HAIL CAESAR!

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An interesting debate took place in the Holyrood Panda House yesterday.

Princess Nicola raised a motion that a Free Scotland considers replacing the British monarchy after we win the Battle of Bannockburn II in 2014.

She has suggested that once the present Queen shuffles off her mortal coil then her biscuit baking son might not be the best future monarch for our liberated nation.

“Glorious Bravebelly” she cried from among he rows of pasty faces in the chamber, " liberator of Caledonia, leader of the oppressed, surely you are the obvious candidate to be our King of Free Scotland.”

My head was spinning.  All those childish dreams of William Wallace and Robert the Bruce that have been with me since I was a boy flashed through my mind. Things are different now of course. I’ve matured.  I’ve been to London several times and I’ve even stayed overnight on a couple of occasions so I have a much broader outlook than your average Little Scotlander. My romantic image of Scotland has flourished, my self absorbtion in the face of a more collective sense of social British union has hardened into a steely political will. It is, indeed, all about me.

Princess Nicola, with a tear in her eye, continued “ Hear, glorious Bravebelly, we have even thought of a name. King Alexander IV. “

“Very well" I soothed "if you insist, carry on”.

“Yes, it comes from a long tradition of great leaders. Firstly there are obvious associations with Alexander the Great who led his Macedonians to world domination.” She coaxed.

I liked that bit. Good opening.

“Then there was Alexander I of Scotland. He massacred every rival tribal leader in Scotland and united his country for the first time. His descendent Alexander II even marched a Scottish army to terrorise the south east of England – just as you did this week with your mesmerising Hugo Young Lecture.

Oh yes, I thought. It’s all stacking up now. This is destiny indeed.

“What about Alexander III?” I enquired, eager to have more honey poured into my ear.

“Not so good, I’m afraid” she replied

Ah.

“Alexander III fell off a cliff near Kirkcaldy on his way to see his mistress. I’m assured that although it was very late at night no alcohol whatsoever was involved.”

No matter. There’s always one hothead that goes and spoils things for the rest. I’ll ignore him.

Anyway, parliament has set a date for the middle of March to decide the matter so we shall see.

Dear Joan has warned me that the weather forecast is particularly bleak for that week in March and has urged my to stay away from the Panda House for the final debate. Instead, she wants me to stay in Cave Freedom with my well thumbed copies of Blind Harry’s Wallace and Das Kapital.

I don’t know about that though.

King Alexander IV. I really quite like it.