Greetings, people of the Free World

I have had many inquiries since the last issue of the 'Starry Plough' as to my identity and how I come to be here in 'Norn Iron' (Ulster Scots for..... Doh?).

I am not from Ballymurphy or Ardoyne as many of you thought, I am in fact a displaced Russian (Soviet Union in the good old days. Oops!) journalist. I was sent here a few years ago by my illustrious employer 'Pravda' on an assignment to expose western decadence.

Unfortunately, whilst I was away from home my beloved motherland has undergone what can only described as a retrograde revolution. As one of Lenin's family of 'Red Sons' this has left me disoriented, if not a little confused. I understand that my new leader is somebody called Boris. Apparently he slurs on and on about democracy, but my mother said that he took power by stealing a tank and pretending to be an ordinary citizen.

'Pravda' in its wisdom decided to keep me here, though my assignment has now changed to reporting the wonders of democracy and peace in your country.

At first my progress was slow. I am able to speak English and my employers thought that would be enough in the communications department and translators are so expensive these days. What I had not realised was that the English language is no use here as you citizens only speak two languages - Gaelic and Olstur Skats. Now, my long lost second cousin Seamy Woodpecker from the Short Strand was able to help me with the Gaelic, though he drew the line at going up to Stormont as he's in the "Continuity", whatever that is.

But I had a hell of a time trying to find an interpretor for the Olstur Skats and kept on running into brick walls. At the end of the day I found a wee woman called Maggie (that's Maggie in Olstur Skats not Maggie in Ulster English), who could translate Olster Skats into Ulster English and we are doing grand, only £200 per week too. Nobody's goin' to take old Vlad for a ride.

'Norn Iron' democracy is very complicated and hard to understand - every time I think I have got the hang of it they change the rules. Take the referendum for example - the British and Irish governments put a document, that apparently had the agreement of both Unionists and nationalists, to the people of Ireland. They claimed this document would bring an end to the past 30 years of conflict. The population voted overwhelmingly to support the Agreement that would bring peace. Now I find that the document should have been called "The Good Friday Disagreement" - apparently democracy means that you tell a great big nice lie and then when people vote for the lie, you then tell them that's not exactly what they had voted for but it's what the two governments would have liked to have happened.

Unfortunately, somebody called Dribble, no Tribble, no Trouble, sorry Trimble wouldn't play ball and said he hadn't agreed to anything and had proof - he said he never spoke to the Fenian B**stard's let alone agreed with them.

As you can see I am a little confused by the wonder of democracy - the people say one thing, then the Brits and Free Staters totally ignore them. It's a bit like our old system Ha! Ha!