The tipping point


I want to recount a wee personal story that happened to me this week.

There is a member of my very close circle of family and friends, someone I love the bones of, who I entirely respect, who has always had differing political opinions to myself.

So much so that in the run up to 2014 and its aftermath we debated back and forth on all things independence, sometimes with a fury. Each of us arguing the case, me for self-government and change versus him for unionism and the status quo, to an almost standstill.

There were at times, we would both admit, things said that shouldn’t have been, and we caused each other hurt. So much so that for at least the last two years it’s been a subject that we both consciously avoid discussing with each other lest it opens old wounds. We’re both fine with that. We have been friends for many years. We agree to disagree.

About a week ago whilst perusing social media I was astonished to see not one, but two, posts on Facebook from this very same friend which I never thought I would see. One being a Yes Scotland meme, presumably from 2014, extolling the virtues of self-determination in regards to social justice and equality in Scotland, and the other was that magnificent AUOB ‘Scotland will you march with us’ classic photo taken at this year’s Glasgow event.

Daft as this may seem tears started to roll down my cheeks as I looked up his profile page to double check I hadn’t gotten it wrong, I hadn’t.

After I’d wiped the snotters out of the way I pondered why it was that I had reacted in this way, being as sober as a very sober sober person from the planet sober at the time, and not one prone to greetin ma beads oot at Facebook.

I figure it’s this. There is a change on. It’s incremental, it’s steady, the tectonic plates of sovereignty are shifting, it’s been almost imperceptible but now becoming visible, coming to the surface. There is a tipping point approaching in the journey to independence.

If my friend, with his baseline starting point political views, someone who can clearly communicate, argue, debate and provide examples to persuade others to his viewpoint, can shift over the course of two, two and a half years to where he is now, with us, we are most definitely getting there.

I FaceTimed him a couple of nights ago, ostensibly just for a blether.

As his face came up on the screen in front of me with his usual big daft grin, and knowing how close to my heart my political beliefs are he must have been able to read the look on my face.

We looked at each other for a moment or two before either of us spoke. He nodded his head and winked. We both knew what that meant. I almost started greetin again.

It is coming folks. Get out there next Saturday in Edinburgh for a wee stroll and a meander through a public park that belongs to the people of Scotland. This is the big one.

Let them try and ignore 100,000 examples of joyous peaceful civic nationalism, celebrating their unity and determined to be part of a normal self-governing independent social democratic country.


Shiny happy people


There’s nothing like the conference season to bring out the warm fuzzy happy feelings of love that exist within British political parties, those who man the unionist barricades, for all things democratic in Scotland.

The very mention of the fairly non-antagonistic phrase ‘the right to self-determination’ results in waves of hysterical pitchfork wielding, spitting of fury and torch carrying eejits spouting off like the unfortunate Question Time man from Inverness of 2014 with the thousand yard stare and the pledge to “Keep his Union together with his blood”.

We’re for the off, the concrete wellies it seems. Ian Lavery, Labour Chair at their conference earlier in the week advocated the need to “Kill off the nationalists in Scotland and regain that great country”, presumably because they forgot a few items they left behind the last time they were in charge of asset-stripping the place, and the daily propaganda screeching at us vile separatist nasties is rising to fever pitch as we draw ever so nearer to the day someone presses the UK self-destruct button, and we haven’t even reached  the Tory knife fight in Birmingham yet.

I think we, the many thousands of advocates for the rights of the people of Scotland to determine their own future and make all of the important decisions about their country themselves, should perhaps respond to these clear demonstrations of fraternity, good fellowship and respect for our views. I would suggest we adopt across the board an approach that we are absolutely brilliant at. It’s called warmth and genuine humanity.

So I say with much tongue-in-cheek comradeship, come here you big wooden-faced Tory puppet-gubbed numpty that ye are Ross Thomson. C’mon, gies a wee cuddle and a pinch at yer cheek. Let’s have group hug wae ye. We’re quite nice folk, honest we are. Mone, we’ll buy ye one of they Great British teacakes ye love so much.  In fact we’ll get ye a box of them.  

