A statement was made recently in the House of Commons which throws a dazzling spotlight over why it is imperative that sometime soon the people of Scotland make a conscious decision to take a firm step away, leaving the remains of the British state to their own devices.
It happened a couple of weeks ago now, during a debate on the NHS in the rest of the UK, which the Tories have ballsed up so badly that thousands of junior doctors, many driven to the point of physical and mental exhaustion, have had to resort to strike action to protest against worsening conditions of employment, much against their natural instincts as healers.
I’d say we all pretty much understand that the circus that is Prime Ministers Question Time and what now sadly passes for articulate oration during debates in the House of Commons, where a chamber full of guffawing performing seals vie with each other to see who can make the loudest farting sounds,is very much there just for show.
Decisions are not made in that room (or it’s lobbies) in an outdated building, which is not fit for purpose, as described recently by one of its newer members, one who can actually speak well and with genuine compassion, and who is a determined advocate for progressive change, as like being in a “foosty museum”.
The Prime Minister of Great Britain David Cameron, member of the aristocracy, fifth cousin of the Queen (once removed), eighth cousin of former Oxford Bullingdon Club housemate, and his opponent in the European Referendum debate, Boris Johnson, (naw honestly the voters are no’ being manipulated by these two. Would you like tae buy a timeshare?) and with a lineage which makes the Duke of Argyll seem like Harold Steptoe, was heard uttering gleefully, as has been heavily reported since, to Jeremy Corbyn the only socialist for miles, in response to comments regarding his mother’s opinion, that ” I think she’d look across the dispatch box and she’d say: put on a proper suit, do up your tie and sing the national anthem.”
Oh how very witty! But with that one unscripted slip of the political tongue, a personal insult that Dave’s inborn sense of superiority and privilege just wouldn’t let him pass up on, he let the thin veil of pretence slip that he, or the well entrenched two party, one protected system of government within which he and his cronies operate in the current United Kingdom, has any real commitment to genuine democracy or that they are interested in anyone else other than their own little exclusive club of the extremely wealthy. It is as it has always been, as they see it the peasants are there to be exploited and those in power are there to do the exploiting.
Granted, having watched several examples of First Minister’s Questions from Holyrood there is a tendency there too for some extremely childish language. I had to stop watching it as every time Kezia Dugdale stands up to make her opening attack on the leader of the Baad-Baad party and sorrowfully starts sniffing I imagine the theme tune music starting up from the old Radio 1 mid-morning Simon Bates slot “Our Tune” and reach for a tissue tae dab my eyes. My God, she is woeful as well as waffle.
She is able tae take a good skelping though as the First Minister rises to her feet on a monotonously regular basis with a look of resigned acceptance to verbally play with her for a bit like a cat with a half chewed mouse before putting her back into her box.
To give Ms Dugdale and her colleagues from other parties represented in the Scottish Parliament their due, even the tank driving Tories, I cannot envisage any possible situation where during a debate they would resort to personally insulting each other about the clothes they wear or how they wear them. How could you possibly slag someone off about the fact they aren’t wearing a Savile Row suit when just up the road there are families with small children queuing waiting for a Food-Bank to open?
The reference to Jeremy Corbyn not “singing the national anthem” is more worrying. As someone looking in on the UK it is clear to me that over at least the last twenty years, probably longer, bearing in mind the first Gulf War was in 1990, there is a definite rise in militarism in the culture of the British state. The reduction in all of the jingoism which came with the decline of the empire has gone and it is back with a vengeance.
I have nothing but admiration for any serviceman or woman who puts their life on the line for their country, they deserve 100% support, but the political donkeys putting our young people in danger, as well as reaping havoc around the world, often to protect wealth rather than anything else, are contemptible.
It used to be that we had Remembrance Sunday only, a time of contemplation, when my auld Faither, God rest him, a regular in the Argylls for many years, would get the medals and the brasso out and march past the local war memorial to proudly honour those who fell in the World Wars. Now you can hardly pass a month without the Red Arrows painting contrails of union flags over Buckingham Palace or commandos abseiling down the side of football stadiums.
This “patriotism” is helping to fuel an increase in the popularity of British Nationalism, often targeting refugees and immigrants for particular hateful attention. That lovely peace-loving cheery bunch who came out from under a rock, casting flowers in their wake, smiling, singing and dancing on 19th September 2014 in George Square were a fine example of the culture the British state is happy to encourage, a feeling of superiority, a hatred and suspicion of immigrants, a sense of selfishness. There are always going to be half-witted misfits on the edges of society but this type of behaviour over a longer period has a habit of leaking slowly into the mainstream, becoming more acceptable over time.
That is not a future for a country I suspect many Scots want any part of. It’s time to go. Leave them to it.