left as it was starting to permanently stain the desk, "The Branch are much less happy than she lets on, and she won't forget your failure over the Marybank factory. Fancy a fag?"

As we sat in the car he outlined today's appointments, uncreasing the list by lightly pressing it between a chinese takeaway tin and his collie, "Your first mission, should you choose to accept it," he said expectorating gently into the back seat to the Mission Impossible theme, "Is to bring joy and glad to the postmen of the island."

It was with great anticipation that I went to the sorting office - would I see Padraig Post there? Would Jess be in his van? Is Mrs Goggins really that helpful? I know they speak Gaelic as I have often seen them on BBC2 early in the morning as I am sitting waiting for my daily instructions from Mr Alex.

I am taken around by Padraig's assistant, a very helpful Mr MacArthur, who I know very well having met him for the first time today, who kept telling me that Padraig and Jess would be back any moment. Sadly Mrs Goggins was having a day off, but the postmen encouraged me to write her a note which they promised would have pride of place in her office, when she returned.

Padraig and Jess never did appear, as it turned out he was on the St Kilda run, and after six hours of walking around the mail room I drove home to watch another documentary about their busy lives, and dream of what could have been.

I put on my glow in the dark Scooby Doo pyjamas, checked for instructions from Mr Alex, and went to bed looking forward to another productive and exciting day tomorrow.

Constituents met: 14 postmen, but not Padraig
Press releases issued: 1
Blessings of Mr Alex bestowed upon the public: 1

Fuel consultation

With fuel prices rising rapidly, and the public unable to afford to drive or heat their houses I have finally relented and agreed to try to do something about it.

Mr Angus had previously suggested a fuel regulator, which I think was something to do with restricting the flow of profits from the public to the oil companies, but he was never able to explain to me how this would work and I couldn't understand the detailed economics that he explained to me.

I have today launched a consultation which I am going to send to every house in the Western Isles to try to understand the priorities of the public as regards fuel. Kenny facetiously suggested that I could talk to some members of the public, but I dismissed that idea as being plain silly and not as good as a press release.

As the consultation is being paid for by public money, it must be objective, fair, impartial and non-political. I have already cleared the answers with the Minister, as I don't want to get any results that might cause Mr Alex any problems.

Kenny, Rhona and I spent literally minutes on the questions, and I am working on a Gaelic translation which will be issued next year.

Q1. Given that the Labour Party are causing the massive rise in fuel prices, causing wholescale genocide of the poor, the elderly and drivers, not seen since the days of Stalin, do you think I should do something? yes/no

Q2. Any idea what I should do? (max 15 words, and no bad language)

Q3. The SNP propose to reduce the price of everything, but especially oil, without it costing anybody a single penny. Do you agree that Mr Alex is doing a fantastic job? yes/definitely/absolutely

Q4. Would you like this questionnaire in Gaelic? tha/yes

Q5. I promise to raise this matter in Parliament, in strident tones, but with limited expectation of success, as the Minister has already told me that there is no chance of anything happening. Do you support the SNP policy of widespread consultation with the public on matters that aren't going to be affected by the consultation, as a symbol of the commitment to symbolism that a new Scotland will have when it symbolically discusses matters outwith its control? yes/of course/probably

Q6. Do you recognise me? yes/no/who are you?

I have passed the questionnaire to my press officer, Donnie Gazette, who has already written a brilliant article for the local paper extolling the merits and significance of the results that we will get in the next few weeks, and outling the decisive action I am going to take by raising this with the Minister, taking account of the answer he has already told me I am going to get.

I head home, satisfied at having completed such a major political coup and having outwitted Labour yet again.

Gaelic words spoken: 139
Price of petrol: is it £1.75 a pint?
Constituents met: 1

Protecting jobs

The crisis in the salmon processing industry has caused Mr Angus and I to spring into action only ten days after the problem came to our notice. (Phoning around, Kenny found Mr Angus in a Thai restaurant interviewing a young lady for the post of assistant under-MP)

I met with the workers yesterday, which the Gazette reported under the headline "Fearful staff meet with MSP", and I didn't really mean to scare them that much with my detailed and careful advice on the matter.

I explained that I had written to the Minister, in Gaelic, to ensure that he was aware that I thought that closing the factory was a bad idea. I made it very clear to him that all the workers were born and bred in the islands and were fluent Gaelic speakers to a man or woman, and that if the factory closed they would be out of a job. I emphasised that it is important that no foreigners are involved in either the operation or management of the company, and that it was created by local Gaelic speakers.

My thirty second speech was met with the traditional throwing of knives and fish guts, most of which just missed me, as the workers showed their support for my position.

I then opened up for questions from the floor, and the first one was from a Labour activist who asked if I intended to lobby the Minister directly, and seek public sector support to ensure that the factory would continue. Speaking slowly, so he would understand, I explained that one only lobbied SNP Ministers when they had given you permission and intended to support you. Under the circumstances i.e. that the jobs were going to the Ministers constituency, it was not within my remit to lobby the Minister.

Calling halt to the extensive questioning at that point, I collected Kenny from the canteen where he was enjoying a plate salmon tartare, and a salmon caviar roll, which I reminded him was disrespectful to Mr Alex, and we exited the building before the bucket of salmon blood and guts could be pushed to the car in a celebratory drenching, to show their support for my position.

After dropping Kenny off at the office, I drove home, slightly faster than usual in case I was followed (25mph), and phoned Mr Angus to advise him to avoid the factory at all costs.

Letters written to Minister: 1
Phone calls from Minister telling me to 'butt out': 3
Smell of fish from my clothes: extensive and pervasive

Lighthouse California

Rhona cornered Kenny and I in the office, and made us sit in the corner whilst she explained some political realities to us.

Her husband, Billy "Bunter" MacDonald, works at the Lighthouse California factory and the owners are going to close it. What were Mr Angus and I going to do about this outrageous action?

Billy is apparently second in charge of the assistants clipboard for noting down messages received on the telephone and as such is very self-important, and mustn't be sacked.

Kenny spoke up, taking out his strip of kipper jerky and laying it aside for later consumption, and explained that he had already issued a press release on behalf of Mr Angus announcing that Mr Angus had rescued the factory and all the employees from penury and certain unemployment, and that Mr Angus would be meeting with management to explain to them just how to run the factory profitably.

Kenny had not been able to tell Rhona or me about this had he had not been able to reach Mr Angus to tell him what to say. Apparently Mr Angus was incommunicado in either a Cambodian paddy field, or a Thai massage parlour, Kenny wasn't sure which as Mr Angus hadn't been clear about his plans.

I promised Rhona that I would personally meet with the staff, if she could show me where the factory was, and explain that Mr Angus, ably assisted by I, would make sure no bad publicity came out of this whole sorry matter. I reminded her that the secure future of the factory had already been forecast by The Eagles, when they wrote "You can clock on, but you will never leave."

I will await detailed instructions from Mr Angus on what to do, but I seriously thinking about writing to someone about this.

Kipper jerky eaten: Nil
Threats from Rhona: 7
Thai knocking shops phoned by Kenny: 17

Car rally

I spent all day at the Stornoway car rally watching the racers drive at very high speed, making sharp turns and reversing into very tight places.

I was amazed at how fast they can go, and I must confess I got very dizzy at the excitement and sense of danger as they whizzed through the crowds oblivious to the risk to their own lives.

I went to renew my ticket, 20p for 1 hour was so very reasonable, and I asked the man standing beside the ticket machine just how long it was going to carry on for. "All day", he said, "This is Percival Square car park!"

Constituents spoken to: 1
People who recognised me: none
Highest speed reached in 'Dorothy', my trusty green Micra: 14 mph (I managed second gear!)

Outrageous comments

Voldemort has done it this time!

Kenny phoned to say that he was alleging that a politician on the island was gay, and that to protect my reputation he had arranged for the entire SNP branch (Murdo MacLeod, Donald Murdo MacLeod, Angus MacLeod, Leod MacLeod, Angus B MacNeil Murdo MacLean, Mary MacLeod, Mary Murdo MacLeod, Angusina MacLeod, Donaldina Angusina MacLeod, Murdina Donaldina MacLean and Timotheous MacLeod Jnr) to post comments denying that I was in any way gay!

I was so angry that I wept copiously into my silk Cinderella dressing gown.

