It's a sad farewell then to Sir Terence of Eurovision. That Mr Norton is funny and Irish, but will he come up with as many off-the-cuff gems? Who can forget such comments as "that's the same song the French have been singing since they hung the washing up on the Maginot Line". In 2001, he referred to the two Danish hosts as "Doctor Death and the Tooth Fairy". No-one is quite sure if Sir Tel was subsequently banned from the country, but it would be nice to think he could return to Copenhagen without the risk of some terrible pastry revenge.

Baron is on the Naughtie list Always great to see Baron Foulkes of Cumnock in full flyte (sic), and there he was in Diznaeland the other day, having changed out of his Westminster ermine in Edinburgh's last telephone box and assumed the identity of bruiser-in-residence for the Scottish Labour Party.

I have always admired Baron George for his unerring ability to wind up all and sundry on the Saltire side of things, leaving trails of fulminating cybernats in his ample wake. And his Wodehousian encounter with the forces of law and order back in 1993 - policemen's helmets were allegedly knocked off, Bertie - has always seemed both endearing and conducted in the national interest of Greater Caledonia. In case you've forgotten, - he was a proper MP then - he was fined £1050 after pleading guilty to a charge of assault and being drunk and disorderly. He spent a night in the clink. This after a London reception hosted by the Scotch Whisky Association.

Anyway, that's all behind the Baron of Cumnock. As I recall, the convener of Western Isles Council, Donald "Easy" Macleod, saying during the BCCI crisis, when his conviction for stealing a double-decker bus unexpectedly emerged - "every saint has a past, every sinner has a future". Only in Gaelic.

Clearly, the baron's affection for things Londonian remains undimmed. In a Diznaeland debate on mediums - sorry, the media - he launched an attack on the broadcasting organisation which I so proudly serve, BBC Radio Scotland, comparing our fine and upstanding morning news show, Good Morning Scotland, unfavourably with its competitor on Radio Four, the Today programme, or Good Morning Notting Hill. The Baron praised the "erudite and mellifluous" presenters of the latter, in particular James Naughtie, who was, he said, educated at Keith Academy.

Those who have lately heard Opera Jum's sonorous declamations from the American presidential election ("and lo, dawning across the awakening plains of democracy is the daylight of a deep and thrilling dynamism here strides into history a new, and very colossal collegiate colossus. Her name is Britney.") may recognise the Keith cadences, but I wish to defend my news colleagues against any accusations of aural jaggedness. Bill Whiteford, for example, is widely admired as a veritable linty. Abeer Macintyre's winning combination of Ulster and Fife soothes troubled ears across the nation. Erudite? I know for a fact that Bill possesses several Tom Waits albums and a copy of the High School Musical DVD. And, of course, the recent compilation album Now That's What I Call Erudition, Vol. 23 (the Alex James years).

Naked rambling sounds much better Still at the Beeb, the shocking scandal of actor and reality TV judge John Barrowman's Radio 1 exposure has concerned many of us. Does this mean we will no longer be permitted to broadcast naked? Even in the height of summer?

In case you missed it, or don't read the Daily Mail, former Scot Barrowman appeared on the show presented by Annie Mac and Nick Grimshaw, where he was asked by Grimshaw if, as was reputedly his habit during interviews, he was going to "get his willy out".

"All right, I'll get it out for you then, no problem," replied the Torchwood star. A producer hastily covered the studio webcam, so nothing was actually seen by the public, although Annie Mac was seemingly quite overcome by the sight which greeted her. "Oh my God," she exclaimed.

The Daily Moralist went to town, as you'd expect. "Filth! Evil! BBC! Willies! Even If You Can't See Them, They Are Very Very Nasty And A Waste Of Public Money!" ran the headline, probably.

But nobody could. That's the thing about (non-webcam-afflicted) wireless. It is a little-known fact that some of the BBC's top stars are committed nudists, and the new BBC Scotland HQ at Pacific Quay in Glasgow has a blacked-out studio where presenters can, if they wish, strip before broadcasting. Several claim that this process of "de-layering" makes them much more sensitive to the conversational cues of guests in remote studios. A few top consultants say that nudity affects the voice, too, rendering it more "mellifluous" and the presenter "increasingly erudite". So far, all attempts to encourage the staff at Good Morning Scotland to experiment with this approach have failed.

Minister gets calling to the bar Where to go for one's watchnight service? Well, if I was in Perth on Christmas Eve (which I won't be: I will be on the Zetlandic Archipelago, playing Santa in the new visitor attraction Very Nearly Lapland, Only Boggier), I'd head to the St Matthew's gig.

Which is not in the kirk itself, but in a bar called - appropriately, in these straitened times - The Capital Asset. Minister Scott Burton (no relation to the brewing company) is taking the advent celebration into the nearby pub, where it will be possible to celebrate Christ's birth with hymn singing and pints of - oh yes, it is on draught - Abbot Ale.

According to pub manager Yvonne Cuthbert, "this is about encouraging traditional values and community spirit".

It is uncertain whether the consumption of that monastery-made substance, Buckfast tonic wine, will be encouraged. Personally, I have always found that the bellowing of a selection from Moody And Sankey's Sacred Songs And Sea Shanties, accompanied by a couple of bottles of Orkney Skullsplitter, works a treat. Until you get arrested.

Let Knut loose in the glens The news that Knut, Berlin Zoo's polar bear, is to be banished from the city has caused much Germanic wailing. It seems that the Zoo cannot afford to keep two-year-old Knut, who was born there and is seeking a new home for the cuddly monster.

As beavers are released into the Highlands, and the likelihood of wolves wandering the forest paths of Ross and Cromarty grows ever stronger, surely a place could be found in Scotland for Knut? Wouldn't it make Munro-bagging a tad more exciting if there were the ever-present fear of mutilation? I fear that, with the advent of naked Munro bagging (and if you don't believe me, have a look at www.nakedmunrobagging.com) hillwalkers are having trouble getting their rocks, if you will, off. The frisson engendered by Knut's presence on, say, Ben Lomond, could prove very attractive to some of the more adventurous types.

A warning for trendy politicians News that David Cameron presented Barack Obama with a selection of favourite music (The Smiths - not, presumably, The Queen is Dead - Gorillaz, Radiohead) and was subsequently pronounced "a lightweight" by the Fugees-loving impending president should be a warning to other politicians. They could reveal too much about themselves. If George Bush had ever evinced a liking for Slayer, Slipknot, left, and Metallica, his opponents would have had a field day. But they wouldn't have been surprised. And while occasional snippets of information about Gordon Brown's "official" iPod contents reach the public, what if it emerged, as I suspect, that he was listening to nothing but The James Last Orchestra, Mantovani and Richard Clayderman? I think everyone would relieved. The Cameron playlist is too self-consciously cool. The Boy With The Thorn In His Side, indeed. You can just see him in his Eton study, poshly nodding along with Morrissey. The Mozzer (50 soon) must be very proud.

Alan Taylor is away