Like all of you, I am just completely gutted. What makes the Scots so different to the English?

Why do the basic principles of social justice resonate so much more there than they do here — in the south?

It’s not as though people here are vastly wealthier — it’s just a completely different attitude.

As far as I’m concerned, the sooner the Scots have full independence the better.

I understand the arguments against, comrades, I really do. But that’s how I feel.

But we pick ourselves up, shake ourselves down, and life goes on. I’m just back from the James Connolly Festival in Dublin, where I took part in an interesting debate on the future of trade unionism and did a storming gig with a wonderful Irish poet called Maximum Homosapien and a great ska band, Interskalactic.

The day after the Bank Holiday weekend was not ideal for such an event, which is probably why the turnout was not as good as expected

But it was great to meet some long-time fans and the Dublin anti-fascist crew and a good time was had by all.

High spot of the visit for both my wife Robina and I was a moving trip to Kilmainham Jail, where Connolly was executed along with the other leaders of the 1916 rising and where so many Irish men, women and children suffered at the hands of the occupiers over many years.

And we were warmly welcomed at Connolly Books by comrades from the Communist Party of Ireland, who organised the event.

Thanks to Eoghan and crew for inviting us over.

Before that I was in Leeds performing at a pre-election trade union event, dashed back to Brighton for my annual May Day show as part of the Brighton Festival fringe, then back up to Middlesbrough for Brighton’s final game of the season and my regular gig at their lovely, friendly local theatre.

A full-on schedule.

But the big one happened last Monday, when I had my first overnight hospital stay for 45 years to have my dodgy bladder operated on by our wonderful NHS.

As always, I’ve written a poem, and here it is.

The NHS must survive and we will fight for it.

The 37 per cent of voters who are rich, heartless or just plain thick as two short planks will not be allowed to destroy it.

CANDID CAMERA
(An Ode to Flexible Cystoscopy)

I know I sometimes can be
A loud-mouthed, stroppy prat
I know I’m a control freak
(And a bossy one at that)
My wife says when I’m eating
I am a total slob —
I’m still not sure that I deserved
A camera up my knob.

The poor thing shrivelled up in fear
Till it was hardly there
A tiny little pimple
In a nest of pubic hair
The camera made its entrance
The pain cut like a knife
And then I saw my bladder
For the first time in my life.

I’m glad that it went up there
Though sad at what it found
And it can come back anytime
To help me stay around
So three cheers for the NHS
And to that camera crew —
AND IF YOU’RE FEELING ODD DOWN THERE
YOU GET IT CHECKED OUT TOO.