I am not attracted to men in any way whatsoever. Nor am I attracted to women for that matter, except senile old women who like to hold me their bosom when I visit the retirement homes to explain in Gaelic why Mr Alex will ensure that the major socio-economic and demographic changes that he will personally ensure will happen will ensure that the children they can barely remember having will return to carry them on commodes of gold to the new palaces that the SNP will build for them on the shores of Loch Achmore, where the fleet of steamers bringing the exiles home will dock. Such a speech is usually appreciated with a rousing round of nose picking, loud appreciative farting and at least one resident passing out and losing their teeth.

Nor am I attracted in any way to mammals. Nor to marsupials. Nor to invertebrates. And certainly not to fish; fresh water or sea living.

Voldemort must now pay for making Kenny suspect me, and I have phoned HQ to get them to do anything and everything about it in a way that I can disown.

Thereafter, I will continue to lead a life of only slight sanctimonious piety as a veritable monk amongst the fallen, gazing onto the unwashed and unappreciative hordes as they vote me back in with ever increasing majorities, surrounded by a coterie of lightly oiled dusky young male party workers, specially flown in from Brazil to help me around the house by looking after my every whim.

Such lovely thoughts to take to bed. I just hope Alex and his 'girlfriend' are thinking of me too.

Pyjamas worn: Blue Dangermouse ones
Bottles of baby oil bought: 7
Constituents spoken to: None

Fisherman's AGM

Mr Angus told me that I had to go to Lochmaddy, which is in North Uist, for the Annual General Meeting of the Western Isles Fisherman's Association.

I had hoped that Captain Birdseye would be there, as I wanted to thank him for making some excellent fish-fingers which I often eat daily with ketchup and precisely 25 frozen peas, to ensure my five a day intake of vegetables. I send Mr Alex a monthly report on my diet, to show that I take the business of politics very seriously, and provide him with details and diagrams of my bowel motions, which record and chart weekly for size, density, colour and smell. Surprisingly, none of my colleagues seem to do this, which will certainly mark me out when the next reshuffle takes place and I will have a chance of becoming assistant apprentice junior under-secretary assistant with special responsibility for Gaelic books.

I was met at the door by the Chairman who asked who I was, and when I explained he reassuringly told me that I would fit in perfectly as I was an 'odd fish', which is most definitely a compliment coming from a fisherman.

I listened carefully to the detailed debates on prawns, nets, seaweed and how to catch kippers for a mere 4 hours, nudging Mr Angus occasionally to keep him awake. I took plenty of notes for both Mr Angus and I, but looking back at the notes I have absolutely no idea what they were talking about. I will ask Kenny to write a press release as he knows more about this than I do.

At the end of the meeting I had to speak so I told all the fishermen about Mr Alex's plan to personally ensure that all the fish were allowed to be caught only by local boats and that he was working literally 24 hours a day 7 days a week to ensure that the prawns were no smaller than 1 stone each. They were stunned by my revelations, and as I read the speech that was carefully written for me by Kenny, they were rapt and open-mouthed as I recited the landings for 1996 by species, port and weight and compared then to the landings for 2006 clearly showing that the Labour Party had been wholly responsible for the reduction in fish in the sea as clearly shown by the statistics for megrim landed at Northbay, namely; in 1996 2 megrim were landed by FV "Bottom Wind" CY99 weighing a total of 17lbs whilst in 2006 only 1 megrim was landed by the local boat "Seniorita Esperanza MacNeil" CY99 weighing a total of 15lbs. This clearly shows that Jack McConnell and Alasdair Morrison had deliberately destroyed the fishing leaving fishermen impoverished, children without food on the table and mothers destitute and having to sell their bodies and babies to passing tourists on the pier at Castlebay in order to fund a passage, steerage class, to Glasgow where they would have to work in domestic service for fifty years as part of the new Highland Clearances.

I was able to reassure them that landings this year included 17 boxes of fresh smoked mackerel straight to the Co-op, up from 16 the year before, indicating that the SNP would deliver on it's policy of 'fish for everyone, whether they like it or not.'

Then Mr Angus regaled the audience with stories of catching crabs. The first story was of his youth in Barra, when he built the first million-pound trawler ever seen on the west coast out of old fish boxes and bits of machinery lying around the croft, and how he used to dive without oxygen for hours at a time hand picking the crabs for shipping to the finest restaurants in the world. The second story had something to do with Amsterdam, a German woman, and liberal doses of ointment.

Shortly after, Mr Angus had to go away as he had something 'hooked', and left with a young lady he met in the bar who presumably was driving him to his next appointment.

I had to catch the ferry, and headed for Lewis. As I sat on the ferry I entertained all the fishermen with my stories, certainly they were laughing at everything I said. As we docked, one of the skippers said "I hear you like bottom fishing when you are in Edinburgh. Do you often get bites on your worm?", which just goes to show how little attention he paid to my stories.

As the last bus had already gone, I stood on the main road and thumbed a lift back to Stornoway, waving to all the fishermen as they drove past, whilst I stood in the drizzle waiting for a car to come along. I was back in Back within three hours, after another successful day.

Fishermen spoken to: 23
Lifts thumbed: 2
Speeches read without many mistakes: 1

Tesco

Kenny is just back from the new supermarket that has opened in Stornoway. Apparently they are called 'Tesco' and they have stores everywhere like Inverness, Wick and as far afield as Perth.

Kenny has long been a stalwart of the Cross Stores, who do his staple foods such as 40 Embassy, McCain Oven Ready Hedgehog rings, seagull drumstick skewers, Paralytic Piper whisky and red diesel.

Rhona had instructed him to go to the Tesco to buy supplies for the office and he hands over the 27-pack of extra-value extra-thin toilet roll, a jar of Tesco value Barra coffee - grown with the finest Arabica beans on the west facing slopes of the island - Tesco value sugar (reduced in price due to being slightly damp), a box of 240 tea-bags, a bottle of mint julep Domestos, and 72 'Blu-loo' tablets. Rhona hands over the £1.72 from petty cash, and I keep the receipt to claim against my expenses. The copy receipt is put onto Mr Angus' desk for him to claim also.

Conspiratorially, Kenny pulls me out to the car by my sleeve, where I sit in a fug of Embassy smoke and on a pile of dog-ends that are some two feet deep. Kenny always changes his car when the dog-ends reach to the roof.

He opens a second Tesco bag and he eyes open with wonder as he shows me his purchases. He drools slightly, but that is normal, so I pay attention to what he has bought, and even I am taken aback at the range of produce the new shop has.

• Roast badger and wildcat cheese baguette
• Hooper swan bhajis
• Pickled herring in chilli flavoured Castrol GTX
• Polar bear jerky
• Larks tongues (bags of 20)
  
• Thin cut dolphin slices
  
• Silverside of Polar Bear
  
• Penguin wings in aspic

He drags me to the back of the car and opens the boot to show me a 5 gallon value pack of Tesco "Old Bombay" whisky. "£7.50", he muttered, "Now go tell the headmistress that I have a migraine and I've gone home early. This little lot", he said stroking the drum and grinning lasciviously at the food, "will probably see me through the weekend." With that he pressed a package into my hands, closed the boot and sped off leaving nothing but the faint air of Embassy and a mountain of fag ash to show that he had ever been there.

As I went back to the office to type up his press releases and do his filing, I looked into the package and I forgave him for the toxic fumes and spittle on my lapels. It is just so long since I had the circular slices of ham with a smiling face made out of contrasting processed ham. What a wonderful day. I shall have a tin of alphabetti spaghetti with it to celebrate.

Time to wash smell of smoke off me: 2 hours
Highest speed on the way home: 27 mph (well I was excited)
Message spelt with alphabetti spaghetti: Alex Salmond is the best Kenni is veri nice Rona is a

Glasgow East

Mr Angus and I were instructed to abandon any pretence of being busy and to attend the by-election in Glasgow. Apparently this was called after a Labour MP became ill due to Parliament looking at his expenses. The election is being held in Parkhead, which Mr Angus says is as good as a visit to the Vatican for him.

Mr Angus and I have been given different responsibilities during this election campaign, as requested by Mr Angus, so that I am looking after the young men and he looks after the young women.

We have each been given different canvassing responsibilities in different areas. Each morning Mr Angus sets off with a couple of young ladies and comes back much later, exhausted after all the work he has done.