Come on Dicky Leonard, tell us how good you’ll be at being First Minister, we’ll listen politely and then shower yer path wae rose petals like yer a Roman General.

Come on Theresa, gies a wee dance, a sashay across the floor. Let’s have a party. Do that thing with your arms that you do.

Come on Fluffy, how about a song?  Gies a couple of choruses of ‘Maybe it’s because I’m a Borderer that I love London Town’. We’ll get the great folks of our campaign who originally hail from south of the border, there’s loads of them, lovely folk they are too, fine upstanding Scots by choice who really understand why we do what we do,  to join with you and harmonise at all the right places, and then we’ll all smile, cheer and clap, just to make you feel special, cos we’re like that in the Indy Movement.

You see we are about making folk feel special. We’re about making everybody in our country feel special, making them feel included, and respected.  You might think that you want us gone but we’ll overcome you, make you irrelevant, with kindness, with hope, with humanity for our fellow human beings.

Aye, most definitely we are about making folk feel special and we are also about seeing our country’s future positively. A hard concept for the protectors of London’s power over our nation to accept.

We’re about envisaging a country where the street corners of our cities are not littered with poor sowels starving, filthy and unkempt, sleeping out in all weathers, unwanted, broken and awaiting an early death.

We are about ensuring everyone in our communities has a roof over their head, warm accommodation,and see they Foodbank places? They Foodbanks are on all of our wish lists to get made redundant and shut within the time it takes us to finish up the clearing up after the Independence celebration pairties, once we get there, because you know what, we are determined, and see determination, ambition, honest endeavour and hard work, they go a long long way.

We are for a country where our weans coming up and out of school can honestly be asked the question what is it you want to do with your future, and actually expect that there are five or six different opportunities available to them to pursue an apprenticeship, further education or training to lead them towards that goal, in Scotland, without them having to break their Maw’s heart by eventually putting in their papers for places like Canada or Australia to get on in life.

We foresee a country where we can encourage our children and our grandchildren to follow their dreams, pursue their interests, gain knowledge and expertise in fields where they have aptitude and potential, to get out there and fill their boots, to innovate, to speculate, to drive forward our country into being a successful Northern European independent state.

We are about making sure that our old folk are looked after and supported, and provided with a pension that they deserve, rather than the one they currently get ,which, when compared to most other European Union countries, is one of the worst. The Labour and Tory canvassers knocking on their doors telling them that the big bad independence wolf will steal their pension don’t really tell them that though do they?

My goodness surely there can’t be many folk left in Scotland who honestly believe all of the nonsense about our country being poor, too wee, dependent (on a country that has gutted us over the years when it feels like it, and has almost taken everything it can from us that’s not screwed down) can there? Deep down? Apart from those with the red, white and blue blinkers that is.

The potential for Scotland to be a hugely successful country without the anchor of the Titanic tied around our necks is enormous. It really is.

Let’s do this.


Despicable them


I detest the Labour Party. I really do. I voted for them from when I was first able to vote for many years, and now I hate everything about them and everything the feckers do.

At least with the Tories you know straight up that they are a bunch of crazed right-wing greedy selfish over- privileged nasty bastards who hate the very notion that the people who do the working, the sweating and the worrying themselves sick, the folk who keep these sons of Eton and wives of hedge fund billionaires in their comfy cosseted ‘wealth creator’ lifestyle, should benefit from their toil. They don’t try to hide the fact.

We know that when the Tories describe themselves as the party of the working people that’s their cue for us to laugh uproariously at their wit and sardonic humour.

The Labour Party on the other hand are the biggest bunch of fake, lying, conniving,betraying, twisted, forty-faced, bullshyting wankers around.

