Kirk Elder, Senior Citizen from Peebles

tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-178527842011-12-24T14:50:41.147ZKirk Elder, Senior Citizen from PeeblesKirk Elder is Life President of The Peebles Showboaters Amateur Dramatic Society. For many years a columnist on The Scotsman newspaper, he is currently "in recovery" from the experience. He enjoys parma violets, cloudless winter nights, and the films of Mr Burt Lancaster. He is currently writing his autobiography, "And Not For the Better".Kirk Elderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05301246188133213386noreply@blogger.comBlogger2011100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17852784.post-80251812288082957722011-09-05T13:48:00.011+01:002011-09-06T12:59:55.737+01:00Committing Suicide In Order To Survive: The Scottish Tories Come Up Nuts, Slice After Slice

I noted with some excitement the news in yesterday's Sunday Telegraph that the Scottish Conservatives have decided to embrace the inevitable and disband due to lack of interest. I paraphrase slightly, but one must congratulate the Conservative leadership candidate, Mr Murdo M McMurdo (or thereabouts), whose ruse this was, as the doings of the Scottish Tories have not been newsworthy since

Kirk Elderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05301246188133213386noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17852784.post-76525067956190176922011-09-02T15:31:00.008+01:002011-09-02T16:15:11.601+01:00Apologies For My Extended Absence. I Have Been Held Hostage By My Teeth

I would apologise for my absence from these pages if I thought anyone had noticed, but the sad truth for a silver - verging on ferrous oxide - surfer such as myself, is that the internet has become overrun with celebrity, filth, and irrelevance. And that's just the Daily Mail. In truth, I have been unwell. My teeth have been playing up again, and I have been forced to endure a series of sadists

Kirk Elderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05301246188133213386noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17852784.post-14574216522493446812011-03-21T16:29:00.006Z2011-03-21T19:34:15.084ZThe Scottish Election: A Nation Shelters Beneath A Potless Rainbow Awaiting Deliverance, Or A Free Prescription Of Custard Creams

Alas, and indeed, alack, in this diffident spring of earthquakes and lavender revolutions and supermoons and Cruise missiles raining down on the close personal friends of Mr George 'You Can Call Me The Cat' Galloway, an election to the Scottish parliament is underway. You may have detected the signs, though this might more easily be done with the giant stethoscopes they used to employ inside

Kirk Elderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05301246188133213386noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17852784.post-89395934680113164982010-11-16T17:49:00.015Z2010-11-16T19:24:09.125ZPrince William's Wedding Is An Act Of Great Optimism. He Must Hope He Is Heir Only To His Father's Hair, And Not His Matrimonial Tricycle

The news that HRH Prince William is to marry his lady friend, Miss Kate Middleton, is, of course, to be welcomed. One must always accept tokens of optimism as they are dispensed, and there can be no more optimistic act than for the heir to the heir to the throne - who is also heir to the heir's hair, or absence of same - proposing to enter wedlock with a civilian, and "sealing the deal" by

Kirk Elderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05301246188133213386noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17852784.post-90677706528115776402010-09-28T16:14:00.012+01:002010-09-28T17:37:37.990+01:00Mr Ed Miliband Should Stop Talking About How Young He Is, Because He Is Growing Older And Less Fresh With Every Passing Moment

I am of an age where I can only be ambivalent about new leaders of the Labour Party. I was never very taken by the messianic drabness of Mr Tony Blair, who is the most successful leader of the People's Party, even though his success was based on what my old drama teacher, Mrs Ballet-Oliphant, of the Roxburghshire Ballet-Oliphants, used to call "charismatic misdirection". (Meaning that Mr Blair's

Kirk Elderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05301246188133213386noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17852784.post-72486324011194731352010-09-10T13:59:00.010+01:002010-09-10T15:26:44.476+01:00The Senior Retainer, Mr Salmond, Does Not Believe The Scots Are Ready To Vote For Independence. Is This The Last Midge Bite Of Scottish Nationalism?

Living in the Borders has its advantages, not least the ready availability of Hawick Balls, and a plentiful supply of knitwear at reasonable prices. Less obviously to the outsider, we Borderers are blessed with an independent spirit, and a refusal to be swayed by flim-flam, tomfoolery or nonsense. Perhaps this explains my antipathy towards the Palatul Parlamentului in Holyrood, and my inability

Kirk Elderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05301246188133213386noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17852784.post-46269713427877386672010-04-13T14:31:00.011+01:002010-04-14T10:18:16.807+01:00Mr Elder's Guide To Understanding The Election, Involving Chewing Gum, And A Gratuitous Joke About Mr Salmond's Expanding Briefs

Elections are traumatic events, promising milk, honey, and liquorice torpedoes for all, but delivering little but disappointment and mild angina. The cycle of hope and despair is so predictable that it is possible to become quite jaded by the political merry-go-round.However, rather than fall back on the counsel of despair, or, indeed, the council of despair, I like to quote Sir Winston Leonard

Kirk Elderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05301246188133213386noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17852784.post-78788712726498290742010-04-07T10:28:00.009+01:002010-04-07T11:36:36.059+01:00The Prime Minister's Tunnock's Teacake Offensive Is A High-Risk Strategy In The Bantustans of Middle England

My mother, Mrs Elder (or Ma'am) was one of nature's floating voters. Her broad opinion of politicians was that they should be gathered in a sack, like kittens, and thrown in the nearest canal. (She had no time for felines, on account of sharing a crib with four irascible tabbies in early childhood; an experience which also led to her being unusually fond of ocean sticks). But I am a citizen and a

Kirk Elderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05301246188133213386noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17852784.post-37952675196368637242009-12-24T09:34:00.013Z2009-12-24T13:33:27.555ZTis The Season To Be Merry, So Pardon Me If I Respond To The Gaiety Of The Season By Hiding In The Wardrobe

And so, another year draws to a close, and with it, another decade. It is, I now realise, customary to greet the passing of the winter solstice by noting grimly that the past 12 months have been dire, and to hope for better in the coming Spring. But 2009, has been an unholy stinker, hasn't it? We have endured the worst recession since people began compiling worthless statistics about the

Kirk Elderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05301246188133213386noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17852784.post-2798783611856438762009-10-22T11:11:00.012+01:002009-10-22T12:49:33.958+01:00Queuing In The Post Office With The Old, The Infirm and the Merely Discombobulated, Is Like Waiting Around To Die

Today, the posties are on strike. Post will be delivered, but not sorted. Tomorrow, apparently, it will be sorted, but not delivered. The day after that, when the men return from their braziers, sorting and delivering will resume, but will be hampered by the backlog of mail which has accumulated during the strike. The postmen will have more work to do, and less time in which to do it. They will

Kirk Elderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05301246188133213386noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17852784.post-43933636715895426502009-08-26T15:52:00.001+01:002009-08-26T15:56:18.747+01:00The Blu-Ray Henries Of The Conservative Party Display Poverty Of Metaphor When They Compare Britain To 'The Wire'

I was intrigued to note the comments from the Shadow Home Secretary, Mr Chris Grayling, comparing the United Kingdom to the television series, The Wire. I understand that Mr Grayling has form in this regard, having previously compared life in this sceptred isle to the Channel 4 drama, Shameless, and also to the Jeremy Kyle show. Now, it is reassuring to note that Mr Grayling takes such an active

Kirk Elderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05301246188133213386noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17852784.post-36602563803680449062009-08-13T14:56:00.007+01:002009-08-13T20:56:49.655+01:00The BBC's Deracination Of Dennis The Menace Is Not Political Correctness Gone Rife. It Is Much Worse Than That