Each morning I pick up my special canvassing papers and set out alone on a high priority task specially given to me by HQ to make best used of my skills, ability and personality. Yesterday I was canvassing in Bearsden, today it was a four hour hitch to Gretna, and tomorrow I am scheduled to cover Aberdeen. Despite repeated questioning, HQ refuse to divulge the reasons for my travel to outlying parts of the constituency, except to say that they are too Top Secret for even me to know about.

I have met the candidate, Mason John, and I break the ice by telling him how useless the SNP Councillors are in the Western Isles and hoping that he doesn't have to ever work with any Councillors. I expound my view that Councillors should not be expected to have any chance to ever become elected politicians as none of them have any knowledge of the real world of hard work, in PR or journalism, or being a special junior assistant to a backbench MSP. It was shortly after this that I was allocated the special task.

I have worn out two pairs of shoes, or more precisely the left shoe of both pairs, but as they were identical pairs I am now campaigning with two right shoes on, which makes turning corners easier.

I have been recognised by many people this week, some of them were even not MSPs, and I am looking forward to getting home and writing their names into my special diary and adding them to my Christmas card list.

Doors canvassed: 1,968
Doors answered: 1 (campaign headquarters!)
Names on Christmas card list: 3

Computers handed back

Rhona has taken complete charge of the office and we have been without computers for some time as she has taken the issues of computer security very very seriously.

Shortly after replacing Mr Angus' assistant who shame remain nameless (Rhona) she decided that all the email messages that she had sent and received and the pictures on the computer were 'inappropriate' and they had to be removed. Neither Kenny nor I were allowed near Rhona's computer during the entire process, but the constant stream of tutting, gasps and other disapproving sounds indicated that the contents of the hard drive were not as they should be. After three days, Rhona announced that she would have to clean the inbox and outbox on Mr Angus' computers and hired specialists to remove all traces of the photographs.

Mr Angus was up in arms at this suggestion, instructing me to tell Rhona that he was not allowing it to happen, especially not the removal of the photos as he had nowhere else to store them and if he had to take them home and Mrs Jane found them, then there would be trouble.

After a quick call to Mr Alex by Rhona who explained the nature and content of the hard drives, and the briefest of conversations between Mr Alex and Mr Angus, his computers were collected by security men the following morning, sealed, and transported away. A call from London indicated that his computers there had also been impounded. Later that day, Rhona also changed our passwords - pending 'cleansing' - and awaited further instructions.

After merely three weeks the specialists had managed to virtually purge almost every incriminating item of evidence, and Rhona was instructed to start on our computers. I was lucky, as apart from a few accidental page views of some sites I came across purely by accident and returned to only a few times, there was nothing on my computer, as all the good stuff is at home.

Later that day, Rhona froze Kenny with a strong glare and sought an explanation of why he was downloading dirty pictures onto a Government computer. Kenny swore profusely and went outside for five cigarettes, returning 10 minutes later to explain that they were research in case any further accusations were made against Mr Angus. Rhona pursed her lips into a tight line and banged her fist so hard on the desk that the photocopier flew off. Kenny slipped out for another 10 cigarettes, which he smoked simultaneously and was back five minutes later to confess that he was the one who subscribed online to "Sheep and shepherd", "Suits ewe, Sir", "Tractor fancier", the politics section of the Guardian and "Sheep - young and shorn".

As we were both made to sit in the corner for the rest of the week, in total disgrace, I declined his offer of a portion of aniseed lapwing scratchings, which were apparently on special offer this week at Cross Stores. Mr Angus phoned to tell us that we had collectively responsibility for the material on his computer, and he was going to explain to Mr Alex just why we shouldn't be punished too harshly for downloading all the wrong things onto his computer.

I am in despair, as this is a black mark and it probably means I won't get promoted to assistant to the apprentice to the trainee junior minister for Gaelic things.

Naughty pictures seen: 1
Time spent in corner: 28 hours (with daily toilet breaks)
Constituents spoken to: None

Visit to Barra

Now that school Parliament is out for the 14 weeks of summer it is good to be able to relax and do what I want around my house, or go somewhere civilised like the mainland, or visit places where people know me, like my office.

So when Mr Angus told me to come to Barra straight away to see the appalling state of the hospital, I was more than happy to jump into my car and drive slowly, but carefully, to the airport - allowing 45 minutes for check-in and another 45 minutes for the 8 mile drive - to fly to the Island of Barra, which is even further away than Uist.

Ms Nicola was coming to the Island of Barra to rename the hospital as St Salmond's by the Sea and to criticise the Labour Party for failing to do anything about the appalling state of the hospital which has been allowed to go to rack and ruin over the past number of years. Or so Mr Angus told me as we formed the guard of honour at the airport, waiting for the plane to land.

As the plane landed I ran out onto the runway, which was covered in sand, and threw myself prostrate so that Ms Nicola could stand on me to avoid getting her Jimmy Chu shoes dirty, which she obviously appreciated as she wiped her feet on me more than once.

We climbed into the stretch tractor for the journey to the Ospadal (that's hospital in Gaelic!), narrowly avoiding running over Cllr Donald Manford, the supposed leader of the SNP Group on the Council who was astonished to see us there. "Perhaps we will be successful on the return journey" said Mr Angus, who invented the tractor when he was a boy, before showing the driver how to change gear.

Mr Angus was explaining to Ms Nicola about how the wicked and evil Labour Party had paid no attention to the hospital over the past few years, whilst trying to read the directions to the hospital that Mrs Jane had written out for him. The street of Barra had been swept clean of seaweed, sheep poo and anyone who might want to meet the Minister, or might recognise Mr Angus or even I.

As the tractor negotiated the pedestrians forming an orderly but unsteady queue outside the off-licence, Neil Neil MacNeil, Neil MacNeil MacNeil, John Iain MacNeil, Iain John MacNeil, Travis MacNeil, Oighrig MacNeil, Peigi Donald O'Neil MacNeil, Seumas Chavez and Philomena MacNeil Mugabe, Ms Nicola laid out her priorities for the meeting and the visit.

In no particular order they were

• No promises about anything
• Make the right noises at the right time
• Maximum photo opportunities
• Be seen to be interested in even the most tedious detail
• I was to carry her bags at all times
• Under no circumstances were critics to be allowed within 100m (at which point her civil servant smiled, and lifted his jacket to show a gun "for defence only")
• and finally, something to do with health care

Briskly pushing aside the patients and staff who were blocking the way for the photographer we managed to get enough photos to justify the ministerial visit, before we handed out the press release announcing the success of the visit and left after a visit that seemed to last hours, but took only 10 minutes including 9 for photos.

Mr Angus took us all back to the airport by the scenic route, which seemed to be the same route as we had taken the first time, and then Ms Nicola was gone. Mr Angus and I went back to see those who wanted to make representations to Ms Nicola with her apologies. Mr Angus sent me into the room and went off to see Harlot MacNeil "on constituency business". Thankfully no-one recognised me and I was able to get out after standing in a corner for barely three hours.

Press releases issued: 43 (42 by Ms Nicola and 1 by Mr Angus)
Protesters met by me: 17
People who recognised me : 1 (Mr Angus!)

Fuel policy

I am a hero for bringing up the cost of fuel as instructed by Mr Alex, Mr Angus and Mr John!

Even Mr Angus is issuing press releases supporting my motion to the Parliament and reminding everyone that he has been raising the issue without any success for many a long year; and that if it weren't for him none of this inaction would have happened.

My triumphal motion reads as follows (translated from the Gaelic):

Since the popular election of Mr Alex by the unanimous vote of the now free people of Scotland and the overthrown of the socialist-fascist regime of Joke McConnell, the NuLab dictatorship in Westminster have attempted to further impoverish the Scots by deliberately levelling excessive taxes on the petrol than we mine. This house notes that in a fair society, all Scots would be entitled to drive their cars as far and as often as they wanted without having to pay for fuel, due to the munificence of the impending Emperor Salmond, and that the proceeds from the gifting of the oil to the voters would be invested wisely in a fund to ensure that the continuing success of Mr Alex is recognised on a global, and indeed inter-planetary, basis by all humans, animals and others alike. Fuel regulator details to be worked out later. France give discounts to rural areas, we want the same, as long as it is paid for by Westminster, not Holyrood. Stornoway Gazette please copy in detail, press release to follow.

I have already had almost 10 signatures supporting my motion which means that there may be some people in the chamber when I speak. I have already written my speech, keeping it topical and factual, from the copy given to me by HQ from the press release they issued when they decided I would front this for the SNP.

