Angry, I think my house is haunted. I have recently witnessed objects flying across a room, doors slamming by themselves, lampshades being turned upside down and even our family chihuahua levitating above a hedge! We have contacted the police, but they don’t seem to have any procedures in place to deal with hauntings. Even our local priest seems powerless! What should we do? – Anonymous, Rutherglen

Communication is key. Having read your question several times, I have concluded that the most important thing to do here is to establish whether or not this ghost supports an independent Scotland. You see, the spirit might not be annoyed with you or your family, but instead the current political landscape of its homeland. After all, it cannot be coincidental that these supernatural happenings have only begun in the wake of Brexit, can it? I mean, it’s not unusual for me to slam doors and throw objects across the room at the very thought of Theresa May as Prime Minister. Why would this be different for a ghost?

Simply reassuring the spook that Scottish independence is coming could be enough to curb some of its more irksome activities. However, if these attempts at communication fail, then I am sorry to report that this could indeed be a poltergeist, or as they’re known in Scotland – “ghost neds”. These ghosts are rarely dangerous, however they frequently prove to be lurid, annoying and fixated with antisocial behaviour. Actions such as levitating a chihuahua or turning lampshades upside-down would tally with known ghost ned activities – there’s no logical reason for it, they simply want to bam you up.

Sadly, most conventional phantom removal methods will have little effect on ghost neds. Summoning priests won’t work as they will simply see this as an opportunity to make Father Ted jokes or spray anti-Catholic graffiti on your windows. Similarly, the cops will either be ignored or mocked. Ghost neds have been known to play Dance Of The Cuckoos on instruments in the home during police visits. However, this is not to say that you cannot appease these deviant spirits by leaving bottles of Buckfast in the attic or playing Tiesto songs loudly before going to bed.

Generally, the best way to handle these hauntings is to not let the ghost neds get a rise out of you. Once they realise that you’re not engaging with their bad behaviour, they will usually move on elsewhere.

Why on earth have Tesco replaced the Saltire with the Union Jack on the packaging of Scottish strawberries? - Andy, Stirling

At first glance, this would seem to be an open-and-shut case of bigotry towards Scottish strawberries. The fact that English customers have taken the time to file complaints about the “wrong” flags being on their zesty mealtime snack is as racist as it is exasperating. You will note that no one appears to have asked for the flag of St George to appear on English strawberries. Instead, they have opted for the much less appealing Union flag, an emblem that only signifies regressive politics and neo-colonialism. Exactly what is to be gained by placing such a symbol on strawberry packaging is not immediately clear, but it should be remembered that the Government have also tried the same cheap trick with UK driving licences. Call me crazy, but I think it’s pretty foolish that British cultural hegemony has extended to the fruit aisle in supermarkets. Indeed, one could only imagine the mass media hysterics if roles had been reversed and the Union Jack had been vanquished in favour of the vastly superior St Andrew’s Cross.

However, upon further investigation, I have found that these incidents are but the tip of the iceberg when it comes to nationalism’s ugly role in consumer culture. You see, unlike most people involved in this debacle, I recently took the time to hold several meetings with a number of real-life strawberries. After much debate, the little fellas explained to me that they do not wish to be identified by nation, but to be universally regarded as libertarian. Strawberries, you see, do not recognise flags or governments, as these are constructs of the human condition and in no way represent the beliefs or lifestyle choices of aggregated accessory fruit. Strawberries have no say in where they’re grown or where they’re sold. Therefore, I have concluded that the real issue here is Tesco’s ignorance of strawberry rights and cultural values.

As members of the Yes movement, we need to keep our cause in perspective and remember that real Scottish nationalism isn’t about flags, bigotry or fruit fascism. It’s about open-mindedness, equality and doing what’s right for both humanity and nature alike. As the old saying goes, you cannot eat scenery and you cannot eat a flag. The Saltire shouldn’t lower itself to getting caught up in arguments that boil down to bitterness, corporate greed and a blatant disregard for strawberry welfare. We are a better, sweeter nation than that.