Of Ploughman Poets & Champit Tatties & Bashit Neeps!!

Hey Gogglers of the Glowin' Screen, yi might no' ken it, sittin' aw oan yir lonesome there doing yir Tinternet Business, whatever that may entail, but it's January 25th and aw ower this Sceptred Isle and indeed, all quarters of the Globe, people who cherish the Poetic Stylings of Robert Burns, late of Alloway, Ayrshire, will be enjoying a warm, reeking and rich meal of  Haggis accompanied with some Champit Tatties N Bashit Neeps! Even as I write, a Handsome Pudding, just today purchased from the premises of  Mr. Abercrombie in Broughton Street, Edinburgh, awaits it's heating in the oven of the S t o n e d   H o l y   K i t c h e n !   The S t o n e d H o l y B l o g g e r  is One who shall, most assuredly, be raising his glass to the Ploughman Poet and Toasting his Immortal Memory!

The S t o n e d H o l y S c h o o n e r , however, will not be lifted in 

Salutation of the Canonised Burns of Biscuit Tins and Postcards,

 the Appropriated Burns of Tartan-Clad Parochialism, 

the Sanitised Burns of Conservative Club Suppers, 

nor the Emascualted Burns of the Highly Mannered and Codified Pantomime of Piping in the Haggis. I've got more than an inkling that Robert Burns Esq' would be spinning furiously in the grave which holds him at the thought of aw the shite enacted in his name!!

No, here at S t o n e d H o l y H Q  we will be raising our glasses aloft and Bringing To Mind another Robert Burns entirely :

  Burns the Radical, who, referencing the Religious Dissenters of the English Civil War, styled himself 'Robbie the Ranter'! 

Burns the Libertarian, who defended the American & French Revolutions!

  Burns the Democrat, who knew 'The Rank Is But The Guinea's Stamp'!   

Burns the Libertine, the self-confessed & Proudly Proclaimed Fornicator! 

Burns the Indignant, who blasted the hypocrisy of the Church and aw the Unco Guid! 

The Political Burns, who poured scorn upon the Parcel of Rogues who had signed Scottish Independence away! 

The Bawdy Burns, the Crochallan Fencible, who knew 9 inch would please a lady! 

The Convivial Burns, at home in the Inn and the Howff where the Swats were Reaming!!....

....and How, How, How could we ever forget the Burns who, one cold starry night during the Winter of 1786, upon attending a dinner party in the parlour of Mr. Adam Ferguson's 'Sciennes Hill House' in Edinburgh and encountering a fifteen year old lad by the name of Walter Scott, thereafter spent  the evening entertaining the Great n the Good of Scotia's Darling Seat with his intelligence and charming the Darling Young Things with his flirtatious wit, before begging his esteemed host's pardon for needing to 'Mak His Water' and quietly nipped upstairs & Tupped the Scullery Maid!!!

So without further faffin' aboot and without further bletherin', I ask you not to be upstanding nor raise a formal toast, but rather, just to take a moment to think on Robert Burns & Old Long Since! 

A Mover & A Shaker - Undoubtedly! 

A Rantin', Rovin' Billy - Unquestionably! 

A S t o n e d   H o l y   R o l l e r  - Most Ceratinly!..........

Doubt ye not that our Well-Thumbed copy of his Collected Verse takes its place Most Rightfully & is displayed Most Proudly on the Seldom Dusted Shelves of The S t o n e d H o l y L i b r a r y ! (It sits next to a facsimile edition of 'The Merry Muses Of Caledonia'!)

Let the final words be Walter Scott's : 

"Long Life To Thy Fame & Peace To Thy Soul, Rob Burns! When I Want To Express A Sentiment Which I Feel Strongly, I Find The Phrase In Shakespeare or Thee."  

Well yi cannae argue wi' that, can yi?!

SO REMEMBER TO TAK THAT RIGHT 

GUID-WILLIE WAUGHT! CHEERS!