Kenny phones to ask if this will reduce his red diesel costs for his tractor; and will it reduce the pinking of the engine in his car if he adds marine gas oil and Spry Crisp & Dry to the petrol? So many questions, so little time! I tell him to ask Rhona, as she knows everything, but he tells me that she is busy deleting personal letters and emails from an ex-employees computer, and may be a few days yet.

Motions moved this week: 1
Laxatives taken: 2 (no effect yet)
Ex-employees seen in Parliament: 1

School closures

With potential school closures in the constituency being a political hot potato ever since Miss Fiona allowed me to carry her bags around the schools, it is very important that I am seen to be objective, unbiased and outside the proposal so I can objectively make unbiased suggestions to Miss Fiona about how she can get even with the Comhairle for embarrassing her - and me! - on her last and only visit.

To that end I have been busy helping Gordon 'Diesel' MacLennan, my former employer, with his campaign of vilification and abuse towards the Comhairle, and put my staff at his disposal, after checking with Mr Angus that this was acceptable to him.

Gordon, myself and Rhona's mum and my former landlady Margaret Martin have been busy with preparing the giant posters for placing in dangerous places on the roads and trying to embarrass senior councillors at their places of business. Not only do I have to keep my involvement secret, but Margarita is a teacher at one of the schools being proposed for closure and cannot be seen to attack her employers. Thankfully, neither of us have any self-interest in the matter; Margarita due to her old age and impending retirement, and me due to the fact that no teachers responded to my request to rise up, bear arms, and overthrow the Council after my letters in September 2007.

With Kenny otherwise occupied washing the fleece of Baaabaaara the ewe, it was up to the three of us to prepare all the signs.

Gordon used all his skill to cut the dies for the posters using oxyacetylene torches on plate sheet, before joining the dies all together to spell out the message. With letters 18 inches high, glistening against the pristine white paper on the A-Board it was a sight to behold.

Margarita then took on the teachers role of checking the spelling, balancing the words, and removing the obscenities, before telling Gordon that the F, C & K in "Shut" were wrong.

Then it was my turn to unwrap the special non-toxic crayons that came with the Teletubbies magazine last week and holding the enormous Beano eraser - featuring Billy Whizz - I set to work colouring in all the letters. What a task they had set me! After only three weekends and a new copy of the Teletubies with crayons that Gordon had kept at the back of the newsagents, instead of returning for a refund, in case of emergencies like this, I was ready. Thankfully the moment hadn't passed, and as the signs were pulled into place I smiled to myself and headed to the plane to go back to civilisation.

I was almost discovered at the airport, when the Convener's wife asked about my lipstick, but a quick visit to the toilets (the Gents!) to remove the red crayon and I was away free, ready to help advise Miss Fiona on her objective policy of annihilation of the Comhairle education chiefs.

Crayons chewed: 6
Red crayons fully used: 17
Number of times drawn outside the lines: 332 (but thanks to Bill the Whizz, no-one will know)

Fishing policy

I have today proclaimed my total support for the new SNP policy to support fishermen, as told to by HQ, and I intend to ensure that all the fishermen in the Western Isles appreciate the hard work and deep though that Mr Alex has put into his seven-point plan announced by Mr Richard:

1. The SNP Government will immediately think about considering to set-up a task force to do something about the fishing industry (details to follow, much later)
2. Subsidies for essential equipment for fishing boats operating from harbours in the constituencies of Mr Alex and Mr Richard (to be extended to other ports in 2020)
3. The SNP will meet with and blame Westminister for fuel prices remaining too high, without the need to propose methods to alleviate this
4. Talk to Europe about potential industry subsidies, despite these being illegal under European law (see 3 above)
5. Mr Alex to invent a new engine that will make fishing boats more fuel efficient
6. SNP Government to legislate for fish to breed and grow faster, quicker and smarter by reducing the number of fish in a shoal from an average of 4,300 to not more than 4,000 by 2030 by the use of early-intervention techniques (to be developed)
7. All log books to be kept in Gaelic or Doric to discourage foreign boats raping the seabed encourage an international approach to the problem.

What a triumph this will be when I announce the proposals at the pier in Achmore tomorrow.

Gaelic words spoken: 17
Fish eaten: None, to preserve stocks
HQ press releases rehashed this week: 7

Attn newsdesks

Press release from Dr Alasdair Allan PhD MA DDT (SNP MSP for the Western Isles)

POST OFFICE CLOSURES

They are a bad thing, and Labour is to blame.

I have headed a virulent and wide ranging campaign against the closures across the constituency with a petition signed by many people (Kenny and Rona) but despite posting it to Mr Brown yesterday from the Post Office in Tong (closed 1998) he has ignored my pleas and mercilessly brutally murdered the Gaelic speaking Postmasters and Postmistresses of the Western Isles as they lay unsuspecting in their beds using a very sharp implement and without any concern for the mess that this will cause on the bedsheets, and ripped the throbbing, beating, heart from the children of these small isolated communities whilst they were outside playing on the swings with their friends, and eating the hearts like a Fife Werewolf in Lewis (I'm writing the film script at the moment in Gaelic for the new digital channel, and it will appear in the register of interests soon) without condiments or concern for the vegetarians who might be watching with binoculars for the next village.

7 May 2008

My first anniversary

To celebrate my first year as a Parliamentarian, Rhona has taken me for a bite to eat in the Woodlands Centre.

What a surprise when I get there, to find that there is also a night out for one of the retirement homes with some 30 pensioners and a handful of their carers! Rhona jokingly tries to persuade me that this is the entire membership of the local SNP, but I can see through her humour, as they gave me a round of applause as I entered, and none of these people are able to string together a sensible sentence, so I can see why anyone else would make a mistake.

I sit quietly in a corner nibbling on a carrot and all-bran rock bun, and drinking some Laspang- souchong and mackerel tea, as Rhona encourages a few of the poor demented individuals to come over and see me. They all seem to know my name, but I suppose that Rhona has told them who I am, and they all ask the same question, "Is Mr Angus coming tonight to make it interesting?"

I sneak outside to escape the smell of denture-fix and rubber underwear (not from Rhona this time!) and find Kenny sitting looking at the stars rising whilst smoking one of his special cigarettes. I stand upwind, to avoid the smell of Lebanese Black marram grass rotting my suit, and watch in an impressed manner as he rolls another cigarette using a Joan Birnie column torn from the Daily Record, some of the finest imported marram, and seals it off with three Royal Mail issue elastic bands. I suspect it may be the latter of those that is oozing into the Woodlands Centre and causing the fitting and collapsing, but Kenny seems strangely immune.

After barely three minutes in his company I feel strangely mellow, and starting to suffer the munchies. I insist that Rhona drive me home and I raid the cupboards for food before getting into my new glow-in-the-dark Iggle Piggle pyjamas.

Tins of sausage and beans eaten: 17
Stars shining on the bedroom ceiling: 2,377
Missing day: Saturday

Harris Tweed

The shocking thing about the decision by Mr Haggis to stop doing what my constituents who weave would like is not that a mere businessman is trying to run the business in the way that suits himself, rather than as I would like but that there is only one beneficiary from this entire operation.

Like the devil machines they were proposing to build at Arnish, the unholy have many faces. With Al*sd*ir M*rris*n and Brain Wislon running the other Harris Tweed mill on the islands they can be the only winners from this, and that must be stopped. I have submitted the following motion to the Parliament for early discussion.

"We the undersigned call on the First Minister (Mr Alex) to instruct Mr Haggis to restart production of all tweeds in all colours and quantities with immediate effect to prevent the Labour mill in Shawbost from being viable. Further, we call on Mr John to instruct the Valuation Board to raise a punitive assessment on the Labour mill with immediate effect; to be followed by a rotation of Health and Safety inspections, tax investigations, Minimum Wage visits, Environmental Health de-ratting inspections, and a mass raid by the Police to round up the unlicenced migrant workers from Stornoway. A demolition order, implemented with extreme prejudice, would also be appreciated."

I have also asked HQ to expel the so-called SNP supporter Alasdair "Rae" MacKenzie, who forthwith will be known as Mr Quisling.

Motions tabled this week: 1
Motions signed by me this week: 37
Letters from constituents: 1

Wind farm decision

There is sheer delight and unmitigated dancing in the streets of Stornoway street of Bragar as the announcement that the windfarm is to be banned is made.

