Deliberately and plainly wrong

It’s perhaps time we went back in our box. Yes, indeed, it seems we should just accept that we are crap at everything. We simply could not organise a coffee morning in a cake shop. We don’t deserve to be like any other country in the rest of the world, we don’t want to be.

Three years after the greatest mass engagement over the question of the country’s future that ever occurred in Scotland there are still a number of us who don’t seem to know that the NHS in Scotland is a separate entity from the he NHS in the rest of the UK, or don’t know that the Scottish government has only limited powers to make changes to aspects of public spending that might or might not improve the quality of their lives.

There are many, not Tories, not Labourites of the various hues that exist, not left, not centrist, nor right, just Scots, ordinary Scots, like us, whose opinion of Scotland taking its governance into its own hands still starts and stops at the phrase ‘Scotland is not strong enough to survive on its own.’

We should maybe just carry on as we always have for the last 300 years. We love moaning about all that is wrong about being ruled by a larger neighbouring country. In fact we’re just fond of moaning. It is our thing, but we really don’t want to do anything about the things that we are moaning about. We don’t feel that we have the ability, knowledge or confidence to do anything other than complain.

It’s much easier to continue to sit back, and read what our public school educated landowning, city of London investing leaders want us to read, so that we think what they want us to think, and have the opinions they want us to hold. After all, these denizens of power sound like they know best, they obviously are successful, because they have wealth and influence, therefore they must be right.

We, the majority not born into privilege of some kind, fit the role of cap doffing, sometimes living waged early-deathers much better than we ever would as chance takers. Heaven forbid we should ever expose ourselves to risks, other than the ones that send more of our families to foodbanks, drives our children into drug and alcohol addiction and leaves our pensioners dodging the hypothermia-bringing grim reaper, frightened of a hefty electricity bill. These are the risks we are quite happy to accept.

No, settle back down, watch soothing, loving, condescending, cosseting, reassuring British hypnotic TV. Poor people and immigrants are demons that are coming to steal your third hand BMW, and why not buy a specially minted coin to commemorate the Battle of Trafalgar, each with a genuine particle of gun metal engraved into the union flag design (coins legal tender in Jersey), or wallow in a sycophantic orgy of fascination with ludicrous privilege by bloodline, obscene vastly wealthy idols from another era, but hey, they do loads for charity and bring in the tourists you know. Here, Your Highness, have another £380 million, you richly warrant it.

We really don’t deserve control of our own destiny. What would we do with it?

Life is much easier simply accepting that hearing TV newscasters repeatedly referring to something successful happening in Scotland, something major being achieved, something that positively impacts the lives of Scotland’s people ‘despite the Scottish government’ is correct, even when it is blindingly obvious, if you just motivated yourself out of your slumber long enough to listen with your ears and look with your eyes, that it is deliberately and plainly wrong.


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