Well, here we are, just five days away from the local elections. So far, not a candidate has crossed my threshold, though I’ve had election material from the SNP, Lib Dems and Labour. Sadly, it has not exactly filled me with excitement at the prospect of casting my vote.

There are no big ideas in this election. All the parties are falling over themselves to tell me that they’ll fix the potholes, protect services and listen to local voices. All of which is important: I don’t like falling into giant crevices in the road anymore than you do. But I’d love to see some really innovative ideas for Glasgow. What about creating a locally owned public transport system, so we could join up the trains, underground and buses and have a network comparable to those in European cities? What about converting the many disused train lines into cycle paths, so we don’t always have to cycle in a glass-filled gutter? (NB: this is not actually my idea, I pinched it from Dave). Why don’t we turn the hideous George Square into a permanent farmers’ market, where local producers can sell their wares? In fact, we could turn it into a water park, a beach or an ice rink, anything would be an improvement on its current sorry state.

My point is, I’m tired. I’m tired of hearing the same tedious exchange of policies revolving round and round at every election. I’m tired of seeing the same buzzwords – equality, fairness, protection, social inclusion – being printed in campaign literature without any real actions to back them up. I’m tired of the same faces popping up and hearing the same words coming out of them.

Where are the Big Ideas? Where are the truly transformational policies? I’d be the first to admit that the ideas I’ve suggested above might not work. I’d love to have a proper debate about them and find out how to improve them, or hear alternatives. I’d love to hear anything, in fact, other than yet another attempt to shift pennies between budgets in order to very slightly tweak a pre-existing policy.

Are we living in a post-Big Idea society? Have we all lost our nerve? Are we too scared of looking silly to suggest any truly radical ideas? I hope not. I was raised to believe in voting. I’ll wander down to the polling station to cast my vote on Thursday. But I have very little hope that it will lead to anything other than some different bums on the City Chambers chairs.

BOGGIN’

ACT [1] SCENE [3]

Our heroine Nancy Kipper has convinced the Scottish Knobbly Knee party to back her leadership after ousting Alan Haddock. But now the media wants answers…

NANCY STANDS IN A CORRIDOR, WAITING. SHE IS OUTWARDLY CALM, BUT HER JIGGLING RIGHT LEG BETRAYS HER NERVES. BESIDE HER, HUSBAND AND SCOTTISH KNOBBLY KNEE PARTY BUSINESS MANAGER PHILIP MODEL IS CHECKING HIS PHONE.

“OK” he says. “The press have all arrived. It’s time to go”.

NANCY CHEWS HER LIP.

“What if I can’t do it, Philip? What if I make a mess of this?”

PHILIP PATS HER SHOULDER REASSURINGLY.

“Then I’ll have to orchestrate a coup to overthrow you”.

HE GRINS.

“But you’ll be fine. Remember, you’re doing it for the right reasons. There was no way you could allow Alan to continue, given what you knew about him”.

NANCY NODS. SHE STEPS FORWARD AND OPENS A DOOR. BEFORE HER IS THE SCOTTISH MEDIA, ARRANGED IN ROWS LIKE AN UNRULY CLASS OF SCHOOL PUPILS. AS SHE ENTERS, THEIR FLASHBULBS POP AND THEIR VOICES CLAMOUR FOR HER ATTENTION.

SHE WALKS QUIETLY TO THE PODIUM AND POINTS AT A JOURNALIST FROM THE HAROLD. HE STANDS UP.

“Nancy, this is the biggest political drama we’ve seen in Scotland since Derek McCludgie accidentally drove a taxi the wrong way down Princes Street. What’s behind Alan Haddock’s sudden resignation?”

NANCY GAZES DIRECTLY AT HIM.

“We all have to move on at some point, and what better time than now? Alan’s delivered a Yes vote for Scotland. He’s achieved his life’s goal, we all owe him an enormous debt, and he’s earned a quiet retirement. Next!”

THE SCOTTISH CORRESPONDENT OF THE DAILY QUAIL GETS TO HIS FEET.

“Nancy, there are rumours. Scurrilous rumours suggesting that scullduggery and intrigue lie behind your ousting of Alan Haddock. Would you care to comment on the most recent story, suggesting that this conspiracy was masterminded by the same villains who murdered Princess Diana?”

NANCY SIGHS.

“I’ve got a country to run, folks, so if that’s the best you can do…”

SHE BEGINS TO TURN AWAY, BUT A WEAK VOICE STOPS HER.

“I have a question, Ms Kipper!”

THERE IS A RIPPLE OF DISBELIEF. THE SUNDAY TOAST’S POLITICAL CORRESPONDENT, JEEMY BOAB SOUTER, WHO HAS NOT ASKED A QUESTION SINCE 1973, IS STIRRING. DUST CASCADES FROM HIS HAT AS HE ROUSES HIMSELF.

“Ms Kipper, I have come into possession of some photographs”. HIS VOICE CREAKS BUT DOES NOT BREAK.