No word was due for another few weeks, but at the annual conference Mr Angus made a verbal misstatement in the presence of the press and things moved quickly from there to where we are today.

On Saturday night, Mr Angus and I were talking at the Conference about the important matters that concern us, such as his development of a perpetual motion machine aged 3 which powered the whole of the West of Scotland for a week before the dilithium crystals broke and the hyperdrive was never the same again. At that moment Kenny came to see us bearing some drinks and some food - it was good to see him in a slightly ill-fitting waiter outfit dispensing nutrition to the important people, whilst knowing his place - when he offered me a Cranberry juice and a Tofu and Chocolate vol-a-vent. Mr Angus liberated three large whiskies and a small plate of peat-roasted barley-meal Europie buffalo-wings, made with the finest Europie chicken i.e. beach sperm whale marinaded in Tennants Lager for three months, and then flash fried in guga oil, whilst announcing that they were to be charged to his John Lewis expenses.

Calling loudly for a piper, he passed the food and drinks to his two female colleagues, and announced loudly to the room that he "was going upstairs to explain to the ladies just how he had personally stopped the Lewis Wind Farm and how the women of Lewis would be falling at his feet when it was announced shortly." Unfortunately I think this might have been overheard by some of the guests at the press reception, who thoughtlessly carried the news the following day and started contacting Mr Jim.

Mr Angus was red faced the next day, which he explained as carpet burns, and an emergency decision was taken to rush out the refusal immediately, irrespective of the merits of the case. What power I have to influence the Minister into doing what he tells me he is going to do. MWT have already promised to hold a street party in my honour, to which I will have to invite Mr Angus, as soon as they all come to Lewis for their holidays. They have promised that all the school children at all the affected schools will throw palm leaves at our feet and carve our names with pride into the peat banks for posterity.

MWT have also asked me to campaign against the schools closures, which the Council claim to result from a drop in pupil numbers from 500 to 17 in the past ten years, with a projected role of not more than 3 by 2011. What rubbish - the absence of children shouldn't be a bar on keeping the schools open, and I am sure that the Council can find the money by cutting their non-essential expenditure on things such as Polish language bin collections, twining with Riyadh and Bora-Bora, translating everything into Gaelic and paying for Councillors to visit the offices in Stornoway.

Expenses claimed: £7,445
Windfarms destroyed: 1
Gauva and kiwifruit tea drunk: 1 pot

Ex-employee

I came into the office today to hear Rhona screaming down the phone, obscenities spewing from her lips like a wino in the Grassmarket. Nothing struck me as unusual until she burst into tears and ran to the toilet, pausing only to flatten Kenny with a right-hook and knocking him from his chair so that his head banged against the barrel of pickled hooper swans he keeps for snack-attacks.

As I tried to resuscitate Kenny - I drew the line at mouth-to-mouth, as he tastes of a mix of Embassy fags and illegally syphoned red diesel - Rhona reappeared having repainted her face and drawn a wide swipe of scarlet lipstick across her face, most of which was on her mouth, and tried to arrange a video conference call to Mr Angus, who seemed to be constantly unavailable.

After 15 minutes of reconnection and disconnection, 2 hours of support calls to Government IT (conducted at a disgracefully high volume, and with increasingly disparaging and rude terms - I do not think it is possible that Mr and Mrs Patel could do what she suggested with a tandoori oven and a gallon tub of rice) contact was finally made when the suggestion was relayed to Mr Angus that Rhona would have to phone him at home if he kept cutting her off.

Well, I have never been as mortified as today when I had to listen to some anatomically precise statements mixed with what Kenny explained to me later were the kind of endearments he whispers in the ear of the ewe before the 'special time'. I had to dictate again a number of letters as it was not possible to hear any of my words above the berating, pleading and crying from the other side of the desk. We were both grateful when Rhona bellowed "But I never liked you anyway!" before breaking the phone into small pieces across the back of Kenny's head.

It was bad enough that the handset was broken, but when she started with the base unit and then the wall mounted switchbox I was forced to intervene, removing the phone cable from Kenny's throat before he turned entirely blue. I had to revive him with a sweet cup of tea with seven sugars (the usual), a salt-herring in orange-juice and 20 fags simultaneously.

Later that day Mr Angus phoned to apologise for the loss of service on his IT equipment which he explained was due to a malfunctioning bi-location transporter part not being as good as the one he invented in Primary School, and explained that reluctantly Rhona had decided to accept another job underneath another SNP MSP and he had reluctantly accepted her resignation on the understanding that she say nothing about anything that ever happened anywhere, ever, and took a pay increase as compensation. He was sorry to lose her, but she wanted to have a permanent position, and it was all for the good, but we must never mention her name ever again, especially not in front of Jane.

Just then the door opened and the new member of staff arrived. Her name is Rona, which as Kenny remarked through the blood and bandages "Makes it easy to remember her name in the morning". I don't know what he was getting at, and before I could ask he lapsed into a coma.

Pieces of telephone found in office: 558
Pieces of telephone found in Kenny: 326
Pieces of Kenny found in telephone: 7

Sale of Work

In the past the Lewis SNP Sale of Work has involved hours and hours of preparation, glad-handing and counting of the money, so it was a privilege to be invited to open it as Mr Angus couldn't be bothered and no-one else was available.

After the doors opened I addressed the massed crowds (Kenny, Rhona and a drunk who wandered in by mistake) for barely fifteen minutes about the magnificence of Mr Alex before declaring the Sale open.

Thankfully I didn't have to spend hours talking to people I don't know as the absence of donations, helpers and the public meant that the Sale was over and done with and the hall cleared within 45 minutes. I was told that we raised the fantastic sum of almost £395.75, €1.72 and a polo mint. After adjusting for the appalling handling of the economy by Alasdair Darling and Gordon Brown and the ravages that their actions have forced upon the islands it compares very favourably with the £1,000 plus we used to raise.

By getting away early, I have been able to concentrate on more important matters and have managed to get a very early flight off the islands and back to civilisation.

Councillors spoken to: 1 (Rev Murdo 'Maroot' MacLeod (Ind) leader of the provisional SNP Group (Continuing))
Donations given: £0
Flights to Edinburgh: £340, paid for by the Parliament.

Energy conference

Mr Jim is delighted with my speech and is lavish in his praise for both Mr Angus and I as he comes off the plane, and even before we have been able to give him an outline of what we intend to say. He is just such an able politician to manage to understand what is going to happen even before it does.

I manage to avoid talking to any Councillors as they will just want to engage me in debate on difficult topics about which they know nothing, and expect me to discuss these issues with them. Today is a day for unmitigated adulation of Mr Jim and the SNP Government, and by extension Mr Angus and I, and there is no way that I am going to let reality intervene.

Mr Jim gives a wonderful speech about how important renewable energy is for the islands and how the sources here are vital for Scotland to achieve the targets that have been set. And how important it is for all the windfarm proposals that he can't talk about must go ahead, despite the ludicrous arguments about birds. As no less a person than Mr Alex has said "Environmental concerns are just that, concerns, and must not be allowed to get in the way of Donald Tr*mp or the developments in Aviemore!"

How I applauded, as that is the message I have been telling everyone who will listen for years, and it was unfortunate that Moorlands Without Turbines had chosen today (as I asked them to) not to attend the meeting to hear the positive words of Mr Jim.

To underline the election winning strategy pursued by Mr Angus and I of opposing jobs, economic regeneration and renewable energy whilst pandering to the newly resident on the islands, Mr Jim left the meeting straight after his speech to spend the rest of the day in discussions with the supporters of the planning applications. One day soon I may have to accept their repeated invitations to meet with them, rather than ignore them in the hope they will go away.

Mr Angus gave a masterful speech which left the audience in shocked silence as he describe his early experiences in engineering, which led him inexorably to taking his PhD in the subject, and how he built the first renewable power station in Barra when he was a boy, using nothing but tractor parts and powered by seaweed. He reminded his audience that the entire population of Barra - Neil MacNeil, Niall MacNeil, Donald MacNeil, Neil Donald MacNeil, Donald Niall MacNeil, Neilina MacNeil, Donaldina Neilina MacNeil, Neil Niall MacNeill and their families amongst others - were eternally grateful for his foresight, intelligence and sheer handsomeness. He finished by expressing his eternal support for the Minister and that he had to leave for an important meeting with Rhona.

