gominokouhai | On stones

Somebody has left a pamphlet in the office about the evils of caffeine. I'm very glad they did. It reminded me that I have a cup of tea brewing. Mmm, tea.

Today's constitutional crisis, threatening to rock the very foundations of the Scottish establishment^[0], is that Our Eck reckons that the Stone of Scone is a fake. I'm not sure what constitutes fake when we're talking about rocks. Is it secretly made of plastic? Is it just rock veneer on a cardboard facsimile? Is it somehow less rocklike that we've been led to believe?

I've always thought it was a pretty stupid national symbol in any case. Down south, they have the Crown Jewels in all their resplendent finery. Up here we have a chunk of rock, and we're proud of it.

Mind you, Edward I the Scots-Hammer went to the trouble, in 1296, to raise an army and come all the way up here in order to steal the same said chunk of rock. Who's looking foolish now?

And theories persist that instead of the historic throne of Scottish kings, he was given a toilet seat instead. Who's looking foolish now? I've often wondered how that would have worked. Let's imagine it together, in Braveheart-style glorious Technicolor™-o-vision:

EXT. SCONE ABBEY. DAY

Long, luscious PAN ACROSS the massed ranks of the ENGLISH ARMY, assembled threateningly outside the abbey. Standards flutter. Archers limber and flex. Mighty warhorses paw the ground impatiently. EDWARD (who is played by Patrick McGoohan, because it's mandatory) sits imperiously and oversees.

INT. ABBEY CLOISTERS. DAY

MONKS huddle and mutter worriedly.

EXT. SCONE ABBEY. DAY

After a beat, a lone HERALD, resplendent in heraldic colours, rides out front and centre of the massed ARMY.

HERALD

Behold the magnificence of Edward, son of Henry, by the grace of God King of England, Lord of Ireland, and Duke of Aquitaine. Hero of the Ninth Holy Crusade, Defeater of the Welsh, Hammer of the Scots, and currently pointing a hundred thousand longbow bolts right at you, so you better re'co'nize. In God's name and by right of conquest we demand of you some chunk of rock you've got in there. We're told it's important.

(sotto)

Join the Heraldry Corps, they said. See the world, they said. Deliver threatening ultimatums to heads of State, they said. I must have missed the bit in the brochure about requisitioning masonry from choirboys.

INT. ABBEY CLOISTERS. DAY

HERALD (VO)

...We demand that you hand over to us your rocks, or we shall be forced to set fire to this place, with fire. Um, and flames.

MONK 1

Shit!

MONK 2

Don't say shit. Shitting is a sin.

ABBOT

Hold on, chaps... that gives me an idea.

MIX TO:
INT. ABBEY CLOISTERS. DAY

The ABBOT is leading EDWARD through the hallway.

ABBOT

...The Stone of Destiny is just along here.

EDWARD

Are you sure it's not in here, in this richly-appointed chamber marked Throne Room, next to the National Trust information plaque that reads Here lies the Stone of Destiny, ancient seat of Scottish Kings?

ABBOT

Um, no. That one's a plastic replica.

EDWARD

Plastic hasn't been invented yet.

ABBOT

Did I say plastic? I meant cardboard. Um, and paste. See, you get flour and water and mix it together. Have we invented that yet?

EDWARD

I believe you, for surely a man of God would not bear false witness to a King.

ABBOT

We haven't invented the National Trust yet either. That didn't seem to bother you.

EDWARD

Don't get metatextual with me, sunshine. They don't call me Hammer of the Scots for no reason. I've had a long day pillaging, and I'm tired and cranky. Now render unto Us thy rock, lest We wreak a mighty vengeance upon thee.

ABBOT

Okay. The real Stone of Destiny is just down there. In the privy. Next to the big pile of building materials.

FADE OUT

From the article, Professor Ted Cowan says: How credible is it that you can just make a replica of something like that in five minutes because Edward I of England is coming to steal the real one? Actually, it's really very credible indeed. It's a rock. You can find them just lying around.

The Professor, we're told, is one of Scotland's most senior historians. And yet he doesn't seem to know the scarcity value of rocks. I think Edinburgh isn't what it used to be.

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[0] Pun not intended, I swear.