It was with some alarm that I read the news that DC Thomson’s imp of the perverse, Dennis the Menace, is to be “toned down” in order to suit the requirements of the BBC’s children’s channel, CBBC. Dennis’s catapult is to be banished, and he will no longer be allowed to pick on Walter the Softie, for fear that this might encourage “gay-bashing”. Even Dennis’s horrible dog, Gnasher, will be given a

Kirk Elderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05301246188133213386noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17852784.post-88664850585512656892009-05-07T14:27:00.006+01:002009-05-07T18:15:48.232+01:00After Ten Years Of Devolution, The Scorrish People Are Fat And Tanned, Which Is A Success Of Sorts For The Senior Retainer, Mr Salmond

Suspicious as I am of anniversaries, it has not escaped my notice that it is now ten years since the election of the first devolved Scottish parliament. How long ago that seems, and how near. This great experiment in representation without taxation has changed the country, but left it exactly the same. If I were an optimist, I might construe that as progress. What has changed? Well, the other

Kirk Elderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05301246188133213386noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17852784.post-36497637211938482472009-04-21T18:33:00.010+01:002009-04-26T15:25:39.265+01:00The "Munter" Miss Susan Boyle, The Elephant Man, And The Polar Magnetism Of Mr Simon Cowell's Teeth

In the matter of deadly sins, I am far more likely to covet my neighbour's ox than to submit to jealousy. However, I can't deny that the unlikely success of the Blackburn chanteuse, Miss Susan Boyle, has set my heart aflutter with unusual palpitations. To be clear, I do not envy the woman her fate. Anyone submitting themselves to the slings and arrows of reality television will come, I suspect,

Kirk Elderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05301246188133213386noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17852784.post-33446574946751266402009-04-07T18:37:00.011+01:002009-04-07T20:38:16.227+01:00If the Credit Crunch Sounded Like A Breakfast Cereal, The "Downturn" Is A Meteorological State Which Must Be Endured With Stoicism And Spam

Firstly, an apology. I have been absent from these pages too long. I offer no excuses for my absence. I was in a blue funk and had nothing constructive to say, so decided to adhere to a maxim passed on to me by my mother, Mrs Elder (or Ma'am). Perhaps in deference to the wartime propaganda posters about loose lips and sinking ships which decorated the pantry, she was an advocate of eloquent

Kirk Elderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05301246188133213386noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17852784.post-35645702126150599022009-02-04T09:19:00.003Z2009-02-04T15:45:13.371ZGolliwogs and Miss Carol Thatcher: Another Case Of 'Political Correctness Gone Rife'

I have some experience in the matter of political correctness gone rife. My old lady editor at The Hootsmon used this phrase almost as a matter of punctuation to express her disgust at every aspect of modernity; a trick she had learned at that temple of unreasonable ire, the Daily Mail. But the sacking of Miss Carol Thatcher by the BBC is a puzzler. She should have been sacked long ago for being

Kirk Elderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05301246188133213386noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17852784.post-88215601745127945172009-01-19T10:45:00.008Z2009-01-19T11:57:48.058ZThe Cutbacks At The Hootsmon Canteen Are A Sad Symbol Of The Decline Of Our Notional Newspaper

I was saddened to hear that the staff canteen at my old employer, Scotland's Notional Newspaper, The Hootsmon, is - as the jargon has it - facing cutbacks. Employees at the paper will be forced to fend for themselves on Sundays, and will go hungry on weekdays after 2.30pm. On one level, of course, this is good news. Journalists, as a species, tend towards obesity, on account of all the free

Kirk Elderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05301246188133213386noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17852784.post-47373726632982897202009-01-13T13:54:00.006Z2009-01-13T14:27:03.789ZAsk Not For Whom The Burglar Alarm Tolls. It Tolls For Me. And It Keeps On A-Tolling

This morning, as yesterday, I awoke to the sound of a burglar alarm. The house opposite the Old Manse, a council property, has been unoccupied for some time, and empty, as far as I know, of valuables. The burglar alarm, as well as being unnecessary, is sensitive enough to be triggered by the flap of a starling's wing, the wisping of the breeze, or the cracking of thin frost, and can usefully be

Kirk Elderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05301246188133213386noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17852784.post-88556908757117945292008-10-30T17:21:00.007Z2008-10-30T19:00:54.315ZMr Russell Brand And Mr Jonathan Ross May Be Idiots, But They Should Be Spared The Pitch-forks Of Synthetic Ire

Much as I have enjoyed my visits to the Hammer House of Horror, I have always been suspicious of witch hunts. Perhaps because I have lived in Peebles for so long, I have an inbuilt scepticism of the pitchfork-wielding mob. Indeed, on more than one occasion I have had to seek sanctuary in the fatty nave of Big Eb’s chip shop, while the hoodlums did their worst. On such occasions, I tend to seek

Kirk Elderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05301246188133213386noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17852784.post-2485538955024413622008-09-29T19:50:00.006+01:002008-09-29T22:39:32.553+01:00Back To The Puggies On The Promenade As The Supercasino Of The World Economy Collapses

Supercasino Originally uploaded by Herschell Hershey. There have been many times, over the last 40 years, when I have found myself on the wrong side of history. The sale of the public utlities, in which the unemployed and the feckless were encouraged to join the share-owning minority, was one such occasion. It was not that I was unattracted by the idea of money for nothing - I have played

Kirk Elderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05301246188133213386noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17852784.post-3419212056595464722008-08-19T12:52:00.005+01:002008-08-19T14:36:13.224+01:00A Message From Our Sponsor: Click On The Advertisement Above To Keep The Peebles Showboaters in Butter Biscuits

As a man whose upbringing would have struck Pastor John Calvin as unduly joyless, I need no reminding of the impossibility of entering into a pact with the Devil. Indeed, this very afternoon, as part of the Peebles Showboaters’ Theology And Cinema course of which I am tutor, I watched The Masque Of The Red Death, in which a Satanic, and yet unusually restrained Mr Vincent Price attempts just

Kirk Elderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05301246188133213386noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17852784.post-73874114029994868402008-08-05T15:23:00.010+01:002008-12-09T09:30:12.260ZMr David Cameron May Be A Dab Hand With A Frisbee, But His Lusty Displays Will Not Help Beat Britain's Economic Woes

I am not in the habit of reading The Guardian, as I feel patronised enough in everyday life without having to pay 80p for the privilege. However, the paper was foisted on me by an underfed student as I made my way to an off-Fringe performance of The Gulag Archipelago on Ice at the Tartan Club in Edinburgh’s Fountainbridge, and my resistance was weak. From what I can tell, the newspaper of the

Kirk Elderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05301246188133213386noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17852784.post-51134186946752892202008-05-09T18:53:00.010+01:002008-12-09T09:30:12.352ZThe Senior Retainer, Mr Salmond And Ms Alexander Are Discussing The Future Of The Union With The Levity Of Children Arguing Over A Game Of Conkers.

I have never been fond of Mr Eric Miralles's architecture for the Scottish Parliament building. This Caledonian Casa Poporului looks, in my view, like a Surrealist car park, which is an altogether more interesting proposition than its actual function, which is to make the assembled cooncillors, party hacks, and accidental politicians feel important as they go about the business of not doing very

Kirk Elderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05301246188133213386noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17852784.post-23431948509846772642008-04-11T10:54:00.005+01:002008-12-09T09:30:12.402ZI Want To Work As If I Live In The First Days Of A Better Nation. How About Denmark?

