If you read enough Darwin and Dawkins and have a working knowledge of the fine work done by Gregor Mendel on the “Principles of Inheritance’, you will already have your own ideas on the subject spinning around the vacuum this week.
You will also be somewhat alarmed, though not altogether surprised, at the inevitability of it all.
Were it true.
I started from a basic concept, took what I assumed to be ‘facts’, then delved a little further.
The primary purpose of every single living thing on this planet is to ensure that as much of its genetic material survives, adapts, and is passed down to future generations as is possible.
At the expense of everything else.
In the natural world this may take as brutal a form as killing the offspring of others, but here in Tele-Tubby land things are a little more subtle.
A little bit more ‘complicated’.
You might think that the most successful men on the planet are the captains of industry, the top politicians, scientists, or even Stornoway taxi drivers; but you’d be wrong.
Having untold millions in the bank, several houses scattered about the planet and global respect are worth not a jot if you have the average family of 2.2 children.
Hang on, I’ll count my houses again.
The true measure of success, despite what you might think, is the number of offspring you manage to produce.
You’re probably thinking that I’m about to say next that stupid people have more children.
Donald Trump (5), Nigel Farage (4), Piers Morgan (4), Katie Hopkins (3).
Yes, here I go again.
But the work done by Jonathan Beauchamp, a “genoeconomist” at Harvard, finds only ‘slight evolutionary selection for lower education’.
Despite what would appear to be overwhelming (my own particular whelm was completely buried, I have to admit) evidence to the contrary; the world has not become a more stupid place.
Well, not by that much.
Frankly I was stunned: if not, I’ll admit, a little bit disappointed; that my own prejudiced interpretation of how everything latterly has turned sour was based on the type of grape I’d chosen to tread.
Brexiteers, Tories and Republicans.
Mail readers, Soap watchers and Soap dodgers.
Haters, baiters and dodgy foreign waiters.
Apparently it wasn’t them.
Or the accountants and lawyers.
So explain to me why Alex Lester and Janice Long’s night-time shows get cancelled by Radio 2 because ‘changes need to be made to ensure that our programming spend reaches the most listeners’.
Chris Evans is retained on £600,000, and whatever they pay Vanessa Feltz is simply too much.
If this wasn’t sanctioned by a cretin with a fondness for Laurel & Hardy, then I’m a Niseach.
I don’t have another theory yet, but I’m working on one.
After a hiatus of several weeks whilst we got the Christmas shopping squared away on the first Saturday, then the carry-out the next (first things first, you understand?); last Monday’s individual skirmishes for the Hangover Trophy were merely a precursor to a welcome return to CarHire Hebrides Winter League animosity, I mean action.
The mucking around could stop.
The fantastic purses on offer, when the not yet sober congregate, were consigned to the dustbin of wishful thinking.
This was a battle for a whole £1, individually; and for maybe a tenner collectively.
The first week in January, proper, and the realisation that dates, and days, on a calendar do not signify earth-shattering change, quickly slaps everyone straight back to reality.
This is the time of year when golf, as we know it, combined with weather, as we’re used to it, can at best be lauded as ‘grim’.
All the new golf balls and jumpers in the world aren’t worth a thing when your hands are freezing, the rain is dripping down the back of your neck and your toes are cursing the guarantee from ‘Footjoy’.
Ok so Murdo and I didn’t get any points, despite having as much fun as anyone can have whilst prizing coins from the clammy fingers of Martyn and ‘Tex’; but that, friends, is neither here nor there.
This is the time of year when all the grinding out of a score goes relatively unnoticed.
The time of year when ‘happy’ feels a bit too positive and just slightly redundant.
The time of year when loins are girded and stock taken.
Bogeying the last three holes to go from joint second place on the day, to nowhere at all, might have been enough to take the gloss of winning a whole pound, swiftly hoovered by Kevin ‘Lava’ MacLeod for his ‘Donald Trump’ style raffle.