They have entirely betrayed the motivating factors, fighting poverty, injustice, the lack of fairness and equality, of their origins. The great social reformer Keir Hardie, a name which half the feckers cannae spell, and the other half don’t recognise as spelt wrong on a conference visual aid, has spun his box right out of the grave and is currently balanced against an oak tree in Cumnock weeping his spiritual heart out at the shambles that they are.

The many Scots who have seen through their champagne socialist trickery and the quick and ready willingness with which they ally themselves to the Tories when it suits their needs are clear in their understanding. The Labour Party left us, we didn’t leave them.

As if their actions in the independence referendum in 2014 weren’t despicable enough, frightening pensioners into believing that their pension, one of the worst in Europe under UK power, was in danger, spouting nonsense to Catholic voters that the SNP were anti Catholic and would do away with Catholic schools, and then Gordy Broon, in one of those singular and always unique first interventions of his, suggesting that Scottish children with cancer and other serious illnesses would not be treated at specialist hospitals in the country of our neighbours if their parents vote Yes, despite Great Ormond Street hospital telling him to take his face for a shite for spreading factually incorrect scare mongering nonsense, they are trying to outdo themselves.

One day we have Jezza Pretendy Jesus, always that keen to sit on any fence that’s presented to him, his mind solely and only ever on how he can convince the voters of middle England to vote for him, telling us he’s no’ keen on Scotland being independent but he’d need tae think about the question if he was Prime Minister and a section 30 order was requested by Holyrood.

Then we have Tricky Dicky Leopard, their branch steward in Scotland, a man who has managed to be humiliated by verbal lug skelpings from the First Minister of Scotland during FMQ’s more often in ten months than James Kelly has had brain cell collisions, announces that the Labour Party will be searing in blood a line into their next manifesto which will once and for all, and unequivocally, reflect their view that the people of Scotland are, and forever shall be, British, whether they like it or not.

Permission will never be granted by a Labour Government for a referendum on independence, no matter the will for it, no matter democracy. We’ve just had one, according to Tricky ( 4 years ago) and Scots who voted No wouldn’t have, or never will, change their minds, apart from if it’s Brexit that is.

Here’s the thing Dicky, the people of Scotland will decide when to have the next referendum about their future, not the British Unionist Labour Party, in government or otherwise.

To cap it all off over the last couple of days, from the party, as mentioned earlier, that falsely accused the SNP of being anti-Catholic, we have Andy Kerr, Chair of Labour’s Executive Committee, burst into good old boy Central Scotland casual sectarian bigotry for all to see. What was he thinking?

If, instead of making fun of Catholics crossing themselves, Kerr had mentioned a Jewish Kippah, or a burka or perhaps a skin colour he’d have been punted out of the hall, but it’s only Catholics eh, so it’s just a wee joke that the lads doon at the ludge will have a chuckle at.

Did I mention that I really loathe the Labour Party.

Scotland must get away from the Westminster two party (I don’t count the Libs, why would you) circus of self-preservation and on with building a great wee independent country.


Batshit crazy


Well, there you have it. After a hurriedly arranged media statement It’s all the EU’s fault that the UK can’t slink away from their responsibilities with a sweetheart cherry picked deal that gives them preferential treatment without the financial costs or free movement of citizens backwards and forth, and essentially a better deal than the actual members of the EU will still have.

They are bastards one and all those blooming foreign politico types, hints Theresa for the benefit of the Daily Hate Mail, the Depress and the Fascist monthly gazette.

According to her (she’s clearly unhinged) the EU are not treating her with respect (the whoopy cushion on her chair in Salzburg was just a wee joke to see if she would hop up and do some of that groovy dancing again, honest).

It’s now time for the EU to come back with their proposals. The ball is back in their court. At this stage in the negotiations rejecting Britain’s kind advances is simply not on, she uttered, going very red in the face.