Since the Nationalist junta run by the Senior Retainer Mr Alex Salmond took over the Casa Poporului on the lower slopes of the Royal Mile, I have been following the advice of Mr Alasdair Gray, and working as if I lived in the first days of a better nation. At first I chose Denmark, but the smell of bacon drove me to distraction, so I settled, instead, on the Scotland as it is reflected in the

Kirk Elderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05301246188133213386noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17852784.post-34481732443371342542008-01-25T11:42:00.001Z2008-12-09T09:30:12.515ZThe Sagging Gusset Of Mr Jeremy Paxman Was A Distraction On Newsnight, But The Newscaster Is Not Alone In His Discomfiture

It is with a degree of shame and guilt that I admit this: I have spent much of the week in anguished contemplation of Mr Jeremy Paxman's unmentionables. Mr Paxman - so often the voice of irascible unreason on BBC2's Newsnight - made an important contribution to the national debate when he criticised the quality of the undergarments and socks at Marks and Spencer's. I may be paraphrasing slightly

Kirk Elderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05301246188133213386noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17852784.post-7243775045977017212007-12-30T20:06:00.000Z2008-12-09T09:30:12.641ZIn An Unnatural Experiment, The Senior Retainer Mr Alex Salmond Gifted Optimism To The Nation in 2007. Surely It Will Not Last

By any measure, 2007 has been an extraordinary year in which to be Scottish. Indeed, if it were possible to resign one's nationhood, I might do it, as I fear I will be unable to stand the excitement for very much longer. In this morning's newspapers, I read that the Senior Retainer, Mr Alex Salmond, has been voted Scot of the Year, which seems inevitable, even if Mr Tony Blair recently owned up

Kirk Elderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05301246188133213386noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17852784.post-79554481946197553902007-11-09T17:44:00.000Z2008-12-09T09:30:12.789ZWell, Toss My Caber And Baste Me In Porridge Oats, Glasgow Has Won The Contest To Pay For The 2014 Commonwealth Games!

There will, I'm sure, be dancing in the streets of Springburn tonight in response to the news that Glasgow has won the contest to stage the Commonwealth Games in 2014. It is, of course, a great honour for the city and perhaps for the country, which - as I write - is flushed with the thrill of spending £288m on an event which few people follow, and fewer understand. Not many of us know what the

Kirk Elderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05301246188133213386noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17852784.post-74643403736618248782007-10-18T19:22:00.000+01:002008-12-09T09:30:12.963ZThe Scandals At The BBC And ITV Are Evidence Of Greed, Corruption And Corporate Idiocy. So Why Is There Nothing Good On The Telly?

On doctor's orders, I am forbidden from referring in detail to the several life sentences I spent as an employee of Scotland's Notional Newspaper, The Scotsman. However, the recent crises in television brought to mind an episode which now seems oddly prescient. It was several years ago, and took place in the editor's walnut-panelled den, a setting which might have graced a production of The

Kirk Elderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05301246188133213386noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17852784.post-60027001071892764242007-10-05T09:11:00.000+01:002008-12-09T09:30:13.084ZThe Post Office, One Of The Great Institutions Of State, Is Being Ruined By The Spivs And Weasels Of Commercial Greed

There was no post today, which was a blessed relief. There will be no post tomorrow, or for several days after that.This, I understand, will be a hardship to some, but not to me. It merely means that my doormat will not be smothered in invitations to plunge myself into debt, recycle my clothes, or join the Conservative and Unionist Party: these being three versions of the same thing. At some

Kirk Elderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05301246188133213386noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17852784.post-41240825287558132802007-10-03T16:22:00.000+01:002008-12-09T09:30:13.268ZMr David Cameron Wore Vitalis And Talked For Over An Hour, And The Conservative Party Rejoiced. But What Did He Say?

It was, I believe, the great comedian, Mr George Burns, who noted that "if you can fake sincerity, you've got it made". Mr David Cameron, in what could be his last speech to the Conservative Party conference, did not attempt to fake sincerity. He left that to his audience, a quite terrifying assembly of matrons and car salespersons, who showed every sign of being bored out of their bath chairs,

Kirk Elderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05301246188133213386noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17852784.post-69719341552221906092007-09-24T15:14:00.000+01:002008-12-09T09:30:13.406ZThe Singular Vision Of The Prime Minister, Mr Brown: Respect Is A Two Way Street, With Restricted Parking Between 8.30am-6.30pm

I am not sure whether the Prime Minister, Mr Brown, is familiar with the American rock'n'roll disc jockey, Mr Casem Kasem. I suspect not: he does not look like a man who has spent much time doing the hucklebuck. However, when watching Mr Brown's first Labour conference speech as Prime Minister, the catchphrase of Mr Kasem came to mind. It was, if memory serves: "Keep your feet on the ground and

Kirk Elderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05301246188133213386noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17852784.post-75517096919981933152007-09-20T09:19:00.000+01:002007-09-20T10:28:55.764+01:00Does The Chancellor, Mr Darling, Have A Darling In Every Port, Or Is He Just Unlucky Enough To Look Like A Banker?

It is often said that British people like to queue. This, I feel, is something of an exaggeration. The British like to feel as if they are part of the crowd, and filled with purpose. They will line-up to break crockery at the Harrods sale, or to place Esso flowers at the roadside of a fallen royal. They will even tolerate the lines at Post Offices, where they will be roped-in like calves awaiting

Kirk Elderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05301246188133213386noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17852784.post-22469465910577088962007-08-24T10:23:00.000+01:002008-12-09T09:30:13.568ZMr Alex Salmond Has Avoided Banana Skins In His First 100 Days: No Mean Feat In A Parliament Of Pygmies

The other morning, when the Senior Retainer, Mr Alex Salmond, was celebrating his first 100 days in office, I rose early and checked my reflection in the mirror. Steadying myself from the disappointment, I washed my face, before mashing the tea to the sound of Mr Edward Stourton mashing his vowels on BBC Radio 4's Today programme. (Mr Stourton reminds me of Sgt Wilson in Dad's Army, while in his

Kirk Elderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05301246188133213386noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17852784.post-16498103866453251862007-08-18T14:10:00.001+01:002007-08-18T14:12:49.485+01:00Edinburgh Is A City Of Bankers, But It Is Surely Unwise To Advertise This Affliction

Scotland Gets The Culture It Deserves Originally uploaded by Herschell Hershey. I will admit that, as a resident of Peebles, I am rarely in a position to take the pulse of the national polity. Peebles exists in a state that is like 1955, with slightly more traffic and heavier rain, and young people who advertise their ignorance by playing terrible music on their mobile telephones. But,

Kirk Elderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05301246188133213386noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17852784.post-43523329829525902842007-08-08T15:44:00.000+01:002008-12-09T09:30:13.788ZThe Campaign For Scotch News Must Be Resisted, As Life Is Depressing Enough Already

This morning, I was canvassed by a "think tank" on the subject of the Scottish Six, which has been made a priority by the Senior Retainer, Mr Alex Salmond. Mr Salmond, I understand, is in favour of a national news bulletin, edited and produced in Scotland. One may speculate about his motives, and it would surely be too cynical to suggest that he is in favour of Scotch News because it would easier

Kirk Elderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05301246188133213386noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17852784.post-1929431461962109832007-08-06T09:21:00.000+01:002007-08-06T09:49:41.337+01:00An Apology: Three Not Particularly Convincing Reasons Why I Became Invisible, And May Do So Again

Apologies for my absence from these "pages". There are many reasons for this but, in order of importance, the main ones are as follows. 1. I have been in a dwam for two months, caused by my sense of bafflement at the Scottish election result. 2. My computer, which is really an adding machine with a portable television Sellotaped to the side, has been suffering from foot-and-mouth disease,and has

