After the marathon political catch- up last week we have more of a meander through various topics this episode.
We reflect on Mhairi Black's announcement that she, along with currently six other SNP MPs, won't be standing for re-election,the toxicity and the allure of Westminster and its bubble.
Much is being made of tensions,even splits,in the SNP but all is not well in the Labour Party. It looks like left leaning candidates are not being selected and there's disquiet over shifts in policy over public ownership, green policies, and an acceptance of Tory fiscal policy. Despite the acceptance by Anas Sarwar of UK Labour's " No" will there be a Holyrood rebellion supporting the Scottish Government's decriminalisation of drug possession and use proposals?
Lesley reflects on her Scottish "Thrive" tour and her soggy Highland bike holiday.
Pat,meanwhile,manages to shoehorn Scottish independence into his house move.
Both wax lyrical on the great Saint Andrew and the Woollen Mill. Follow the links below to vanish into the world o Dundee rap.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CWOFK7M0QBMhttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0c4l_T3KRNo&t=1shttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T14t0Be4moULesley completes the cultural exchange with an introduction to Gaelic poet Duncan Ban Macintyre and his epic nature poem In Praise of Ben Dorain
"Honour over every ben
has Ben Dorain;
of all I have seen beneath the sun,
I adore her:
long, unbroken moor,
storehouse of deer.
Upland that is clearly
worth talking of
coppices of boughs,
woodland where grass grows,
elegant are those
whose abode it is.
The hind with the taper-
head sniffing so keenly,
with sensitive sharp nostril
exploring the wind:
short-tailed and long-shanked
on mountainous summit
she stays in her fastness
lest gun-fire deceive her;
although when she hurries
she utters no wheezes.
The hind’s in the forest
as she ought to be,
where she grazes on sweet grass,
clean, fine-bladed,
heath-rush and deer-grass,
herbs full of substance
to put fat and tallow
upon her loins.
The hind is in this little glen,
and no unskilled fool
could stalk her if he did not know of
making contact with her quietly;
guarding against her warily,
drawing near before she stirs,
cautiously, most toilsomely,
lest she should sense him.
Honour over every ben
has Ben Dorain;
of all I have seen beneath the sun,
I adore her:
long, unbroken moor,
storehouse of deer.
Upland that is clearly
worth talking of
coppices of boughs,
woodland where grass grows,
elegant are those
whose abode it is."
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