The EU don’t have to do anything of the sort. The only comments they really have to make I would suggest is to say cheerybye, all the very best, and give the 1920’s our love wont you. They just want Britain to quietly piss off and let everybody else get on with it.

Theresa May and her bunch of public schoolboy wallopers who never grew up don’t get it. The UK doesn’t matter on the world stage anymore. It’s that simple.

When threatened in any shape or form they revert to type. Out comes the warpaint, the Dunkirk spirit,good old Winnie, Trafalgar, Blenheim, Waterloo, tally ho and it’s a snifter in the mess after a sortie over the channel.

The British state playbook never changes, it’s written in several hundred years of history. When it looks like you’ve been humiliated pick a fight and blame somebody foreign for the treachery of not realising that you are exceptional and therefore should be worshipped and treated with extreme deference.

One thing is entirely clear about the new super hard born-again War Maybot. She’s just reached the point where she has really pissed the EU off.

If she has made this statement with the upcoming Tory conference in mind with a view to saving her career by strolling onstage to Land of Hope and Glory, with a superimposed photo of her in a Chieftan tank on the screen behind her a la Iron Lady (spit) to save her from the wild dogs of Eton I think she’s gambling big style.

We are heading for no-deal folks. It’s going to be a bumpy ride but it’s time to launch the independence lifeboats Scotland. It’s an imperative.

#DissolveThe Union

Brexit is most definitely Brexit


Like a punch drunk journeyman boxer, who takes heavy punches to the head for pennies, the crazy dancer of Downing Street staggers in a directionless weave around the three ring circus of Brexit, lurching from one verbal tongue lashing to another.

On a human level I could almost feel sorry for her if it wasn’t for them damned nasty neo-liberal policies that she and her cronies unleash on the vulnerable citizens of the UK on a regular basis and her complete contempt for the right of the people of Scotland to have any sort of control of, or say in, their own futures.

If ever there was a moment in time where within the communities of Scotland previous No voters of 2014, or undecided’s, seriously need to consider the facts about where Scotland is being led, against its democratic will, at a deeper level than Jackie Burd’s propaganda, Andrew’s Neil or Marr with your Sunday fry up, or the Daily Record, it is now.

How much humiliation can Theresa May absorb?  From the very day and hour that it became clear that within a period not too far hence London would not be partaking in any of the future goings on in the largest tariff-free trading club in the world the consistent response from Brussels and the leaders of all the main players remaining as members of the EU has been that any deal which the UK proposes for a future relationship must not in any way compromise the main precepts of the remaining European Union.

They couldn’t have made it any clearer, they couldn’t have made that point any more often apart from if they’d perhaps flown a huge blimp in the shape of Boris Johnson tied to the roof of Big Ben above Westminster with the words ‘ATTENTION BRITAIN, YOU ARE FUCKED’ emblazoned on the side of it.

The London government is still playing the John Foreigner will blink and surrender because we’re British damn you tactic. No they won’t. Chequers or any other cherry picking offered option putting forward a threat to the benefits gained by remaining EU countries of being a member will simply not be accepted by Brussels.

This week Theresa has been kicking around Salzburg at a summit with EU leaders, hoping they’d at least say some nice things about her, what with the Tory party conference, or as it might turn out, using a Game of Thrones analogy, ‘The Blue Wedding’ coming up soon. She’ll need more than a coughing fit to save her this year from the raging right-wing xenophobes.

Treated like a leper with an itch she could have only have been more shunned if Michel Barnier had suggested to her that she might want to take his poodle Marcel out for a comfort break to let the rest of the room talk about her.

Indeed there are actual photos of her looking pensive whilst hanging about outside the conference room, whilst a meeting she was barred from was taking place inside to discuss the remaining EU members strategy to ensure that Britain committing national suicide doesn’t bollox up their economies as well.

This is the leader of the UK government we are talking about here, waiting outside a room to try and ingratiate herself with the leaders of a massive trading bloc who clearly think that the UK government are completely bonkers.