Kirk Elderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05301246188133213386noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17852784.post-21729411806037084312007-06-11T13:00:00.001+01:002007-06-11T13:05:43.838+01:00Scotland Is Not The Worst Small Country In The World, Necessarily, But Mr Pat Kane's Diagnosis Of The Nation's Ills Is Odd Medicine

Welcome to Scotland (you'll have had your tea) Originally uploaded by Herschell Hershey. This morning, on Radio 4's Today programme, Mr James Naughtie announced something that many of us have suspected, but dared not enunciate. Scotland, according to a study, is officially The Worst Small Country In The World. The reasons for this judgment were complex, but in large part, they seemed to

Kirk Elderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05301246188133213386noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17852784.post-56691004321946270822007-05-24T15:30:00.000+01:002008-12-09T09:30:13.990ZMr Alex Salmond's "New Scotland" Is Oddly Familiar, But The Forward March Of History Has Reached The Teacake Factories Of Uddingston

Try as I have, I cannot get the hang of Mr Alasdair Gray's nationalist motivational workout, in which one wakes each morning as if in the first days of a new nation. It is not the waking that is the problem. I awake each morning at around 12.28, just after falling asleep, as the teenage drunks make their way home, stoned on lighter fuel, pheromones and fortified wine, pausing only to fight with

Kirk Elderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05301246188133213386noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17852784.post-31372337745796897382007-05-14T11:34:00.000+01:002007-05-14T11:38:24.102+01:00How Labour Won The Battle, But Lost The War, By A Man Who Should Keep Taking The Tablets

I have never had much time for opinion pollsters, but this description of how Labour "won" the Scottish election from Mr Phillip Gould is so inventive that it deserves to be classified as Magical Realism.

Kirk Elderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05301246188133213386noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17852784.post-23881160326180950422007-05-06T15:37:00.000+01:002008-12-09T09:30:14.166ZJings, Crivvens And Help Ma Boab - Scotland's Parliament Is A Guddle, A Bourach, A Midden

This morning - the third since the earthquake - I woke early, alerted by squalling robins serenading the mice in the coalhole. It is one of the perils of age that, once woken, nothing short of morphine can make sleep return and, as Mr Whippy's morphine van is not due until Thursday, I rose reluctantly. How did it feel, this new state? Oddly similar to the old one. I felt older, which is normal,

Kirk Elderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05301246188133213386noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17852784.post-5091009536462327372007-05-03T10:00:00.000+01:002008-12-09T09:30:14.324ZMr Alex Salmond May Resemble The Cartoon Monster Shrek, But His Fairytale Election Will Not Make Scotland A Magical Kingdom

This morning, as I prepare to make the lonely trek to the polling station, I feel the hand of history on my moleskins. Scotland, it seems, is on the verge of electing a nationalist administration on a platform of "independence lite", which means that while Mr Alex Salmond (above, right) will have the keys to Bute House, and a mandate to stick a sprig of lucky white heather in the radiator of the

Kirk Elderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05301246188133213386noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17852784.post-12994160952413819842007-04-20T17:01:00.000+01:002008-12-09T09:30:14.490ZTo Paraphrase Mrs Thatcher's Willie, The Senior Retainer, Mr Jack McConnell, Is Guilty Of Stirring Up Apathy

The other morning, as I was laying down the Spam and the tins of Marvel in the coal hole, in anticipation of the calamity which will follow independence, I found myself puzzling over the logic of the current election. There is, you may have heard, an election campaign underway in Scotland, although I have not, as yet, set eyes on a candidate, or been able to attend a public meeting, as elections

Kirk Elderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05301246188133213386noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17852784.post-44878996903335889282007-04-03T09:30:00.000+01:002008-12-09T09:30:14.584ZWhither Scotland? The Last Days Of Mr Jack McConnell Are A Like A Wistful Nuclear Winter

The nation, apparently, is in ferment. An election is underway. Rosettes are being ironed, and freshly-laundered babies delivered to party headquarters, so that they may be kissed by strange men - a fate which would prompt a lynch mob in any other month. Looking out from the windows of the Old Manse, it is hard to imagine that revolution is in the air. The weather, as usual, is like a nuclear

Kirk Elderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05301246188133213386noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17852784.post-85621267882018891022007-03-14T13:42:00.000Z2007-03-16T12:58:29.216ZMr Jeremy Paxman's Contempt For His Boneheaded Colleagues Cannot Quite Excuse The Painful Populism of the BBC

In general, I am not in favour of the television journalist, Mr Jeremy Paxman, a gentleman who reads the news with the impatience of a man astride a bike of wasps, but I must confess I have been warming to him in recent weeks. On BBC2's Newsnight (English edition, which I receive by spinning the coat-hanger aerial in the general direction of Mountbenger or Cappercleuch) he alone has stood out

Kirk Elderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05301246188133213386noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17852784.post-52657802777922233042007-02-08T18:29:00.000Z2008-12-09T09:30:14.868ZThe Economist's Talk Of "Affluenza" Is Typically Misguided, But It Doesn't Make the BBC's Mr Huw Edwards Any Less Frightening

I am not in the habit of reading The Economist magazine, as I have always believed economists to be a species beneath pity. My mother, Mrs Elder (or Ma'am), on sending me to the Co-operative for morning rolls, would hand me the money with a stern warning that I was not to be diverted by beggars, gamblers or bank managers - these all being persons of the same kidney - and her lecture would end

Kirk Elderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05301246188133213386noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17852784.post-71997507957020689502007-01-12T09:31:00.000Z2008-12-09T09:30:15.045ZThe Sandwich-Board Men Are Right. The End Is Nigh. A Solution To Global Warming.

The weather, as a bald poet once noted, is variable, and so are we. But I wonder, at the risk of succumbing to False Memory Syndrome, whether the weather is worse than it used to be. It is winter, of course, so we should expect extremes of cold, and frosts, and perhaps the odd dusting of sleet. In January, too, a little wind may blow. The January sales are accompanied by the January gales. I

Kirk Elderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05301246188133213386noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17852784.post-64721416235889485602006-12-29T12:36:00.000Z2008-12-09T09:30:15.150ZThe Festive Season Has Become A Scrummage Over A Cheap Vest, And Is Best Avoided

I do not believe in December, a month blighted by Christmas. In the days of my childhood it was dark and cold, and nature was dormant. Nothing happened, save the frost, and the mist, and the general sense of drear. In Scotland, Christmas was noted quietly, without fuss, but the Bacchanalian excesses were saved for the ominous cacophony of the bells on Hogmanay,after which there were whisky and

Kirk Elderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05301246188133213386noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17852784.post-10798225225081225482006-12-06T16:51:00.000Z2008-12-09T09:30:15.345ZIn The Heat Of War, The Cliche Is The Enemy, So It Is Time To Disarm Those Who Talk Of Silver Bullets

Once, when I was employed in an advisory capacity at Scotland's Notional Newspaper, The Scotsman, I happened to mention to a young reporter that her story was full of cliches. It was, to coin a phrase, jam-packed with prefabricated language. The wastepaper bin at the Hallmark card factory would have contained less weary verbiage. But the reporter was unabashed. "Cliches become cliches," she

Kirk Elderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05301246188133213386noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17852784.post-47149354940431578092006-12-01T10:01:00.000Z2006-12-01T10:17:43.762ZFurther Evidence That The BBC Is Broadcasting In An Open-Necked Shirt

This morning on BBC Radio Four's Desert Island Discs, I heard Ms Kirsty Young use the word "chavs" without irony or apology. Moments later, a news announcer read a report which included the phrase "economic no-brainer"; a term which should never be used, unless in connection with Lord (Norman) Lamont. Another two daisies on the grave of Lord Reith.

