Well, what the hell was that about? A week ago, last Monday, we were all going about our lives, getting up for work, going to Lidl for our mince, and binge-watching Baby Reindeer when suddenly, crash, bang, whoosh…there goes the First Minister.

The past 10 days has been like an episode from The Thick of It that was never screened because it was considered too far-fetched. For Holyrood bubble, navel gazing, rectum auto-accessing, self-serving arrogance, it will take come beating.

For anyone not interested in politics - and that is most of the population - they must have thought: “Sorry, what? Interim climate change target? What interim climate change target? Who in the Green Party? Oh yeah, that wee guy who looks like a fey Himmler. Puberty blockers for children, sounds nuts, but… what, Alex Salmond is back? I thought he had exploded under the internal pressure of his own ego…wait, the fat referee is calling for a vote of what? I wouldn’t be confident about letting him go to the bathroom on his own…. Ash Regan? Isn’t that a disease that kills trees? Sorry, what? Useless has resigned? Why…bapart from the obvious?”

When something like this happens, TV news crews suddenly rock up on Buchanan Street and Princes Street to ask voters what they think, and there’s always one who says he or she can’t comment because they are “not interested in politics”.

I have done vox pops over the years and, believe me, that is most people. You need to stop at least 10 before finding one who knows what the hell’s going on, or who wants to know.

To most people, democracy means making the effort to go to the local primary school to put a cross on a piece of paper, that means nothing and changes nothing, until they have to do........

© Herald Scotland