One is delighted to confirm that one shall indeed be on the 'panel' of the popular 'Current Affairs Show' Question Time this coming Thursday in Glasgow. One relishes the chance to meet ordinary 'highlanders' and discuss the issues closest to their hearts. Although it is impossible to predict exactly what will be asked on the night, one is already 'brushing up' on the historical inaccuracies of 'Braveheart', the porticos of St Mungo's Cathedral and the glaring paradox of the West Lothian Question. Geographers among you may have noted that Glasgow is some distance from Somerset, but my interest in Scotland and its affairs goes back some years. Indeed my old chum Bertie has a delightful 'holiday castle' near to Gleneagles where one has spent many an enjoyable Hootenanny and done many a spot of outstanding grouse shooting.
Many of you will have noticed that Question Time is but the latest in a plethora of 'TV' appearances by yours truly over the last few months. It has also been noted that my vote to allow 'twittering' in the chamber seemed to go rather against the grain of what was expected of one. In my defence, Moggs have long been drawn to the bright lights of 'show-business'. Although one does remember with sadness a great uncle who died of exasperation during a recital of Ivor Novello 'b sides' at Wigmore Hall.
Ave Discipuli. You are all no doubt familiar with the delightful film 'Battleship Potemkin' made in 1925 by the Soviet director Sergei Eisenstein. The film tells the story of a bunch of work-shy sailors and their land lubbing chums, who try to upset the rule of the superb Tsar and his hard working government, by lazing about on some steps in Odessa while the rest of Russia tries to get on with the job of putting their country back on its feet. Happily all ends well when the whole stinking shower are evicted from said steps by a group of loyal soldiers and their shiny steel bayonets. While one is in no position to instruct the Lord Mayor's office on how best to proceed with the chaps currently encamped outside St Paul's, they could do worse than 'check out' the example set by Russian Imperial guards in 1905.
One was lucky enough to help some local volunteers clear a 'storm drain' in Midsomer earlier this year. The opportunity to 'rubber up' is one I rarely miss and I was delighted to be able to break in a new pair of Hunters. Unfortunately a long standing luncheon appointment with an old chum in London did rather creep up on us. Still, it was a great opportunity to meet some hard working volunteers one of whom bestowed upon me the great honour of addressing me with the popular moniker 'Mate'.
Lunch is upon us and I must away. I am afraid that is all we have time for this month. I trust you are all well and bid each and every one of you a hearty 'adieu'.