Can Scotland continue to risk it’s future chained by the ankle to this mob of clowns? We’ll sink just as quick as they will, even though we voted against it.

Are we prepared for a late in the game back door deal being made that would see Northern Ireland being allowed access to the EU to the extent that they would remain in the single market, when Scotland won’t?

Is the risk to an approximate 80,000 Scottish jobs after a no deal Brexit something we should just accept?

Are you happy that the control of Scottish farming, fishing and the environment will be handed over to London, rather than Holyrood, where these powers will be used to meet the priorities of the British state rather than for the benefit of the people of Scotland?

Are you concerned about the future treatment of the many EU nationals in Scotland from other European countries, many of whom work in vital services like NHS Scotland, and the probable reality that there will be shortages of skilled labour in key employment areas in a country with an ageing population after Brexit?

It’s coming folks, it’s six months away. The dying throes of a cast aside former world power, self- deluded and unbelievably still haughty about where it thinks it fits in in the world, blissfully ignoring reality, are not going to be pretty.

Scotland must escape this. There is no alternative. Independence is the only answer, or we go down with them.

The Empire Biscuit


Ye know every time I see the image, animated or otherwise, of the Ray Alan Lord Charles Puppet-like fizzer of Ross Thomson on the telly or on social media I wish I’d had advance notice of at least 8 hours so I could at least have had a go at nil by mouth to stop me chucking up into my throat my morning toast and banana. Mind you they do say a dry boak is sarer than a full bodied honk, so maybe not.

I’ve just watched his celebratory dig at half the population of Scotland, which he did on the fourth anniversary of the day a country voted against itself taking control of its own destiny. A jibe at the people of his own nation for having the audacity to believe that their country would be better off being run by the folk who live there rather than those he sits behind in Westminster’s parliamentary chamber, a place where he spends his days syco-phantasizing (a new word is born, but seems to fit) and doing a great impression to camera of Meg Ryan in Sleepless in Cowdenbeath every time some numpty hooray millionaire Brexiteer stands up in front of him to tell the House how wonderful Rule Britannia is as a stirring bolster to the working classes as they go about their business in the fields and foodbank queues.

I remain convinced that the fellow, like many of his ilk, is interested in only one thing, his career. His plan is to sook his way, toady-like, all the way to a twenty-five year award of ermine and non-voting board memberships for services to the British state. Just another self-serving waster. But I suppose we can satisfy ourselves in one sense that unless he’s very good at hiding his true self he is clearly thick as a brick, or perhaps two.

His placing of his two lovely flegs, which are always nice and wholesome when they are red, white and blue, in a kind of a Blue Peter, the Archers and Last Night of the Proms way, but somehow sinister and nasty when they are just blue and white, was just lovely, and reminded me of my wee two year old grandson and the blankie that my wife keeps for him when he stays overnight at our place. I can just picture Ross sitting at his office desk wrapped in his wee flags, sooking on the label of one whilst rubbing his chin with the end of the other one, rocking himself gently to slumber as the letter from a worried constituent with a housing problem on the screen in front of him, which he’s read four times but still doesn’t understand, fades unimportantly from his gaze.

As for the ‘British’ teacake gag, ooft, how very witty. I’ll wind up the looney end of the separatistas with this one thinks the bold Ross. Oh dear. How childish. He’d
be better with an Empire Biscuit.

Almost Ross Thomson’s every utterance, act or decision as a Westminster parliamentarian clearly demonstrates the pressing need for Scotland to take back responsibility for its own governance and harness the huge talent, expertise, intelligence and vital spirit of genuine servants of the people to improve the lot of all Scots, not just Ross’s pals.

I await the day that Scotland is at last a self-governing independent country. In the hours that follow that outcome I really would love to see Ross being asked how he feels about it by one of the state propaganda media outlets in Scotland. I don’t expect I will though.




