Tootling their pipes and banging their wee drums.

Scotland. Ah Bonny Scotland. With it's haggis throwing competitions, it's incomprehensible dialects, it's warm and welcoming people. Idyllic. That's the word for it. Idyllic. We all toddle around, working in tweed factories, looking forward to the weekend when we can gather in the local tavern to sing songs about people called Aggie and compare kilts.

Actually, it's not like that. It's just another branch of the British isles, really. Like everywhere, tradition and custom don't have much impact on daily life, and were you to walk around Glasgow, Dundee or Edinburgh with ear muffs on to hide the accents, it would be indistinguishable from London, Manchester, Dublin or Cardiff. Just a lot of people from all walks of life, getting on with it.

But up here in Scotland, there's a plague. A dark undercurrent that spreads it's tendrils throughout the land into the brains of those people, from the very affluent to the lowest jakey scum. A disease so malevolent that while it's spoken of on telly and radio almost daily, it has to be hidden from in general life and only spoken of in the quietest of tones.

Sectarianism.

What is sectarianism, you may ask. Well, you could always google it, but it won't give you any concrete idea of what it means in Scottish society, because it doesn't really make much sense. Is it about religion? Is it about nationality? Is it about football? Well, if you were to cock an ear towards and pub on an "old firm" day, you'd come away with the idea that it's a mish-mash of all these things. Half understood ideologies, a smattering of historical inaccuracy, lifelong football allegiance and a good deal of racism thrown into the pot for good measure. Ancient, outmoded rivalries that have no bearing on today's world, which are clung on to and revered as though they are somehow important. And if you don't think the same way as the majority do in whatever backwater you happen to find yourself growing up in, you better keep quiet about it.

Where I live, it's the "protestant" (or "proddissent") side of the coin that's prevalent, rather than the "catholic" (or "kafflick") side, but regardless of what "side" of the "argument" (whatever it is) you come down on, the diatribe seems to be the same. Us good, them bad. The differences between the two sides are completely intangible, stemming from ancient arguments brought about by Jacobite rebellions and famines that happened hundreds of years ago and have absolutely no bearing at all on any part of life at all. And, if I'm going to be completely honest with you dear, imaginary reader, I'm absolutely sick to the stomach of it.

You see, I might have mentioned this before, if there's one thing in the world I cannot stand, it's stupidity. I don't mean the "unable to do sums" kind, I mean the jeering, belligerent kind, the kind that imposes itself on other people. Like a teenager throwing popcorn at a cinema screen, that kind of stupidity. And sectarianism smacks of stupidity in it's highest form..... taking a lot of half understood ideas and inconsequential arguments, mixed with a religious belief that is neither understood or followed to any extent, and mixing them all up into a method for banding into a group and hating other people, who in this case tend to be supporters of a different football team. People like to factionise themselves, it comes from when we were cavemen. But so did shitting down our own legs and clonking women on the head with clubs, and those things have fallen, largely, by the wayside.

The problem is, though, that the very nature of sectarianism means that it isn't open to any sort of debate. It's largely based on intolerance, but will not stand for any intolerance of itself. In other words, it relies on freedom of speech and rights given to it by a democratic society to allow it to intimidate and oppress people in an entirely undemocratic way, but as soon as their right to do so is questioned, they cry "no fair" (and generally batter whoever questioned them). Yes. The behaviour of indignant children. Or "cunts" as they are known in the adult world.

I was brought up in one of the most sectarian regions of Scotland. I grew up in the same school as the locals, I supported the same football team, I followed the orange walks around and whistled the tunes. But it was at around the age of ten that I started to question what was going on..... who were these "fenians" and why did we hate them so much? It didn't take much thought from a ten year old's brain to pull the whole thing to pieces. I stopped watching football, as it was tainted with the stupidity. And I couldn't for the life of me, understand why others couldn't see how wrong they all were.

It was around then that I discovered that my family, on my mother's side, had a catholic background. My dad told me (at the same time making me swear not to tell anyone else, such is the fear of being different in this place) that my mum had come from a catholic family. Once, before I was born, an orange walk comprised of locals, "friends" of my dad, had stopped outside our door and stared in the window in an attempt to intimidate my mum. All 5 feet of her. These boozed up, half-brained thugs were attempting to make a 5 foot, respectable young woman feel unsafe in her own home. If any one of my friends ever read this, I hope you will understand how hard it is for me to keep quiet when you bang on about the fenians with the knowledge of that incident in my mind. I keep quiet because I respect your right to your own opinions where I know you would not respect mine.

As a side not on that incident, here are some facts which make those ignorant scumbags seem even more pathetic. My mother was better than every one of those uneducated cunts outside our house and anyone who follows the same ideals, simply because what mattered to her was not some stupid notion of religious belief, but what people were like. She never harmed a fly and was decent to anyone who was decent to her. What's more, my mother was not a "catholic". My mum never believed in God or an afterlife, let alone followed the doctrines of any religious organisation. And she would absolutely batter me for using the "c" word, because she was able to bring a child up well and with a decent, open mind. And just in case, for the tiny remnant of animosity that could be aimed at her for coming over here in the potato famine and stealing decent rangers supporters jobs, my Papa came from Newfoundland to fight for this country during the war. He was wounded fighting in france to defend this country from a REAL threat, the nazis, not going over on his ankle while blowing into a flute to scare away an imaginary one like the big, bad pope is made out to be, and afterwards settled here to become a well respected member of the community.

So there you are. I'm half catholic. Except I'm not. Only round these parts could anyone be described as being half a religion. A religious belief is just that..... a belief. It's something you choose for yourself, not something you are born into. Were I to choose to become muslim, jewish, hindu or worship the flying spaghetti monster, it would be my choice, but around these parts in the dimly lit corners of the mush people use for brains, I will forever be half catholic, tainted with that gene that makes people support celtic.

So I'm not a catholic. Neither am I a protestant. But then, neither are most of the people who subscribe to these daft beliefs. Every weekend they shout and sing but never once set foot in a church. They stand proud in defence of beliefs they neither understand nor follow. And every so often, some poor kid gets stabbed on their way home by one of these imbeciles simply because they wear the uniform of the opposing side..... a rangers or celtic top.

So I'll sit with my mouth closed and never let on what I really think. Half because some of you people are my friends, and despite what I think to be a horrible lack of sense on your part I regard you as good people despite it all and don't wish to offend you like you offend me. But also out of fear, because I know what happens when someone is "different" around these parts, even if that difference is only an ability to question the norm. But would you do me a favour? Next time you shout "fuck the pope!" or "up the ra!", just think about why you're saying it. Is it because that's really what you think? Or is it because you want everyone else to think that it is?