Excerpt from Bella Caledonia.
‘Tae popular acclamation!’ Noo there’s a thocht tae quicken the hert. A roarin croud isnae jist for Hampden when we’re takkin oot a guddle o P.E. teachers an pairt-time posties; but the second tae last place ye’d expect yin (coontin the Mitchell Library an New Douglas Park on a Setturday) is shuirly an SNP conference meetin whaur a motion cawin for a Scots Language Board is due tae be proposed. An yet, this verra efternuin, sic a motion wis carried bi vyces alane – a fittin omen for a debate aboot whit fowk are an arenae alloued tae be heard fae in oor modern Scotland.
Coorse, there are aye fowk oot there fawin ower theirsels tae tell ye that there’s naethin new unner the sun, an that SNP conferences hae been passin Scots language motions an then forgettin aw aboot them syne Day Dot… Which is aw true, ye ken, but the age o Trump an Johnson seems like an unco time tae be makkin Public Service Annooncements on the perfidy o politicians. These are strynge times, an it needsna tak the Oracle o Delphi tae mind us o the muckle gap atween whit oor leaders promise an whit’ll they deliver.
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