Kurds, Turds And Dear Ronnie.

12/11/2005

I sit in comfort after a hard day’s labour and spiritual enlightenment. It is the second Sunday of the month and as many of you will know Bridge of Orchy kirk is open for business at 11.30am prompt. I must confess that I have been less than enthusiastic in my attendance following the transfer to Spain of The Rev Sheddon, of whom I was a huge fan. However, today’s effort was pretty good and I approved of the theme that Jesus is the “Reason for the Season”, and that one must stand up bravely for one’s belief and not be a timid Christian, to say nothing of an excellent selection of gutsy hymns. Perhaps the service lacked the Rev Sheddon’s evangelical touch that I always enjoyed so much, but I left the kirk much refreshed. It is only a pity that the Hotel Bar next to the kirk is firmly closed at this time of year, so I was unable to slip in for my regular pre-prandial stiffener.

However, my day has also been brightened by the presence of my No10 mole, Ronnie Armstrong, who appeared out of the dark and rain last night, hot foot from the capital to warn me against the anti Kurdish sentiments that he had supposed I broadcast in my last scribble. I was, of course, able to reassure him that he had indeed misread my parting shot and that the Kurds are completely safe from my displeasure. Ronnie and I have spent an agreeable afternoon wall building in the rain and mud; on the one hand, Ronnie telling me that the Kurds are absolutely at the top of President Blair’s guest list. They are smoothing Turkey’s entry into the Euro Club, to say nothing of the small matter of helping to disable thousands of Sunni’s in support of George W, in addition to the trillions of cubes of natural gas bubbling below their ancestral lands.  On the other hand Ronnie briefed me about fossil fuel levies, isn’t wonderful how a perfectly sound idea can be ballsed up by greed and incompetence. Apparently, energy brokers now buy and sell the certificates that industry require to comply with the levies, some things called LECs and ROCs, at a considerable margin. It seems as a rersult that electricity is twice the price it should be and that around a billion is being handed to Beastly Brown each year. Wouldn’t it be lovely if this revenue were used to improve our energy efficiency, however I would hazard a guess that the dosh is being used to beef up the rear suspension on Prescott’s Jags, or to fund a day or two of warfare. My only doubt about dear Ronnie is that I sense that he may be carrying a flame for the number one daughter, and although a most admirable chap, he is neither titled nor monied. Even a decent job would be a start. Yours Aye, Archie, The Baron Trollaigh.