I had heard the story about the tractor on quite a few occasions in many other locations but every time Mr Angus lets slip yet another aspect of his famous invention that adds to the glory and glamour of his sheer ability. If only he wasn't so modest.

My speech was met with rapturous applause from the entire audience (Kenny and Rhona) as I explained how my views on energy would be best expressed by whatever decision the Minister took, and that any comments about renewable energy in election campaigns have been misunderstood in translating the document from its original Gaelic.

I finished by explaining the need to have the full involvement of a team to deliver a bilingual language development plan as a key fundamental part of attracting investors to move here, and to speak Gaelic fluently in all meetings, before and development could commence. Drawing on a quote from my hero Yukio Mishima, who I am translating into Gaelic, I reminded the audience (Rhona, as Kenny had gone out for a smoke) of his prescient words in わが友ヒットラー (Death in Midsummer on an open moor at the hands of MWT)

"Lowly is the dunlin compared to the fish of the river.
Beyond eternity lies only a nimby, still protesting.
One must act today, for tomorrow the shops may be closed.
Unto the ferry one must render; and often."

I came away from the lectern safe in the secret knowledge that I will be appointed junior assistant under-minister in charge of Gaelic Development plans in the next Government, and Mr Angus is to be given full Ministerial responsibility, as Minister for Derelict Tractors in a sponsorship deal to be announced by Massey Ferguson when Mr Alex sorts their planning permission problems.

Councillors spoken to: None
Vice-Conveners shouting at me: 1
Ministerial appointments promised for next decade: 1

Energy Conference

I am honoured to be speaking at this meeting which I hope will put the final nail in the coffin of big renewable energy plans for the Western Isles. Too many people cannot imagine the ruthless massacre of bird life that these big turbines will cause. I hope that the community will develop a few small turbines, but not too many or that may cause growth of the economy, which as we know is a bad thing, unless as a result of the actions by Mr Alex.

My topic is "Energy: An opportunity to be seized?", which is a blindingly obvious question.

Kenny and I have made a list of the key issues that I will be raising, and demanding that the Comhairle taken forward immediately from their own vast resources, given that Mr Jim has already told us not to suggest that the Government has any role in this matter.

The first opportunity that need to be grasped straight away is to ensure a vigorous and reliable campaign to ensure that all relevant energy terms are translated into Gaelic. Key words and phrases that need IMMEDIATE attention include:

• Three-phase switching gear
• Nacelle
• Cetacean-friendly sub-surface tidal-power experimental device
• Low-energy bulb
• On-shore deep-storage non-radioactive non-nuclear facility
• Turbine-blade manufacture capacity
• Nuclear meltdown
• Mme Guillotine meets the Amec Board
  

I am proposing that the Comhairle, together with Highland and Islands Enterprise, the University of the Highland and Islands and Bord na Gaidhlig develop a huge range of courses to encourage and seize the opportunities that are offered.

• Gaelic as a Foreign Language
• Retraining engineers at the Arnish windfarm factory as Gaelic speaking nursery nurses
• A Professorship in peat extraction techniques, focussing on the non-extraction of peat (Gaelic speakers only)
• Tidal barrages for beginners
• Engineering small turbines as they don't harm birds (sponsored by RSPB)
• Successful location of windfarm developments (to be delivered through the Falkland Isles campus and sponsored by MWT)
• Subsidy application (advanced course)
• Social Care - how to look after the elderly and infirm in a collapsing economy (Gaelic and Polish only)
• Oil extraction and pipeline observation for bystanders - West Side campus only
• Solar power - can Lewis become the new Sahara?

At least no-one can accuse me of complacency.

Instructions received from HQ: 46
Gaelic words spoken: 4437
Bright ideas: 1

Mr Alex is not guilty

The Local Government Committee, of which I am a senior member, met today to issue its report into the so-called Tr*mp affair.

As I prophesied, even before I saw any of the evidence, and as HQ instructed, there was not a shred of evidence to prove that Mr Alex had anything whatsoever, ever, to do with the consideration of the planning issues surrounding the application, and he knew nothing about the matter until the Labour press started to stir this up over nothing.

It was a great shame that the other parties represented on the Committee bother to waste their time by looking at the facts and hearing from Mr Alex and Mr John as they explained how the contacted anyone and everyone they could until the matter was called in.

Sadly, they came to the totally false conclusion that Mr Alex and Mr John had anything to do with the decision they instructed the Chief Planner to take to make such a momentous decision at short notice, and in the absence of the facts. As I said in the private session of the Committee, "Does it matter that Mr Alex abused his position and tried to control matters beyond his remit, before instructing Mr John to tell the Chief Planner to do what he can to rescue the plan proposed by his pal, Mr Tr*mp?"

We SNP members on the Committee were not going to let the Committee play politics with such a serious matter, so Kenny, Doris (who confusingly is a man) and I decided (as instructed by HQ) to dissent as a group on every issue where there could be any suggestion of any impropriety by any Minister, or any of our friends.

I was to lead the way and I duly started by dissenting to the title of the report; and then the ISBN; and then the page numbers; before passing the batton of dissent to Kenny. That is not Kenny from my office, as that would just be silly, but another Kenny (no relation), who is apparently also a MSP.

Mr Alex will be pleased at the hugely favourable coverage for him that has followed from our actions!

Dissent registered: 11234 times
People called Kenny I know: 2
Camomile and daisy tea drunk: 1 cup

Mr Desmond McNulty MSP

The Parliament as one to celebrate the introduction of RET onto all the routes from the Western Isles, except of course, the bitter and twisted Labour Party. And their onetime allies the LibDems. And our allies the Greens. And our other allies (although we aren’t allowed to call them that) the Tories. And Margo MacDonald.

Mr Stewart made a wonderful speech explaining how poor and impoverished the Western Isles were and how none of our other policies would impact in any way on this sad state of affairs. He then explained, slowly for the Labour Party members, that the RET rates were set different from the Equivalent Road Tariff as used by the AA, the RAC and the Inland Revenue but it accurately reflected the cost of a 4 litre Range Rover, the typical vehicle of choice of a crofter, which they used to haul the peat up from the beach, and to take the tourists onto the centre of the Barvas Moor and then back laden with deer, salmon, dunlin, golden eagles and a few brace of grouse.

Luckily I had my Star Trek combined communicator, phaser and mobile phone on silent, as at this point Kenny texted me to say that he ran his pick-up on two parts red diesel to 14 parts seal oil and it costs him no more than 2p per mile to do so. I despair of Kenny, trying to bring rational argument into the political debate, but now I know why you can smell the pick-up from a half-mile away.

Just then a Labour member, who shall remain nameless, accused Mr Stewart of acting like Chemical Ali. I don’t want to make too much of it, but Mr McNulty then suggested that the sole reason for introducing RET was to allow the Government to round up Gaelic Speakers and transport them to the Western Isles where all the adults and children would be slowly poisoned by Mr Stewart using a combination of highly toxic Trumps and worthy, but pointless, Government initiatives. But not before they had worked themselves in skeletal form rowing the new oar-powered catamaran ferry across the Minch. “Where”, he spat, “Was that in the manifesto of the fascist, death-camp supporting, party opposite?”

This was just too much for me and I was absolutely incandescent with rage, as Donnie MacInnes phoned to tell me my press release in the Gazette was going to say. How dare anyone question what an SNP Minister might be doing? Which is the question I posed to the Minister, as he had asked me to.

I caught up with the guilty party later outside the Chamber and had words, “Just who were you calling Comical Ali, Mr McNulty MSP, Sir?”, I asked. I was devastated by his reply, “You, lad, are the real Comical Ali!”.

I cried all the way back to my room.

Scripted interventions read: 3
Phaser setting: 16 (Extreme explosive effect)
Constituents met: 0

Health Board

The disgraceful state of affairs at the Western Isles Health Board was made clear to me by the briefing note and clear instruction sent to me by Miss Nicola.

The meeting of the Audit Committee at which the expose of the appalling situation under the previous Government administration was a revelation to those of us who thought that the problems at the Health Board had been resolved.

I am now convinced that the in-depth investigation by the Committee under the clear, but unattributable, leadership of Mr Alex into the cronyism and political appointee system encouraged by the hated and discredited Labour regime will demonstrate that the new Board and Executive will be free from political bias.