Kirk Elderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05301246188133213386noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17852784.post-73240663220161452112006-11-29T18:51:00.000Z2006-11-29T20:00:09.125ZA Voluntary Holiday On St Andrew's Day Is A Triumph For The Politics Of The Daft Patriotic Gesture

As a Senior Citizen, I take a dim view of public holidays. In general, I side with the late Mr Mick McGahey, who I once observed at close quarters in Larry's barbershop, in the basement of 10 Montgomery Street, Leith. The gruff miners' leader - though it should be noted that Mr McGahey led all Scottish miners, and not just the gruff ones - was having a pensioners' short-back-and-sides at the

Kirk Elderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05301246188133213386noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17852784.post-39393969668010559652006-11-28T09:20:00.000Z2006-11-30T16:44:33.912ZFarewell to The Great Entertainer, Mr Michael Grade. (You Can Stop Spinning In Your Grave Now, Lord Reith)

My relationship with television is, I admit, unusual. My mother, Mrs Elder (or Ma'am), came from Brethren stock, and thus harboured a suspicion of all electrical appliances, with the exception of her Kenwood Chef, which was employed to make all manner of cakes (fairy, angel), puddings (butterscotch Instant Whip, mostly)and a surprising array of savoury dishes which did not usually require the

Kirk Elderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05301246188133213386noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17852784.post-89561855797646922202006-10-31T09:23:00.000Z2006-10-31T13:04:33.995ZIn The Autumn, My Doorstep Becomes A Springy Mat Of Red Elastic

This morning, on stepping oustide my front door, I was catapulted into the earth's atmosphere. In the moments which followed, I saw various kinds of flotsam and jetsam - discarded rayguns, wrappers from astronaut ice cream, a Hillman Imp being driven by Laika, the space dog - before performing a quarter-front somersault with two-and-a-half twists, and landing perfectly on the cushioned soles of

Kirk Elderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05301246188133213386noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17852784.post-7552616745758203612006-10-18T15:29:00.000+01:002006-10-21T10:22:05.412+01:00Mr Idi Amin May Have Been A Genocidal Maniac, But He Was No Fan Of The See You Jimmy Wig, And For That He Must Be Praised

As well as being Honorary President (Acting) of the Peebles Showboaters' Amateur Dramatic Society, it is my great pleasure to be Creative Director of the Peebles Stargazers' International Film Festival, which is Scotland's longest-running festival devoted to the films of Mr Burt Lancaster. This year, we have been screening a double bill of Elmer Gantry and The Swimmer, and I was happy to give the

Kirk Elderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05301246188133213386noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17852784.post-27122176828009819562006-10-12T14:44:00.000+01:002006-10-12T14:52:13.470+01:00The Impossible Dream of Mrs Alice Sheridan

I hesitate to share this knowledge, but there is a truly frightening video of Mrs Alice Sheridan, mother of Mr Tommy of that ilk, singing. You can see it by clicking here. Before doing this, you should be warned that watching it is rather like attending the wedding of a stranger in Glasgow; or possibly the funeral...

Kirk Elderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05301246188133213386noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17852784.post-37559370619080426322006-10-09T15:52:00.000+01:002006-10-09T16:46:04.118+01:00Mr Alastair Campbell Is Not A Crocodile, But That Does Not Make His Tears Any Less Intimidating

Without wishing to cast asparagus on the motives of Mr Alastair Campbell and Mr David Blunkett - fine former public servants both - I am a little disturbed that both of them have gone on record as recovering depressives. A cynic, which I am not, might find a link between their "confessions" and the success, in the opinion polls, of Mr David Cameron's Sunshine Party. In the twisted morality of the

Kirk Elderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05301246188133213386noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17852784.post-1159992228096354502006-10-04T20:23:00.000+01:002006-10-05T15:04:34.633+01:00Mr Sheridan, The Astronaut, And The True Meaning Of "Swinging"

I try, if I can, to avoid thinking about Mr Tommy Sheridan. But, like his ideological soul-mate, Mr George Galloway, he is a magnet for controversy. Mr Sheridan would have us believe that this is due to the efforts of MI5 to blacken his name, but I find this an unconvincing argument. I have seen The Ipcress File, and I understand it to be an accurate reflection of the activities of The Service.

Kirk Elderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05301246188133213386noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17852784.post-1159443646315014452006-09-28T12:05:00.000+01:002006-09-29T18:10:45.150+01:00Which Doctor? Theatrical Impressions Of The People's Party At Play In Manchester

The Prime Minister, Mr Blair, has received many plaudits for his speech at the Labour Party Conference in Manchester, and rightly so. Theatrically speaking, it was splendid. I have not seen such easy command of the public stage since Mr David Rintoul played Baron Hardup in Cinderella. Generally, Mr Blair is a terrible ham, and he is at his best when he is asked to deliver news that is optimistic,

Kirk Elderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05301246188133213386noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17852784.post-1158835275345256682006-09-21T11:22:00.000+01:002006-09-21T22:31:06.446+01:00The Women Of Dalkeith Are An Anthropologist's Delight, But We Should Be Wary Of Popular Science

I was disturbed, this morning, to open my newspaper and find an image of myself staring back. For a moment I assumed that my tireless work for the community had been recognised, and I was being ennobled. But then I remembered that I had never met Lord Levy, and have never been in a position to lend a political party several million pounds. Nor, I regret to say, have I ever been offered a "bung",

Kirk Elderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05301246188133213386noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17852784.post-1158073702937984332006-09-12T16:08:00.000+01:002006-09-20T14:07:37.130+01:00If The Chancellor's Unmentionables Must Be Mentioned, We Should Be Thankful That They Come From Marks and Spencer

Much has been written about the Chancellor, Mr Brown, over this past week, and most of it would benefit from being unwritten, if such a thing were possible. Mr Brown has been castigated for not smiling, and cremated for smiling too much. He is condemned when he does not act and mocked when he does. With disturbing frequency, he is described as "too Scottish"; a criticism one might make of Sir

Kirk Elderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05301246188133213386noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17852784.post-1157539201768401172006-09-06T11:40:00.000+01:002006-09-08T16:09:16.416+01:00Mr Blair Is A Sick Whale Or A Fading King, And The Courtiers Are Growing Restless

Much as I enjoy pointless cruelty, the sight of the Prime Minister, Mr Blair, struggling to resist retirement, has been a painful one. When he doesn't resemble the bronchial Thames whale, being coaxed into open water by a caravanserai of insincere well-wishers, he is like King Lear pondering his departure from the stage. I picture him at breakfastin Number 10 Downing Street, tormented by his

Kirk Elderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05301246188133213386noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17852784.post-1155826342679108122006-08-17T15:43:00.000+01:002006-08-30T21:14:37.906+01:00The Sad Decline Of Scotland Can Be Measured in Pan Drops

Over the years, we Scots have grown used to the decline of manufacturing industry. We no longer make ships, or cars, or watches, or anything very much. But I fear that the decline of the country has gone too far with the news that production of McOwan's toffee and Millar's pan drops is to cease. In my childhood, the "penny chew" was a currency greater than money, and if it was to blame for a

Kirk Elderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05301246188133213386noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17852784.post-1155721200109753072006-08-16T10:23:00.000+01:002006-08-19T01:35:49.203+01:00World Champions Are Made Of Marmalade, And Other Uplifting Thoughts