YES with a capital ‘Y’ capital ‘E’ capital ‘S’!

I was so pleased to read an article in today’s National which tells us that the Scottish Independence Convention (SIC) are about to get out from behind their flipcharts and Power-point presentations, get on to the front foot, and get right in about devising the strategic vision to take forward the case for independence to the not-yet-convinced amongst us, that I almost bought some new comfy door-chapping shoes.

Also (great celestial overseer be praised) in a country where you can hear one day the factually least popular political leader being described on the British state broadcaster’s Sunday politics show as the most popular in Scotland, and then a couple of days later one of the long-established newspapers, the entirely inappropriately named Scotsman, using bumph from some heavily unionist leaning thought washing group, runs a large top line headline that says Independence would be eight times more damaging than Brexit, I’m pleased to hear that SIC, will be constructing a fact checking and rebuttal service to go forth and tear into all the negative misleading and factually incorrect anti-self-determination, pro-British propaganda.

The SNP have recently started ramping that area of communication up too so between the two organisations we in the Indy movement will hopefully very soon see more rebuttal firepower being deployed to fight the 24 hours a day brainwashing of Scotland bad, pool and share (into London) UK good.

The trick to all of that of course will be ensuring that those providing the Indy rebuttal manage to achieve a platform to be heard. However if the state biased media try a bit of the old subtle censorship (that we all know they have a long history of) a properly resourced high profile, that is important, SIC communication unit, through alternative media sources, won’t be long in convincing the Scottish public that yet again the red, white and blue wool is being slipped over their een.

Of course they are going to need some cash to get this going, in order to hire the right staff and to get resourced. A fundraiser will be launched on November 30th.

They are getting my money. Whatever I can afford they are getting.  I would urge grassroots groups to get right behind this initiative. I’ve said it before, most recently during the horrors of the great SNP civil war conflict that never was, amidst the incoming waves of burnt tawtie scones and the ancient forest defoliation caused by carpet bombing raids using Agent Stovies, and I’ll say it again. We in the independence movement are all entitled to our personal opinion, we’ll whinge, we’ll argue, we’ll snipe, we’ll disagree, we’ll rip the pish out of each other, amongst ourselves, but when it comes to the crunch we are one. We need to be, we only have each other. We are together in our unfailing resolve that our country will once again be an independent self-determining nation.

I think the emergence of SIC to push us forward into the referendum campaign that will see us over the line is on this significant date, 18th September 2018,  a positive to help us further on our journey to Independence.


No quarter given


My, hasn’t that time passed quickly? We find ourselves on the eve of the fourth anniversary of the first occasion our fellow Scots were asked to consider whether they wished to continue to be governed by a neighbouring larger country or, like most other countries in the world, take on the responsibility of determining our own future destiny as an independent self-governing nation.

Logic would dictate, in normal circumstances, and been shown to be correct time and time again over the last seventy or eighty years, that the latter option would have been the choice made by the voters of almost any other country. For a number of reasons somehow Scotland was different.

I firmly believe that we are ready. We are absolutely ready to cut away that all –consuming jagged and crumbling monolith of cringe and negativity that is chained tightly around our shoulders as a nation, and get up off our knees.

Imagine a country free from years and years of being told it is useless when it clearly and demonstrably isn’t.

Imagine a democratically elected parliament debating issues of the day with a focus on one entirely cross-party objective, making the lives of all of the citizens of that country better. No bickering about being British or Scottish, or the baggage and spin of loyalties to favour and patronage from a neighbouring larger country,  just all parties, traditional and inevitably some new entrants, applying their set of political beliefs to that one objective.

It certainly won’t be a Nirvana by any means but can you picture a chamber full of elected representatives where the dynamic in the room is more likely to be geared towards the government of the day, of whichever political hue that Scotland’s people decide at any given time , identifying that yes, we’ve recognised that there is a problem with this or that aspect of health care, education, housing, employment, the environment, or even an opportunity to radically improve it, we acknowledge it, so now what can we all do as parliamentarians to apply ourselves to fix it or improve it, rather than politicians constantly bickering, blaming, grand-standing, fear mongering  and acting like the archaic circus dedicated to the maintenance of privilege and a wealthy elite that is Westminster?