This was confirmed to me by the Chairman, who despite being appointed Andy Kerr (Lab, Discredited North) has not let his Labour roots affect his non-political stance. I was also very grateful to Sandy Matheson, a former Chairman of the Health Board, for his intervention in pointing out that Manson and Currie were lying. Sandy was, of course, a former Labour candidate for Westminster, but his turning on his former party, and his ruthless naming of the entryist Marxist/Leninist colleagues into the Health Board indicates just how far he has moved politically, and what a wonderful job Mr Alex is doing in uniting the entire country behind him.

Mr Manson will suffer for his failure to blame Labour totally and utterly for everything that has gone wrong, and the late Alasdair Morrison will take is share of the blame for supporting the appointment of an SNP activist to the role of Chief Executive before Mr Manson.

I've received instructions that Mr Currie is not to be blamed for anything, as he was an SNP member locally - obviously long before I ever heard of the Western Isles - and the rumour is that Mrs Currie is a former paramour of Mr Alex from their time in at St Andrews University, where Mr Alex won every prize going on the sports field and beyond, including setting numerous world records.

Hopefully all this upset and angst will lead to a more stable Health Board, as Donnie MacInnes said I said in the Gazette, although I haven't a clue what he actually meant.

The most telling quote from me as made up by Donnie was "It was also observed at the meeting that Mr Manson and others did not actually live on the Isles permanently." How ludicrous, to try and understand somewhere you don't live in and obviously have no attachment to.

Gaelic words spoken: 3
Pile cream used: 1 tube
Constituents spoken to: 3 ( a new record)

AGM

The AGM was a great success, mainly due to the fact that we didn’t let anyone know it was taking place. The Committee were reappointed after being proposed en-bloc by Mr Angus, who was an honorary member for the evening, and after I issued the already completed voting papers to those attending the AGM (the Committee) it was nice to see total unanimity in the support for the fantastic job that the Committee do in doing as Mr Angus and I tell them.

The absence of those who might want to debate matters meant that there was more time for my brief two-hour speech declaiming the skills, abilities, intelligence, wit and wisdom of Mr Angus (but Rhona re-read what she had written for me, I decided to take out the section on being a family man, as she told me to) and his brief two minute speech on my abilities, which seemed to focus on my quiff.

Since being struck by lightning last week, and surviving, I realise that there is a greater plan for me, and that divine intervention means that there is a REAL purpose in my life, rather than the meaningless, pathetic, clueless, subservient, inadequate and pointless course that I have followed over the past twenty years. When I work out what it is, I will follow it, but until then I will do exactly as He recommends; and the first blessed sign came direct from Him when Mr Alex sent me an email telling me that He would be acquitted by the Local Government Committee when we come to consider the ill-founded Trump Inquiry and the Aviemore Inquiry, and the other ones that aren’t public yet.

It was a mistake to let Kenny do the catering though.

The sandwiches were filled with Ness Duck, which Kenny described as being “Like Bombay Duck, only from Ness.” Further inquiry elicited the fact that this was in fact lamb, left to air dry for two years in a sheiling before being salted for six months in a Tenants Lager keg. Kenny claims this sells exceptionally well at the Tapas nights in the Ness Social Club.

The main dish was Buffalo Wings, which Kenny later admitted was actually skate wings which had been left to ferment for eighteen hours in a bucket of fat extracted from a beached whale (or seal) before being deep fried in a batter of Super Lager, Skigersta milled marram-flour and all bound together with an egg of a Golden Eagle.

The evening came to an early end when the management stopped Kenny from building the fire over which he was planning to roast a stag that he had found dead of suicide apparently.

As we left, Rhona tapped me on the shoulder and said, “I know who the mole is!” before grinning in a threatening manner. My blood stood still. Did she mean me? What had I done?

Messages from above: 3
Councillors ignored: 4
Political discussions at the AGM: Nil

Air Discount Scheme

The Air Discount Scheme has been saved, thanks to my intervention in the matter, and I am one of the first to know!

Mr Stewart has issued a Press Release in my name which I have just received from a journalist, a mere six hours later, announcing that over a week ago the European Union have approved the continuation of the scheme for another three years. This will deliver 40% savings to everyone who lives in the islands, or who is on the electoral roll, which means I can benefit too. This is so much better than RET, I explained to Donnie MacInnes at the Stornoway Gazette, as important people fly rather than take the ferry, and there has to be a scheme to help people like me and not just the ordinary people who travel on the boats.

All the questions from journalists are about ADS and not RET, which is a good thing as it distracts from the problems that Mr Stewart will have when he makes the official announcement next week.

It is good to see that the new SNP Government have left behind the Labour legacy of duplicity, misinformation, spin and the use of friendly journalists to break a non-story, as I said to Donnie MacInnes when he sent me a first draft of the press release that I am going to send to the Gazette later today.

Angry Ministers spoken to: 1
Press releases written by Donnie MacInnes: 27
Press releases carried by media other than the Stornoway Gazette: 2

RET story leaked

At the weekend Mr Angus and I were sent a press release from HQ about RET which was so secret and confidential we were not allowed to see it, and had to fill in the blanks for our comments with our eyes closed, before faxing it on to Donnie MacInnes at the Stornoway Gazette.

Mr Angus made a clever and intelligent comment about RET being able to "lower the water table" or "taking water off the table" or something similar, whilst I just praised Mr Alex for bringing the needed rains to the islands using publicly subsidised ferries, and reminding the voters that under Labour there had been no rain on the islands in living memory, and no ferries either.

It then turned out that we were calling for Road Equal Travel to be introduced on all the ferries that Mr Alex has brought to the islands. This will be a wonderful scheme if it were introduced, but I have not been told yet what it will involve, but I know that if Mr Alex and Mr John are involved then it will be wonderful, as I told them both.

Mr Stewart is coming to the islands next week to make the announcement, and hopefully I will be told the details before the meeting. I think Mr Angus might know something as himself and Rhona are having private little meetings in the cupboard, which is obviously very warm as Mr Angus is always having to button his shirt up when he emerges.

But then Kenny draws my attention to Voldemort's website where he has published full details of the scheme, including the prices, which shows that it is more expensive for some of the journeys which seems to send Kenny into a spin. He was cursing in some kind of weird Ness Gaelic dialect which neither Alan nor I could understand, except for the occasional obscenity.

I phone Mr Stewart in tears (that is to say I was in tears, he was just furious and shouting) to explain that the details of what he intended to say appear to have been leaked and to apologise for being the bearer of bad news. After listening to a mere two-hour dressing down, he promised to be able to deflect this bad news story with some other good news which he would pass to Mr Angus later.

Rhona took me aside later and announced that she had been appointed as mole-finder General, and would be tapping all the phones, faxes, mobiles and emails and she would be in charge of opening all incoming post and ensuring that outgoing messages had a secret code embedded into the print to allow us to identify the sources of information. I had nothing to worry about, she said, "As you never say anything interesting anyway", and, "I'll make sure that you receive only the bare minimum of information, relevant or not."

Mr Angus has already left a message from Rhona on the new recording equipment as a test, he said, and she goes bright red and blows him a big kiss to indicate that the equipment is working.

Kenny returns to advise that six new infra-red cameras have been installed in the toilet.

Constituents met: 1
Journeys more expensive under RET scheme: 4
Cups of rosehip, fennel and peppermint tea drunk: 1

Wind turbines

The SNP Councillors have dared to put out a press release suggesting that the implications of refusing permission for the turbines would be to prevent any economic development on any site where there is any form of designation.

How dare they attack me in such a manner and suggest that I might in any way be wrong, or that the Government might not be 100% right in anything and everything it does.

I am double furious because the press release was put out by Annie MacDonald, and she is seriously scary, and doesn't suffer fools gladly. For some reason she doesn't seem to like me. Mr Angus has issued instructions that whenever she calls, he is out, as he doesn't want to suffer her wrath again.

As the SNP council spokesperson on renewable energy Mr Angus and I have engaged with her on this topic on many occasions, explaining to her how we refuse to discuss renewable energy with her because she is wrong, wrong, wrong and no amount of listening to her will change our minds from the politically opportunist position we have adopted. No matter how much she tries to bamboozle us with logic, facts, figures and examples we refuse to provide her with any justification for our stance as that will just give her more opportunity to explain why we are in error, and we can't have that.

Kenny is instructed to phone her, as Mr Angus and I are both 'out' for the rest of the year and to explain to her in Gaelic that she is not to attempt to contact us or come to this office ever again and that the Police have been out on standby.