“You won’t win anyway”, I’m reassured by a gleeful Kevin every Saturday at around 5pm.
That’s three years now, and counting, Kev.
It would be easy to dwell on all these positives.
Then I remember what I promised last week; slap myself on the backside, take her gingerness to Uig for a Sunday afternoon stroll on Ardroil beach and ‘hey presto’, I’m ‘back in the room’.
I put up a pair of shelves, listen to Professor Brian Cox try to explain to me how big the universe really is, watch some QI XL, listen to Andrea Bocelli entertain Claudio Ranieri, and smile at the absurdity of what makes Alan Bennett a genius.
Remember, despite everything, it really is ‘o.k.’
Smiling very broadly last Saturday tea-time were the father and son pairing of Donnie and ‘D.J.’ MacLeod who doubled their points tally for the season with an outright win.
The joint winners from 2015/16 haven’t featured since the opening day, back in October, when they began their defence of the title with similar efficiency.
No dropped shots and birdies at their 9th and 10th holes, the ‘Heather’ and ‘Gunsite’, rounded off a very accomplished display indeed.
Against a par of 44, their 42(38) was the best of the day and earned them 15 points and puts them within sight of the leaders.
Joint runners-up, for 11 points apiece, were the teams of Bryan Geddes and Ali Gillies, 43(39) and ‘Griddy’ MacLeod & Kevin MacRae 41(39).
Bryan and Ali found themselves one over after ten holes, courtesy of nine pars and a dropped shot at their 6th hole, the very tricky, par-3, Foresters.
A 2-3, birdie-birdie, finish at the ‘Short’ and ‘Long Cabar’ swiftly catapulted them back into the limelight.
They just need to get out more, as a pairing, to impress further.
Similarly ‘Griddy’ and Kevin.
Two of the most accomplished players in the club, fatherhood and firefightinghood have restricted their outings thus far.
They too started solidly, level par after seven holes courtesy of an immaculate card.
A birdie blitz at 8, 9 & 10 (‘Glen’, ‘Heather’ and ‘Gunsite’), courtesy of a hat-trick of 3s, nudged them into the serious scoring points.
Joint 4th spot was also shared, 8 points apiece the reward for Al ‘Greens’ MacLeod & Allan MacLeod, 42(40), and David Campbell & Calum ‘Tom’ Moody, 47(40).
The ‘Als’ had yet another solid round, throwing two birdies ( ‘Castle’ & ‘Millar’) at their opening three holes to calm any nerves. A dropped shot at the start of their back six, on the straightforward, par-three,’ Ard Choille’ was quickly redeemed at the notorious ‘Heather’.
But for a very costly double-bogey at the very same ‘Ard Choille’, David and Calum would have surely further troubled the top scores. If they can find a similar level of consistency over the coming weeks they should easily trouble the leaders.
Who’s going to win the league?
David & Michael Black (+2)..............................44 Points
Willie MacAulay & Donald MacSween (4)........36 Pts
3)= Iain MacLeod & N.L.MacDonald (5).................32 Pts
Andrew Reeves & Iain Morrison (5)..................32 Pts
5)= Donnie & D.J. MacLeod (2)..............................30 Pts
Iain Moir & Pete Middleton (2)..........................30 Pts
Down at the Scarista links, there was a huge upset when Simon Hunt didn’t manage to win their Saturday medal. Whereas at Stornoway where the format is pairs, contesting a league over six months; the Hearachs like to mix things up a bit.
The format varies from match-play to stableford to medal competition.
And Simon Hunt wins.
It would now appear that the only serious competition, with Hugh MacLean once again absent without a care, and Willie ‘The Bold’ Fulton concentrating on his landscaping (by means of distraction), is coming from within the Hunt household itself.
Father David is now emerging as his main challenger, a fine, level par 52, relegating the young fellah to runner-up spot last weekend.
Sweet revenge for a fortnight ago when Simon took the plaudits.
Luckily they have no intention of pairing up and taking their talents north.