“Photographs which, I believe, reveal the truth behind Alan Haddock’s resignation. Photographs which, if verified, would mean Mr Haddock’s credibility would suffer an irreparable blow”.

NANCY IS WHITE. SHE TRIES TO REGAIN CONTROL.

“Well, I’ll be happy to meet you later and discuss anything you’d like to disclose…”

BUT IT IS TOO LATE. SOUTER IS MAKING HIS WAY PAINFULLY TOWARDS HER. THE BROWN ENVELOPE IN HIS HANDS IS HORRIBLY FAMILIAR. HIS PEERS PART TO LET HIM THROUGH.

HE ARRIVES AT THE PODIUM, AND SPREADS THE PHOTOS BEFORE NANCY AND THE ASSEMBLED JOURNALISTS.

“The reason Alan Haddock stood down, ladies and gentlemen, was these photographs, which show the leader of the Scottish Knobbly Knee Party, Scottish patriot extraordinaire, caught in the act of – Morris dancing!”

NANCY COVERS HER EYES. THE FLASHBULBS EXPLODE. IN THE PICTURE IN FRONT OF HER, ALAN HADDOCK GRINS AND WAVES A SPOTTED HANDKERCHIEF.

IS THIS THE END FOR THE SCOTTISH KNOBBLY KNEE PARTY? YOU MIGHT FIND OUT, IF BOGGIN’ GETS COMMISSIONED FOR A SECOND SERIES!

If that made no sense whatsoever, you probably haven’t watched this.

BOGGIN’
ACT [1] SCENE [2]

Our heroine Nancy Kipper has wielded the knife in the back of former Scottish Knobbly Knee party leader Alan Haddock. Now she must unite the party behind her…

THE FACES BEFORE NANCY ARE MALE, SHOCKED AND SILENT. SHE STANDS AT THE FRONT OF A ROOM OVERLOOKING EDINBURGH’S ROYAL MILE. THE ONLY SOUND IS THE TRAFFIC CRAWLING PAST OUTSIDE.

“That’s the situation, gents. Alan’s chosen to stand down, and he’s absolutely clear that I should replace him”.

MALCOLM RUSKELL, A TALL, BEARDED BON VIVEUR, FINDS HIS VOICE.

“But this is preposterous! It’s outrageous that this – this overnight coup should take place! It’s an affront to democracy! If Alan is determined to leave – and frankly I’d like to hear that news from him personally – then we must proceed immediately to an internal election”.

HE STRIDES TOWARDS A WINDOW AND FLINGS IT OPEN DRAMATICALLY

“Not only party protocol, but the people of this great nation, our Enlightenment ancestors and indeed Plato himself would demand nothing less!”

NANCY TAPS HER FOOT, ENCASED IN A RED HIGH HEEL

“Great. The day after our party wins the victory it has sought since its inception, we get distracted by a party squabble. What we need is decisive leadership. And that’s what I’m going to provide”.

PARTY YOUNGSTER HANZALA YUMYUM IS FLUTTERING HIS IMPOSSIBLY LONG EYELASHES AT HER.ENTHUSIASTICALLY HE BLURTS,

“Well, look Nancy, Alan was my boss and I’m very shocked that he’s gone but don’t you think it’s time we had some new blood in charge, I’d be a really good leader and I’ve got a motorbike so I can get to loads of meetings really quickly and I’ve been on Question Time and everything!”

NANCY SMILES.

“I have no doubt you’ll be the boss of this party before long, Hanzala, but let’s start you off with at least one Ministerial position before we give you the top job, eh?”

HANZALA GRINS, TAKES OUT HIS NOTEBOOK AND STARTS JOTTING DOWN POTENTIAL CAMPAIGN HASHTAGS. HE TRIES “ #HANZALAFORHEALTHSECRETARY” AND “#MYHEARTBELONGSTOHANZALA” BEFORE UNDERSCORING “#ITHASTOBEHANZALA”.

NANCY TURNS TO JAMES WHINNEY, WHO HAS NOT YET SPOKEN. HE SITS WITH HIS FINGERS STEEPLED BEFORE HIM, GAZING STRAIGHT AHEAD. FOR THE FIRST TIME, NANCY SEEMS UNCERTAIN.

“James? What do you say?”

HE TAKES A PENCIL FROM BEHIND HIS EAR AND BEGINS TO SCRIBBLE SUMS. AFTER SEVERAL MINUTES, HE LIFTS HIS HEAD.

“I’ve calculated the odds. Based on a forecast of heightened electoral expectancy, combined with the ability to wrongfoot the opposition through offering a previously unexplored package, then unless they’ve predicted the LeaderSwap move, your leadership is the best option, Nancy. For the moment”.

EVERYONE NODS WISELY. NANCY SMILES.

“Right then, gentlemen. It’s time to form a Government”.

WHAT WILL BE NANCY’S FIRST MOVE AS LEADER? HOW WILL THE MEDIA REACT TO THIS DRAMA? AND WHAT IF JAMES HAS GOT HIS SUMS WRONG? STAY TUNED!

If that made no sense whatsoever, you probably haven’t watched this