Yesterday - carried away on a tide of nationalist pride - I declared: "The devolved nationalist government is talking about banning trousers and obliging Scots-born men to wear kilts."
Apparently I was wrong. A source close to Holyrood - a friend of my father's - contacted him to set the record straight. I'm afraid to say that I cannot quote his statement verbatim because, regrettably, it was framed in language so intemperate that I cannot bring myself to type it. I may be a straight man, but I am keenly aware that many ladies read my blog. Suffice it to say, his statement to my father amounted to a strong denial.
I have cancelled my order for more presentable underpants with the Edinburgh Woolen Mill. Not only are these items no longer required for formal occasions (which I assumed would become more frequent once the yoke of the English hegemony was removed and as a nation we were allowed to breath once more) but it seems the EWM company has been infected by Angloists. Their 'trouser' department is a disgrace to their nation.
I must also take issue with another unkind thought my father's friend expressed. I know you will be shocked to learn that he questioned my mental stability. I know this will make you angry. I would be angry but I am used to this sort of abuse - as are many of my comrades in arms. Questioning the sanity of political dissidents is an age-old tactic used by repressive regimes. I will not be cowed. I am strong. Do not fear for me.
So, dear reader, I must apologise for giving you false hope that The Tartan would once again flap about our noble knees with pride. I should have checked my sources before putting fingers to keyboard. But hope - even when it is false - is a precious thing. Hope is what sustains us, what nurtures us and urges us forward to victory. Keep hope - all types of hope - alive!
In solidarity and friendship
(The sole author of this blog)