All these years we’ve wasted. All of those opportunities that we’ve missed to eradicate poverty, shelter those who need it and improve the health of our people. It’s a crying shame. Our country’s governance at the will and whim of a neighbouring power situated in what could itself be described as a city state, whose priorities, entirely removed from Scotland’s priorities, always, always come first. Our natural resources, from our seas, from our land, from our coastal boundaries. Our uniquely Scottish branded exports, our renewable energy technology, our technical innovation, even our very geographic strategic position for the defence of their country with least risk to them, all have been exploited and utilised to meet their needs first, not yours, not Scotland’s.

The people of Scotland live in a country which has had a massive influence on the modern world as it exists today, in many fields. That is not fabrication, it is factual.  I write that not as a plea to harken back to days of glory, I’ll leave that sort of thing to our bewilderingly supercilious British nationalist neighbours. However we don’t hear so much about Scotland’s former influence in amongst the daily dirge, from dawn till lights out, of systematic media institutionalised anti-independence propaganda. It’s so ingrained that some in certain media outlets genuinely do not understand that it is there.

I’m afraid to say, in fact no I’m not, I’m pleased to say, that the days of “what currency are you going to use?” or “ will my granny from Leeds be a foreigner?” will have no credibility this time. None at all.

We are ready, the preparations are taking place. There can be doubt, no quarter given, that a country striving to look after its own people’s needs will triumph over the option to continue to allow someone else to make our decisions for us, to meet their own priorities, this time.

We await an announcement of the date for the day of reckoning. If I was asked to consider when that will be I reckon around a year from now, August or September 2019.


There’ll always be an England


I’ve said from the very beginning of the farce that is Brexit, the day after the votes were cast some time ago now, that I don’t think the current UK will ultimately end up leaving the European Union. I still think that may be the case, for the alternative is frightening.

Initially the ragtag bunch of right-wing public school entitled mobsters who orchestrated the result could not completely believe that the public had actually fallen for their xenophobic straight banana, ‘taking back control’ scaremongering (from an organisation who can’t actually make a decision without its member countries agreeing to it first, and whose Court of Human Rights overturns judgements on an average of less than 3% of decisions which impact British law a year, despite what the Daily Hate Mail and Depress would have you believe).

Think back to those heady early days of the likes of the ubiquitous Johnson, Gove, Davis, Fox and Redwood (scary scary man) ducking into the backs of cars, like they were being lifted by the polis, charging around London from one meeting to another trying to appear as if they were busy and in control, but wringing their hands in private, and wondering ‘what are we going to do now, we won?’

All of this bizarre circus has been solely about internal Tory politics, and latterly New/ Old/ Trotsky/ Blairite/ Pretendy Jesus Labour internal politics, them jumping on the same bandwagon. They’ve procrastinated, they’ve better procrastinated, they’ve dithered, they’ve mis-informed, they’ve blamed everybody else that can possibly be dragged into it for their own failings, they’ve ignored expert opinion, they’ve dismissed the democratic will of a country that they have always insisted their country is in a partnership with, and insulted its people.

As a leadership group of one of the cold-warring factions within the Tory party vying for control, once they have no further use for the veiled shield of the totemic wild dancing puppet in the hot-seat currently, they do not have the combined intellectual capacity to understand the complexities and intricate details of what leaving the world’s largest free trading bloc entails.

Through their little-Britain-early-days-of-returning-to-having-world-influence in countries they’ve previously plundered tinted-glasses ( Like those world nations would allow this to happen twice) their natural arrogance and lack of self-awareness blinds them to their weaknesses. The near century decline of the UK, or as they really see themselves, England, as a caterpillar on the sleeve of Uncle Sam’s dress uniform, leaving them now worryingly joined at the hip to a wildly dangerous demagogue narcissist, seems to have passed them by.

