Focus on faith, flutes . . . oh, and football

Channel Four's controversial documentary, Football, Faith, and Flutes

can't be all bad.

Of course, it is an old and well-established fact that sectarianism

plays no part in Old Firm rivalry. Those chants conveying all best

wishes to the Pope and the Queen are just a bit of fun.

As for those featured ''in a drunken state'' in the Wark Clements

production due for transmission on Saturday, they are clearly, as Mr

McCann has pointed out, no part of the mainstream. Another old and

well-established fact of Scottish football is that no fan ever touches a

drop.

Strictly as a service to readers, however, your Diarist thought it

best to sneak a look at the film in hopes of discovering what all the

fuss was about. Can it be true that Mr McCann's ''social institution

promoting health, well-being and social integration'' has been

caricatured, like its counterpart at Ibrox? Well, one gentlemen in a

striking blue ensemble bearing the motto ''McEwan's'' (believed to be a

reference to a popular vitamin supplement) does offer the philosophical

insight, ''I'd prefer to have 11 great players that were Protestants

playing for the blue jersey. It's tradition.''

Another, stylish in green and white leisurewear, avers that both clubs

are faith-specific businesses, adding (and perhaps provoking Mr McCann

somewhat): ''I don't think Fergus McCann or whoever was in charge would

sign a lot of Protestants.''

There follows some shaky theology (''Hing um! He is Satan! The Pope is

Satan as far as ah'm concerned!'') interspersed with scenes in what

appear to be gentlemen's clubs, where there is much singing of songs to

do with being off to Dublin and the correct wearing of sashes, and where

no-one at all is in any way intoxicated.

Experienced observers of the football scene will, it goes without

saying, recognise none of this -- hence the refusal of Rangers and

Celtic even to believe it exists.

PS: All this publicity came as a complete surprise to Channel Four's

press office, of course. This must be why they placed a strict embargo

on coverage that expired, purely coincidentally, just exactly at the

time Mr McCann was due to explode.

The real Scotland

JILL CRAWSHAW can say what she likes -- we at the Diary know that the

Scottish tourist industry continues to flourish and grow, with new and

tasteful ideas shooting down the pipeline even as we write.

Take Highland Mysteryworld, described by the Scottish Tourist Board as

''a new development for 1996 which claims to break the mould of typical

visitor attractions''. Just which mould they have in mind isn't entirely

clear, since this development on the shores of Loch Leven is billed as

featuring delights such as ''the Astromyth Theatre'', hosted by no less

than the Brahan Seer himself.

Then there's the ''Roots of Rannoch, a sensory exploration of the

ancient forest''; the ''Clootie Well, the magical, mossy home of the Wee

Folk''; the Viking Foodship; and (but of course) the Mysteryworld Mall

taking ''care of your souvenir shopping list''.

It is not for us to pre-judge this latest contribution to Scottish

culture. We note only that Highland Mysteryworld is sub-titled ''A

Journey Beyond Belief''.

Occasional

mouthpiece

TERRIFIC news from Keir Hardie House, where the Scottish Labour Party

has at last found itself a press officer acceptable to London in this

new age of Christian family values, Union flags, Trident, and funny

substances never knowingly inhaled.

The lucky lad is one Angus Macleod, a recruit believed to have at

least one link with newspapers, though not, perhaps, of the appropriate

party. Mr Macleod is down to work on Mondays, Tuesdays, and Fridays.

So who's praying the General Election isn't held on a Thursday, then?

Labour link?

(Do not quote this story. This article is subject to legal action. RBJ 13/11/95)

TALKING of Labour -- and we talk of little else -- mutterings from the

other parties come our way over alleged connections between the People's

Party and the BBC in Scotland.

Who, we are asked rhetorically, is giving secret media training to

Labour people? Is Tim Luckhurst, ''Editor News Programmes'', the same

Tim Luckhurst who was once a researcher for Donald Dewar? Is Angus

Peetz, appointed by Luckhurst to run Reporting Scotland's Edinburgh

operation, not the very man who worked for George Foulkes MP? And by the

way, was the position now occupied by Mr Peetz ever advertised?

Below base line

TASTEFUL, tasteful, tasteful. Yes, we're talking about the music

industry, where good taste is ever the arbiter, or so we deduce from an

advertisement for Migration, a new album by one Nitin Sawhney.

''Have you ever been attacked by an Asian?'' inquires the droll

headline. Then, in altogether smaller type, ''(musically that is . .

.)''.

This was almost as witty and clever, we felt, as the spread for B&W

loudspeakers featuring a large picture of Elvis Presley, who is believed

to be dead.

''Eighteen years after being laid to rest in a box, he's brought back

to life in two,'' it says. Unlike the copy, no?

A century down

the road

LITTLE known fact of the week: next year is the motor car's 100th

birthday, or so the industry would have you believe as it prepares to

celebrate a century of environmental devastation, horrific road

accidents, and revolting string-backed gloves.

The Buick company of Flint, Michigan, is first on the case, offering

special models in a largely pathetic attempt to tie the centenary

celebrations to the 100th anniversary of the modern Olympic Games. But

in a breathless press release exploring this dubious proposition, the

firm also delves into its roots.

Not a lot of people know this, as the saying has it, but the

automotive giant was in fact founded by a man from Arbroath, one David

Dunbar Buick, in 1903. In the finest traditions of Scottish

entrepreneurship, however, he ceded the company to William C ''Billy''

Durant in the space of a year, thus paving the way for General Motors.

There's a plaque in Arbroath, apparently, recording the boy's

flirtation with fame. On reflection, though, it's probably as well he

didn't hang on longer. After all, what might the world have made of the

Buick Smokie?

* FINALLY, just remember: if you're out when Jehovah's Witnesses call,

it isn't the end of the world.

IAN BELL