I am not, by habit, often to be found at film premieres, but I was happy to attend the screening of The Flying Scotsman at the Edinburgh International Film Festival. I must say, I found it to be a most peculiar event, not least because it was my first visit to a "multiplex" cinema, Cineworld in Fountainbridge. The multiplex is every bit as ugly as its name would suggest. As architecture, it is

Kirk Elderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05301246188133213386noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17852784.post-1154946510704891012006-08-07T11:21:00.000+01:002006-08-11T20:49:33.006+01:00Mr Tommy Sheridan And The Ethics Of Decimalisation

Many aspects of Mr Tommy Sheridan's theatrical triumph continue to puzzle me, but above all I am baffled his use of the phrase "as dodgy as a ten bob note" to describe the minute of the meeting at which he did, or did not, admit to visiting what my mother, Mrs Elder (or Ma'am) would have called "a den of iniquity" in Manchester. Mr Sheridan is old enough to remember decimalisation, and will thus

Kirk Elderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05301246188133213386noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17852784.post-1154518214800587492006-08-02T11:49:00.000+01:002006-08-03T11:12:29.770+01:00Mr Fear Of Onions, Lord Olivier, And That Torquemada Of The Tanning Booth, Mr Tommy Sheridan

I am officially dumfoonert. A few days ago, I was reading about the hypnotist and "motivational speaker" Mr Paul McKenna, who sued a newspaper over scurillous reports that he had purchased a "bogus degree" from La Salle University, Louisiana. Mr Victor Lewis-Smith wrote in The Mirror: "Anyone could be fully doctored by La Salle within months (no previous qualifications needed), just so long as

Kirk Elderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05301246188133213386noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17852784.post-1153305834503748202006-07-19T11:02:00.000+01:002006-08-11T21:24:16.266+01:00With Global Warming, The End Of The World Is Nigh, But That Is No Reason To Go Shopping In Your Unmentionables, Sir

These days, barely a day goes by without a warning about global warming, and its dire effects. As a matter of temperament, I am rather in favour of this: the end, if not exactly nigh, is undoubtedly lurking around the corner with a baseball bat. But I do wonder why - if catastrophe is so obviously imminent - we do nothing about it. There is no moratorium on sales of motor cars, cheap air travel

Kirk Elderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05301246188133213386noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17852784.post-1152187469830642682006-07-06T13:00:00.000+01:002006-07-09T04:17:39.636+01:00This is Peebles

Peeblesshire News Originally uploaded by Herschell Hershey. My friend, Mr Hershey, has captured this image of Peebles at its most dynamic. I am not technically-minded, but I am assured that he used a very fast shutter speed to capture the hurly-burly. Even so, I detect a slight blurring around the lady's feet.

Kirk Elderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05301246188133213386noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17852784.post-1152091402881494152006-07-05T09:36:00.000+01:002006-07-06T20:44:28.313+01:00Mr Jeremy Paxman, That Irksome Scunner Of The Scots, Drives A Battered Vauxhall Astra Into The War On Neds

Further evidence - as if any were needed - of the ineffectiveness of the War on Neds has been provided by BBC2's Newsnight. The programme drove a Vauxhall Astra around Scotland festooned with the flag of St George, as part of a serious investigation into the problem of anti-English racism. (Translation for readers in Caledonia: In an attempt to have some knockabout fun with the Jocks, a

Kirk Elderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05301246188133213386noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17852784.post-1151597582448956712006-06-29T17:09:00.000+01:002006-07-01T23:27:13.630+01:00The Neds Have Taken Over The Executive, And Mr McConnell Is Being Measured For A Burberry Mini-Kilt

Scottish Culture Originally uploaded by Herschell Hershey. Often in life, I have the feeling that I have missed a meeting. This sensation comes from my inbuilt punctiliousness, and is rarely based on fact. Far from missing meetings, I chair them, take minutes, and sometimes attend them, even when they have been cancelled. But still the eerie sensation persists that there are mysterious

Kirk Elderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05301246188133213386noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17852784.post-1150818350381061452006-06-20T16:42:00.000+01:002006-09-10T13:18:41.906+01:00When Looking For A Deerstalker, It Pays To Know The Difference Between A Stoat And A Weasel

Peebles fashions, with stag and weasel (could be stoat) Originally uploaded by Herschell Hershey. For many years now I have been in the habit of travelling into Edinburgh to do my shopping; for vests, mostly. It has been a matter of habit, rather than convenience, and has continued against the growing realisation that something terrible has happened to the shops in the capital. Without

Kirk Elderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05301246188133213386noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17852784.post-1150386644276191462006-06-15T16:41:00.000+01:002006-07-04T20:26:49.460+01:00The New Editor Of The Scotsman Is That Saucy Wee Bauchle, Lulu (Slight Exaggeration)

Recently, the pop singer Mr Bono of U2 was allowed to edit The Independent, and commissioned the artist Mr Damien Hirst to design a front page publicising the fact that there was no news in the paper. This was a radical step, but quite in keeping with the idiosyncratic approach of that newspaper. Inspired by this, and by the continued editorial vacancy at the Scotsman, this site has been running

Kirk Elderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05301246188133213386noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17852784.post-1150279291798364452006-06-14T11:01:00.000+01:002006-06-18T20:42:36.883+01:00They Tuck You Up, Your Mum And Dad: Swearing On The BBC - Part 57

Yesterday, on Radio 4's The World at One, the BBC broadcast the "f-word". They repeated the trick on the television news at 10pm. At 7pm, Channel 4 News broadcast the same clip, but chose to bleep the word, which was, nevertheless, identifiable. The context of this lunge into industrial language was the press conference given by Mr Mohammed Abdul Kahar and his brother Mr Abul Koyair, who were

Kirk Elderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05301246188133213386noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17852784.post-1150095195628980892006-06-12T07:49:00.000+01:002006-06-13T18:45:58.360+01:00England Pants: Official (NB: Not suitable for children. Or, indeed, adults)

England pants Originally uploaded by Herschell Hershey.In the spirit of international co-operation and tolerance (plus a sweet tooth), I was prepared to embrace the England doughnuts, described below, as a welcome side-effect of this FIFA World Cup. I am less sure about these unmentionables, photographed by my friend, Mr Hershey.

Kirk Elderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05301246188133213386noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17852784.post-1149684861398740482006-06-07T13:46:00.000+01:002006-06-13T00:12:21.776+01:00The Glazed Doughnut Of English Nationalism - A World Cup Symbol Of Cross-border Co-operation?