Now? Now they are going to run down the clock to the very last minute that they can get away with as March 2019 approaches with no plan, No clear path to what happens next.

It’ll be the EU’s fault, the London crew will say. They’ve driven too hard a bargain, the Irish border is not really a problem, Chequers would have worked, Chequers wouldn’t have worked, we’re not making good our financial liabilities associated with leaving the EU because we’ve not been allowed to pick and choose the terms of a future trading relationship. Scotland will get pelters too. As it gets close we’ll be accused of being disloyal, of going behind their back to Europe, they’ll say that they could have had an arrangement with the EU much earlier if the devolved administrations had shown a united front and come into line with the ‘will of the people’. We meddled and queered their pitch.

In the end the whole thing will come to a grinding halt. A choice will then be required to be made by whomever holds the strings in Whitehall when we get there. That choice will be to either completely lose face and presumably end the political careers and aspirations of the gang of high profile Brexiteers who caused all of this to occur in the first place by seeking a let bygones be bygones forget all about it retention of EU membership, or to jump blindly into the unknown no-deal Britannic future of protectionism (with little to protect), even less foreign influence, and more inward focus.

If this happens the citizens of Europe will look on, shaking their heads, the leaders of the EU remaining as bewildered about the behaviour of their British colleagues as they have been for the last two years. Jocular conversations in the bistros and cafes of Brussels, Paris and Berlin will reflect the opinion that the political class of the UK clearly have rocks between their ears instead of brains.

The worry is what happens then?

Scotland has a lifeboat to escape this disaster. The people of Scotland must jump on-board when the time to do so becomes clear.


It’s my baw, and I’m no’ playing


And there we were, happy to declare that the much media reported and prayed for (by them) inaccurate, and self-prophesied civil war that never actually existed was over, amongst the stockpiled Greggs sausage roll shaped rockets and Irn bru dipped artillery shells.

Little did we know that during all of this trench warfare taking place in tea rooms and public houses that tension was indeed rising. The ego’s were landing on the beaches. The self-appointed thinkers, the Wolfie Smiths with politics degrees always ready to be offended by something that doesn’t fit within the utopian sanitised view they espouse for Scotland, always eager to tell us we’re wrong and why, were getting their ragged trousers in a angst-ridden knot again.

Does anybody really think that on Saturday morning a large screen in George Square showing a clipped down version of a Hollywood movie for an hour that’s as true to historical record as Errol Flynn stoating aboot in green tights whilst sweeping Olivia De Havilland off her feet and cutting the heed off a candle with his sword in Robin Hood is going to do much harm to the cause of an independent Scotland?

Is our cause that weak? Really? Do you expect the unionist media to write a less scathing report of the Hope Over Fear event, if at all, if Mel Gibson’s ‘Skawlin’ contribution is not included? Cue the wringing of hands.

Also recently did the website that provides the best analysis countering all of the state propaganda spin and misinformation fed to us, information we share with our fellow Scots to demonstrate what’s actually going on, deserve to be classed as a ‘hate blog’, and then be sniped at this week again in an almost childish manner, both by another apparently still independence supporting long standing website?

Wouldn’t it be great if all of the energy, passion and emotion that is put in by the more publicly visible members of the Indy movement, I hesitate to call them leaders for that is definitely not what they are or what they demonstrate, was put towards the common goal of us all, which is establishing an independent Scotland, rather than sniping at one another, picking fights and belittling others like weans in the playground?

We’ve all got different views on what our personal Independent Scotland will look like. The direction of travel which Scotland has so clearly been taking now for a number of years is towards the day when it will be self-governing. Is that not easier achieved together?

Talk about making it harder for ourselves. It’s maybe a Scottish thing.