By all accounts, Paul Green is a traditional, long-standing, property-developing, racehorse-owning, tax-averse, non-resident, dyed-in-the-wool Scottish Labour supporter. Thanks to him, the people's flag - mauve when last sighted - is flying high. Though not, sadly, on Jersey.

We owe Mr Green a debt, nevertheless (but not in the way you think). Because of him, we can ask profound questions.

Questions such as: couldn't Wendy Alexander find anyone actually living in Scotland who was keen to funnel a whole £950 to her non-campaign for her non-election to the Labour leadership?

Questions such as: can't Scotland, land of Buttons, Peanuts, and Small Change, ever manage a proper scandal? Down south, careers are at stake over a not-inconsiderable £650,000 in donations. Here we do taxi chits, wee offices, and this: the equivalent of beer money and a couple of season tickets.

Sorry, my mistake. We also do opposition transport spokespersons, Charlie Gordon in this instance, falling under the political bus after mooching cash from Mr Green in a manner known technically as non-legal. They'll be calling it a personal tragedy next.

Still, it's all very, very serious. The judgment of Ms Alexander, patron saint of suffering spin doctors, has been called into question. Quite right, too.

Call me old-fashioned, but shouldn't she know the difference between First Minister's Questions and a 150-word personal statement that had nothing whatever to do with the topic at hand?

Bizarre wasn't the word for it. No, on second thoughts, bizarre was exactly the word. To visitors in the gallery from Ukraine and Gabon, it must have seemed as though the Labour leader was saying: "Hang on. I'll get around to domestic abuse after I've dealt with the crucial issue of my latest embarrassment."

To be fair, Alex Salmond started it. Labour's difficulty is his opportunity, and all that. The Presiding Officer can meanwhile explain why he let Ms Alexander plough on ("Question" is the usual blunt reminder to the wandering orator). The impression remained that domestic brutality was not the most pressing topic of the day.

Mr Salmond poked his rivals with a stick by contrasting the alleged optimism "still sweeping the nation" and the "mood of despondency" afflicting Labour in London. Ms Alexander ignored that and described an increase in violence in the home.

The First Minister tried again, congratulating his opponent "on her success in dominating the news agenda in Scotland". Labour's benches seethed, a neat trick when your gas is at a peep. Strangely, Ms Alexander grinned.

"I will return to the issue of domestic violence in a moment," she warned. In fact, many moments passed while she said - which is to say read - her piece.

The quick version: the SNP didn't file returns to the Electoral Commission when they held leadership elections, so they can lay off.

Strange logic. Either Ms Alexander was saying that her party is only as bad as the other lot, or she was inviting us to conclude that if Labour had done nothing wrong, neither had the SNP.

The trouble was, as Labour's tactical geniuses may have noticed, the Nationalists had no donations to declare. And Labour had done wrong.

It fell to Annabel Goldie to rescue the situation with a serious point. Checks are made into the criminal histories, if any, of those seeking to work with children and the vulnerable, she noted, but only if applicants are from the UK. Applicants from overseas face little or no scrutiny.

Ms Goldie found this deeply troubling. Ms Goldie was right. Mr Salmond promised to look into the matter. Sanity was restored, briefly. All together: How much is that Labour Party in the window?