As the FIFA World Cup approaches with all the charm of a locust storm, there will, I am sure, remain a hardcore of fanatics who imagine that the tournament has something to do with sport and the Corinthian spirit, when it is actually a commercial enterprise in which the shallow hopes of the world's downtrodden are inflated (and then deflated) in a choreographed conspiracy of commerce. Not that

Kirk Elderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05301246188133213386noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17852784.post-1149505020068396622006-06-05T11:57:00.000+01:002006-06-06T14:35:49.836+01:00World Cup Apathy Approaches Fever Pitch: An Englishman Argues For His Country's Defeat

The debates about the merits of Mr John Prescott have prompted many commentators to compare him to that late son of Nairn, Mr (later Viscount) Willie Whitelaw, who was memorialised by Mrs (later Lady) Thatcher with the worrying remark "everyone needs a Willie". Mr Whitelaw made his own contribution to the gaiety of the nation during the 1974 General Election, when he accused the Labour Party of "

Kirk Elderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05301246188133213386noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17852784.post-1149265222838563122006-06-02T17:12:00.000+01:002006-06-11T01:41:10.973+01:00The Prime of Mr Ronald Neame, Director Of Jean Brodie And The Poseidon Adventure

I have written before of my admiration for the film director and cameraman, Mr Ronald Neame, whose work included contributions to Great Expectations, Brief Encounter, Tunes of Glory and (his least favourite, but most successful picture), The Poseidon Adventure. He deserves to be remembered fondly in Scotland for directing Ms Muriel Spark's novel, The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie. An agreeable

Kirk Elderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05301246188133213386noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17852784.post-1149172284641518562006-06-01T15:31:00.000+01:002006-06-01T18:29:35.253+01:00Mr John Prescott May Resemble The Club Steward On A Cross-Channel Ferry, But That Is A Useful Role In A Cabinet Presided Over By Mr Bobby Crush

Public life has been a procession of dafties for so long now that it is hard to remember a time when it was anything else. There were a few good moments in 1961, I believe, but everything went wrong when Mr Philip Larkin discovered sexual intercourse. I have not been able to relax in a public library since. However, I find myself oddly sympathetic to the plight of Mr John Prescott, who has

Kirk Elderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05301246188133213386noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17852784.post-1149102148387830942006-05-31T19:29:00.000+01:002006-06-01T05:45:05.883+01:00Mr Michael Powell, The Scotsman Editor, And A Beautiful Premonition Of Doom

I spent a grand afternoon at the Athenian Hall watching Mr Michael Powell's splendid 1937 film, The Edge of the World. The film is a beautiful work of cinematography, made more colourful by being shot in black-and-white, and concerns the slow death of the fictional Hebridean island of Hirta (based on the evacuation of St Kilda, but filmed on Foula). There is much to commend about it, including

Kirk Elderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05301246188133213386noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17852784.post-1148897235537880752006-05-29T11:06:00.000+01:002006-05-30T16:27:14.533+01:00The Verbal Tics Of Mr Blair And Mr Cameron: A Translation For The Politically Bamboozled

As a seasoned thespian and judge of amateur theatrics, I am familiar with vocal tics and verbal hiccoughs. In recent years, I have grown to admire the performances of the Prime Minister, Mr Tony Blair, who employs the persuasive pleading of a promenade preacher from a Summer Mission, ordering his congregation into submission with a sudden descent from high-flown rhetoric into the demotic

Kirk Elderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05301246188133213386noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17852784.post-1148575822001166022006-05-25T17:34:00.000+01:002006-05-26T16:56:25.016+01:00Mr David Cameron's Infatuation With Kamikaze Milkmen Is A Worry And A Danger, And Is Made No Better By Its Association With Mr Benny Hill

I have long been suspicious of the musical choices made by politicians on BBC Radio 4's Desert Island Discs. With the possible exception of Lady Thatcher, and her peculiar insistence on the merits of Mr Rolf Harris's childish parable, Two Little Boys, these musical selections most often arrive with the whiff of the focus group about them. (In this category, we may place the Chancellor, Mr Brown's

Kirk Elderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05301246188133213386noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17852784.post-1148400250773536942006-05-23T16:26:00.000+01:002006-05-30T10:48:02.146+01:00Ms Ruth Wishart, The Scottish Question, And The Role Of Ethnic Vegetables In This Summer's FIFA World Cup

In Peebles, thankfully, one is insulated from the worst aspects of football fanaticism. The local team, Peebles Rovers, held Hibernian to a goalless draw in 1923, but their efforts in recent years have been less spectacular. None of which explains why the FIFA World Cup should be allowed to blight the summer, but there is every sign that it will. Already in The Herald, the indomitable Ms Ruth

Kirk Elderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05301246188133213386noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17852784.post-1147947602228809852006-05-18T11:17:00.000+01:002006-05-21T21:54:46.393+01:00Rosslyn Chapel, The Da Vinci Cod, And A Wheelbarrow Full Of Manure (Not Neccessarily Involving Mr Tom Hanks)

DSCN1201 Originally uploaded by Herschell Hershey. The film of Mr Dan Brown's terrible novel The Da Vinci Code opens in cinemas today, and is sure to bring thousands of conspiracy theorists to Rosslyn Chapel, Midlothian, in search of the Holy Grail. Instead, they will find mugs in the souvenir shop with a picture of a fish on the side, and the legend, "the Da Vinci cod". Hopefully, the

Kirk Elderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05301246188133213386noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17852784.post-1147693539177359522006-05-15T12:04:00.000+01:002006-05-25T12:25:53.410+01:00Paradise Lost In The Observer: Take A Train To Haddington And A Taxi To Never-Never Land

Journalism is an abject trade, and travel journalism is its most corrupt chapter. It existence has nothing to do with the interests of the reader, and everything to do with advertising. You might expect journalists to complain about this, as they are never slow to accuse others of hypocrisy or corruption. But they do not. Complaining would mean that they were no longer able to embark on free

Kirk Elderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05301246188133213386noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17852784.post-1146836121644167272006-05-05T14:32:00.000+01:002006-05-11T00:25:57.110+01:00Mr Alexander Boris de Pfeffel Johnson MP Versus Germany. Where Are You When We Need You, Mr Eddie Waring?

As a politician, Mr Alexander Boris de Pfeffel Johnson MP has always treated public affairs as if he were appearing on an edition of It's A Knockout. In this video clip, he appears to be taking this approach to a new level.

Kirk Elderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05301246188133213386noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17852784.post-1146820878029468102006-05-05T09:16:00.000+01:002006-05-05T15:30:43.416+01:00Modern Dentistry Offers The Smile Of Mr Cary Grant To The Wealthy And A Toffee Hammer To The Rest Of Us. And Go Easy On The Courgettes!

As a gentleman of a certain age, I have survived several different dental fashions, and I now find myself caught between them, with the defiant smile of a circus boxer. As a young man, I was led to believe in progress. In dental terms, this meant aspiring to false teeth from the earliest possible age, and replacing them with teak incisors. These could be maintained by gargling with linseed oil,

Kirk Elderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05301246188133213386noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17852784.post-1146656583430053162006-05-03T12:22:00.000+01:002006-05-05T08:10:00.650+01:00Edinburgh's Floral Clock Used To Be A Riot Of Colour, Now It Is A Dismal Mossy Verge. Will The Summer Ever Bloom?

It is, I confess, a couple of weeks since I was in Edinburgh, but on reviewing the package of pictures I received this morning from Krappy Snaps, I was reminded of the disappointment I felt on visiting Princes Street Gardens. This, you must understand, was quite separate from my usual catalogue of disappointments, and was not even related to the act of corporate vandalism which has obliterated

Kirk Elderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05301246188133213386noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17852784.post-1146590783458191552006-05-02T18:22:00.000+01:002006-05-05T08:10:42.843+01:00Mr David Cameron Is A Shakespearian Imp With A Chaffeur For His Shoes. He Should Spare Us His Emissions By Driving An Electric Bubble Car

Since Mr David Cameron rose without trace to become the peach-skinned leader of the Conservative Party, I have seen little to change my initial impression that he is a flibbertigibbet. I mean this in the Shakespearian sense of the word - as defined on the excellent World Wide Words site - meaning a demon or an imp. In King Lear, Edgar describes one such creature: “He gives the web and the pin,

Kirk Elderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05301246188133213386noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17852784.post-1146060728796548902006-04-26T15:00:00.000+01:002006-04-29T10:21:23.310+01:00On Edinburgh's Royal Mile, A Pink Bouquet For A Chubby, Toga-Wearing Hero Of The Enlightenment (Clue: Not Mr John Prescott)