We know that this is a difficult task, and Kenny has to gather his wits and strength by going outside and smoking 14 Regal High-Tar Extra-King Size Spanish cigarettes which he bought from behind the bar in the Ness Social Club. Although not Duty Paid he explains that they were legally imported from Tenerife by Willie Alasdair Uilleam of Eurodale in a complex EU approved barter deal involving an articulated lorry load of peat, salt herring, free-range seagull eggs, a few barrels of pickled dunlin and a case of Corncrake and cheese crisps shoplifted from Cross stores.

I turn a blind eye whilst Kenny takes a quick drink from the bottle of "Old Sheep Warmer" he hides in his desk. I have to support the consumption of local produce, even if in this case it is a highly alcoholic and toxic product fermented in an illicit still in a bothan on the wild open moors of Fivepenny Borve by Kenny's uncles, who were named after the places they were conceived, Barvas Cattleshow MacLeod and Inbed MacLeod. The label is beautiful, showing a blackface sheep in the moonlight, urinating gently on the base of a burning wind turbine, whilst a crofter approaches carrying a pair of wellies and a sly grin. The advertising slogan "Caution: not for human consumption" appears to have been printed on the bottle as part of its original purpose for storing sheep dip.

As soon as his sight returns, but before the hallucinations start, Kenny quickly dials the number and bellows down the phone to Annie that she is a disgrace to the party for thinking for herself and not doing as she is told, regardless of her principles - he spits out the last word, although he may just have been trying to get the taste of the drink from his mouth - and before she can get a word in edgeways he tells her she is banned from contacting us, and that a Court Order will be sought if she tries to access the building. His last words before dropping the phone and lapsing into a near coma were, "..and you will be the next one to be expelled after Manford goes!"

We emerge from behind the desks where we have hidden and Alan and I have a wonderful big hug to celebrate. As we leave the office to go home, Rhona steps around the still gibbering form of Kenny and sharply applies her stiletto to his crotch, "Just for fun", Alan and I know that we will be next if we do not do as she instructs.

Gaelic words spoken: 3,389
SNP Councillors ignored: 3
Constituents met: 0

Telvision interview

I do an astounding television interview with STV in which I unequivocally confirm my probable support for the likely decision that the Government might take in considering the application for a windpoint in Lewis. Without doubt I will almost certainly fully support the view that the Government are minded to reject the application. That will show the doubters just how much of a community leader I am, and hopefully Mr Alex will see my performance and be minded to give me a promotion to apprentice substitute junior assistant vice-deputy Minister for Gaelic.

Having seen the interview, I have had strong words with the journalist concerned as they started the clip with an interview with Voldemort and his child playing straight on the emotional heartstrings in a basic, crude and superficially attractive way, and he also had things to say that undermined my position. How dare he play politics with such an important issue and try and contrast his fertility with the absence of any woman in my life.

In Kenny's absence, Rhona screams politely down the phone at the journalist on my behalf threatening many unpleasant personal afflictions and hurt, and tells me that I will not have any more problems from that quarter. Knowing my concerns she is able to put me totally at ease by reassuring me about public perception. "Don't worry what people think", she says, "I tell them that you are saving yourself for exactly the right person, and that you are a quite attractive individual in an asexual sort of way, and that surrounding yourself with young men shouldn't be misunderstood."

I hear Kenny quietly laughing in the toilet.

Journalists spoken to: None
Gaelic words spoken: 347
Windfilms stopped: 1 (probably minded to)

Burns Night

In order to commemorate our national poet, and to demonstrate the deep and lasting support that the Western Isles have for our Scottish National Poet and his deep and lasting impression on the Scottish psyche, and following guidance from Mr Alex that the SNP must respect and reflect on his fine words at this important time, the Western Isles SNP have decided not to hold a Burns Night celebration.

No doubt my political opponents will try to make political capital out of this, by suggesting that the active membership of the local SNP has fallen, but the simple truth is that we have never been able to get enough members to attend any function, except in exceptional circumstances, so the non-event is simply normal.

The local branch remains strong with average attendance at meetings having increased by 20% since I was elected, and there is plenty of room in the Offices for many more activists to attend, so I look forward to having to having to get more tables out to accommodate the seventh supporter soon.

Tonight Kenny presented me with a new Sgian Dubh, inscribed with the motto, "To Alistir Allen. Become the Yukio Mishima of the islands", which he tells me shows his desire for me to take my political success to the highest level. As a kilt is an Imperialist symbol of the oppression of the Gaels by the Germano-Unionist-Quisling class following the '45 in which my family would have suffered so much had they lived anywhere north of Selkirk, but with which we have had so much fundamental and heart-felt affinity over the many, many years since I was elected, I have no intention of ever wearing one. Kenny reminds me that this doesn't mean I cannot find a good use for the knife.

Haggis eaten: none
Poems read in broad Scots: 35
Constituents met: 1 (Kenny)

Top secret - wind to be refused

I was phoned yesterday by Mr Jim to tell me that the giant windplant on Lewis was to be refused, probably, after due consideration and only after giving the applicants another chance to persuade the Government they were wrong. How big a donation does it take for that to happen?

I went out to meet my constituents in Bravas, Galston and Point of Ness were they laid rose petals in my path as I drove through in the cavalcade comprising me in my green 1.4l Micra and Kenny in his rust-brown 1957 Anglia Estate, with optional lights and brakes. Rhona had already sped off in her Mini for a liaison with her special friend, who was visiting from London. The rose petals did look like hay and shredded Dunlin, but Kenny later assured me that this was an old tradition. Apparently the men of the area celebrate good news about the environment by catching, cooking and eating a few Golden Eagles, a barrel or two of red-throated divers and a few hundred brace of other birds; whilst the women of the district carry the catch and the men on their backs for a couple of miles to the Cross Inn, where the men sate their thirst, before the women prepare the feast and sandwiches for the coming year, and then light a giant Wicker man to celebrate the arrival of the subsidy cheques.

We head to our final destination with a triumphal flourish as I put the car into third gear and the massed hordes descend to meet our vehicles. As the horde, Donald Murdo Morrison and his brother Murdo Donald Morrison, unload the cases of Tennant’s Lager with the Tennant’s Girls on the back, from the rear of Kenny’s van. Kenny admits to me that he is smuggling the lager despite threats from the ‘security men’ at the Ness Social Club. I tell him to desist from such improper purposes and help him with a case of export-only Golden Virginia, and a case of Iceland’s famous Guga-flavour profiteroles which have slightly melted, judging by the smell.

As the men finish the fourth case of lager and open yet another packet of roast corncrake crisps – made on site at the Borve minimarket – I finish reading my briefing for my TV interview tomorrow.

Miles driven: 50 (return journey)
Greylag goose sandwiches eaten: None
Gaelic words spoken: 3397

Stornoway Gazette

The local newspaper has tried to suggest that I am wrong footed by the announcement by the Government that there will be no referendum on the windwheels planning application.

How wrong can they be about things! It is very clear that when I called for a referendum and said that it should be organised by the Council as it was the best way for the Government to understand public opinion which they could then take into account when coming to their decision to refuse planning permission, what I actually said was that the communities should ignore the referenda which they have held in their areas as these are not representative and the Community Councils should find the money from their limited budgets to organise new referenda run by professionals which will come up with the same result which the Council and the Government cannot then ignore.

This master plan was met with public acclaim and incredulity at my sheer brilliance and was embraced without question by all the relevant Community Council in Airidhantuim, who advised me that they had no money to do such a thing, and that the previous votes were clear and unequivocal.

The other Community Councils were obviously happy with this plan as they haven't replied.

I am so angry with the Gazette that I will have to contact the editor, Donnie MacInnes, to register my utter anger at the utter incompetence of the report. I control my wrath long enough to stop scaring Alan, and instruct him to immediately phone Mr MacInnes' wife - who is also the Chairperson of the local SNP - to tell Mr MacInnes of my extreme displeasure with the situation
and threaten to withhold all my news releases from the Gazette if such libellous, defamatory and naughty nonsense appears in the future. Alan leaves a scathing message on the answering machine and reminds me that Donnie has authored all the news releases for the next month, so my threats are less than threatening.

I drive home, and on the hour long journey I decide on my course of action. I will not attend the next Branch Meeting of the local SNP. That will teach them.

Referendums organised by me, but not delivered by the Communities: 1
Journalists spoken to: 1
Highest speed driven at: 15mph