As if a vision of the Grim Reaper was not enough, my trip to Edinburgh involved a walk along the High Street, where I was able to inspect the tarmacadam which has been laid over the cobbles in order to make this historic highway a Formula One track for malevolent taxis and hormonal boys with "spoilers" on the tailfins of their Ford Escorts. While I was there, two things happened. Both were

Kirk Elderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05301246188133213386noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17852784.post-1145904794797632512006-04-24T19:39:00.000+01:002006-04-25T16:07:55.463+01:00Hell's Bells! The Grim Reaper Can Be Seen In The Shadow Of The Rev. John Knox

At my stage in life, it is wise to ignore portents, signs and symbols. They are, if one's mind is open to metaphor, everywhere. It is better, then, to carry on in the manner of the Roadrunner in a Bugs Bunny cartoon, not fearing cliffs, and running on into open air regardless.Certainly, I was in a blue mood the other day, when I passed through Edinburgh on my way back from the funeral of the "

Kirk Elderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05301246188133213386noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17852784.post-1145540770312255792006-04-20T14:17:00.000+01:002006-04-23T17:54:01.773+01:00The Da Vinci Code, The Holy Grail, And A Satirical Wheelbarrow At Rosslyn Chapel

I have, as you may have noticed, been away. I spent the best part of the last week attempting to work the Gaz stove whilst listening to the percussion of the rain on the rusting lid of the Dormobile. It was not a relaxing break, but my measure of a good holiday was best summed up by Mr Frank Sinatra, who famously observed that while it is nice to go a-travellin', it's so much nicer at home. (This

Kirk Elderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05301246188133213386noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17852784.post-1145487183515456642006-04-19T23:49:00.000+01:002006-04-20T11:43:06.500+01:00Mr Elder Is Away, But Not With The Fairies

Mr Elder apologises for his recent absence. He has been away in the Dormobile; pictured here at Gullane Bents. He has now returned, and will resume normal service shortly.

Kirk Elderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05301246188133213386noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17852784.post-1144744766415526562006-04-11T09:39:00.000+01:002006-04-19T15:57:37.563+01:00I Am Justified And Ancient, This Is An Age Of Callowness And Youthful Idiocy, And That Is Why I Will Never Star In Doctor Who

As a child, I was warned about ambition. My mother, Mrs Elder (or Ma'am), was of the belief that ambition rode in on a dark horse called Disappointment. "Disappointment is your friend," she would tell me, rapping my nose with a percussive spurtle. "Welcome him, or he will ride you to Hell." It was, and remains, good advice. When one anticipates disappointment, the pain is diminished, though even

Kirk Elderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05301246188133213386noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17852784.post-1144387547864684642006-04-07T06:11:00.000+01:002006-04-10T23:42:36.786+01:00Bird Flu: Permission To Panic, Sir

When it comes to health panics, I have always been of the opinion that no reassurance should ever be offered to the public. This morning on Radio Four I heard a scientist explain that there really was no risk to the public from "bird flu". In the same breath, he cheerily advised against eating runny boiled eggs, and suggested that chicken be cooked with the assistance of something called a meat

Kirk Elderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05301246188133213386noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17852784.post-1144353756616119802006-04-06T20:59:00.000+01:002006-04-06T21:04:14.126+01:00Mr Gene Pitney, 24 Hours Past Tulsa

Further to my item on newspaper billboards, below, Mr H Hershey of London submits this unfortunate juxtaposition, advertising Wednesday's Evening Standard.

Kirk Elderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05301246188133213386noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17852784.post-1144253961068315292006-04-05T17:13:00.000+01:002006-04-05T17:19:21.260+01:00Tartan Week Poll Results: Oor Wullie Pips Penny Chew, While Mr Henry McLeish Proves More Popular Than An OAP In A Leather Kilt

The poll results are in. You were asked: Rather than spend £480,000 on Tartan Day, the Scottish Executive should have spent the money on what? You replied: 34% - Angel of the North-style statue of Oor Wullie 30% - A McCowan's toffee chew for every child, plus free visit to Polish dentist 23% - The Henry McLeish Library and Museum 6% - Premium bonds 5% - Free leather kilts for all OAPs This

Kirk Elderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05301246188133213386noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17852784.post-1144244646732909302006-04-05T14:35:00.000+01:002006-04-05T18:34:23.923+01:00The Strange Case Of Mr George Galloway MP, And The Fake Sheikh

A note arrives in a manilla envelope, with a photograph attached. The picture is said to reveal the identity of the News of the World's "Fake Sheikh", Mr Mazher Mahmood. The note is signed, "Mr G Galloway, MP, Baghdad South". Usually, when I am "being had" I don't notice. On this occasion, I do.

Kirk Elderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05301246188133213386noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17852784.post-1144161223348580602006-04-04T15:21:00.000+01:002006-04-04T15:41:14.626+01:00As New York Eats Haggis Canapes, A Final Chance To Vote

As the great, the good, and several Scottish people gather to fight over haggis canapes in New York, the time has come to bring this site's opinion poll (see below, right) to a close. It offered alternative uses for the public money which has taken our leaders to their annual knees-up in New York and even prompted Mr Alex Salmond to wear a kilt against his better nature, and medical advice. So

Kirk Elderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05301246188133213386noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17852784.post-1144068298884752462006-04-03T13:30:00.000+01:002006-04-05T22:07:17.260+01:00HM, The Queen And My Sex Abuse Shame

I was intrigued to read in The Guardian that the London Evening Standard recently attempted to lure readers with a bill which read; "Queen takes cab to the theatre". It is, I confess, an intriguing image, though I was left wondering how Her Majesty managed to manoeuvre the cab into the Royal Box. Perhaps it was able to ascend the stairway by means of a wheelchair ramp. The Guardian's Mr Kim

Kirk Elderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05301246188133213386noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17852784.post-1143821340987284542006-03-31T16:43:00.000+01:002006-04-03T09:06:44.033+01:00If Mr Ronnie Corbett Was King, Would Charles Be Queen? A Gay Old Solution To The Crisis In The Monarchy

When it comes to popular music I am no Sir Jimmy Savile, which is a blessed relief. As such, I must confess that I am not aware of the singer, Mr Morrissey, though I am told by my informants in the tambourine-playing corner of the Youth Fellowship that he a cross between Mr Johnnie Ray, Mr Kenneth Williams, and Mr Joe Orton, which is worrying, to say the least. Anyway, I understand also that Mr

Kirk Elderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05301246188133213386noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17852784.post-1143736578893908872006-03-30T17:19:00.000+01:002006-04-03T09:37:13.170+01:00A Pungent Message To Mr Blair From A Vandal With A Spelling Impediment

There are times, I confess, when I become downhearted about the level of political discourse in this country. But occasionally I have what my mother, Mrs Elder (or Ma'am), used to call "a moment", in which things do not seem quite as bad. (Mrs Elder was no optimist, and believed sincerely that good cheer should be avoided, in the certain knowledge that it was always followed by disappointment.)

Kirk Elderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05301246188133213386noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17852784.post-1143543015262905822006-03-28T11:41:00.000+01:002006-03-30T00:45:09.766+01:00A Microwaveable Solution To Cold Hands, If Not Global Warming Or Bearded Ladies

I do not possess as a microwave oven, as I have always taken the view that if a pie is worth eating, it is worth waiting for, and I am sure it is only a matter of time before we discover that the habit of bombarding food with weird energy is unhealthy, if not directly to blame for the increased appearance of people with six toes, second heads, or bald, bearded ladies in the greater Borders region

Kirk Elderhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05301246188133213386noreply@blogger.com6