Bang to rights

“Mother of God, Joseph, the baby Jesus, the wee donkey, and the three lads with the fancy hats who brought the presents!” 

C’mon now fella, it’s a simple question, and we need an answer. 

Now. Who picked that wallpaper?”

Tired old worn out Project Fear

To the loud strains of a recorded ‘Last Night of the Proms’ rendition of the rules being waived, the Gammon-Bourgeois lurch confusedly around their conservatories, bouncing off the double glazing, like dodgems at the Burntisland Shows. 

Their minds are unable to compute that their favourite red, white and blue through –and-through newspaper, and their wholesome Britannic broadcasting network, are criticising, but only ever so gently mind, that nice man with the agreeable posh accent, and funny hair, who talks in riddles that no one can understand, and half right Latin quotations.

He is being mildly chastised (Nanny won’t be reading him excerpts from Oedipus Rex before bedtime for the next few nights, and there shall be no second mugs of cocoa) for indiscretions which others, others outside of the cosy entrenched exceptionalist order, would be metaphorically hung, drawn and quartered.

He has spent your tax money to seduce a woman, he’s misled the monarch, he’s done dodgy deals to make his pals fortunes from ordinary peoples misery, he’s courted lobbyists, opened his gub and let his belly rumble, resulting in an innocent mother languishing in a foreign gaol, he’s been a bit creative with the accounting for some seriously hideous wallpaper for his Downing Street flat, he’s spent yet more heaps of tax payers money doing up an aeroplane because he fancied doing it, and creating a media centre which he’s already abandoned after about two weeks. His dangerous incompetence has overseen the deaths of over 100,000 innocent souls. 

However If the comments currently attributed to him regarding those deaths and Covid -19 lockdowns, by what usually is his media support network, the organisations which put him in his job, are true, then the man is clearly evil and despicable, as if that was in any doubt on his past record.

Alternatively, at the other end of the spectrum of accountability woe betide you if you forget the date and time of a meeting you were involved in, or have any intentions of concentrating most of your waking hours on trying to protect those who elected you, and those who didn’t, (as a leader, keeping you awake at night) from a potentially deadly virus, and heaven help you if you advocate for a future that does not involve being governed by another country.

Last Sunday lunchtime’s offering of the Andrew Marr show was a perfect example. A veritable pussycat when it comes to conversing with any politician of a Unionist leaning, (he’d be as well offering them tea and an assortment of penguin biscuits) the man seems to transform, taking on an aggressive alter-ego when faced with the prospect of interviewing the First Minister of Scotland’s devolved limited powers government.

Unwilling to engage in any discussion in, or of, the present, or the future, via the policies of the manifesto the First Minister’s party is putting forward to accompany its bid to continue as the governing party at Holyrood, Marr battered on in there, covering a well -worn path yet again. Stuck in lazy Project Fear mode for at least the last seven years, with no sense of nuance, he is a typical anti-Scot Scot, ah la Gove, Oliver, Andrew Neil et al, a product of the  ‘I didn’t get where I am today without being a component pawn of the Union’ school of thought.

When it comes to these encounters it is clear that as an interviewer he doesn’t actually want an answer to any of the questions he asks. 

It is easy to spot this because he is not in the slightest bit interested in what Nicola Sturgeon, or anyone else from Scotland’s government has to say. This can also be clearly verified by the fact that as soon as the interviewee begins to respond to his questions he tries to shut them up again with a dismissive comment. In fact all he wants to do is make statements about how rotten Scotland is at everything. He just chunters on and on.

He’s obsessed with borders, Scotland independence bad border, UK taking the huff with 27 trading partners good borders. Go figure? Nope, I don’t get that one either. A border, when it comes, between Scotland and England will be a line in the tarmac, a sign by the road, unless the right-wing little imperialist government of the day in London decide they can’t handle that. It is their problem, not ours, a red herring of a problem if ever there was one. 

The First Minister mentioned on more than one occasion that currently Scottish businesses are suffering having been taken against their will out of a market 7 times bigger than the UK market, to which she received yet more Marr interruptions, unhappy with her answer. 

Had she modelled the impact of independence on incomes, asked the British state drone? No she hadn’t because we are not at the point of an independence campaign as yet, and when we are we will want that information to be current. A perfectly sensible answer to you and me. 

Not to Mr Marr, who thought he’d just trumped her by quoting a line from the First Minister saying that it had been shameful that the UK government had not done so on Brexit.

Eh, yes she’s right, and, no they didn’t, at all. Scotland criticised for not doing something they intend to do, at the right time, somehow spun and compared to look the same as a government of incompetent posh self-entitled wankers who think all foreigners are beneath them. I fear old Andrew didn’t quite think that one through properly either. 

A study shows Scottish incomes will drop, if you leave the UK, said the now floundering host.

At this point, and heavenly bodies love her, she’d been patient, but she lost the rag with him. We saw what we know is there, behind the considered respectful stateswoman she needs to be as First Minister. We saw what she has been before, and what she will be again, once a date is fixed for the referendum end game. 

The thin lips got thinner, the eyes focussed to withering clarity and the chattering interruptor, seeing that he was about to be verbally battered, and tongue lashed scrambled for ‘we must leave it there’ but not before the words were out, and I paraphrase….. ‘ The UK is currently in £2.1 trillion debt, based on the decisions made by Westminster and the Treasury.

Are you really saying that Scotland, with all its assets and resources, uniquely is incapable of being a successful independent country?  

I’d say after ten years of Tory austerity, supposed to reduce debt, whilst UK finances continues to perilously increase debt, part of which Scotland will need to pay, although we didn’t make the choices which accrued it, is an argument for independence Andrew, not against it, wouldn’t you? ‘

“Oh damn, we’ve run out of time.”……..

Surely it’s a joke?

Ooft! This run up to the Holyrood elections just gets more bizarre by the minute. 

I’ve just caught up there with the man that’s had mair parties than Shug Hefner, George ‘indefatigability’ Galloway’s party political broadcast for his latest ego platform ‘All In It  For the Onions’. 

Wow, just wow!  

https://t.co/OWlTZundnK

First things first I hope he’s weighed the RAF in wae a bung for using their roundels as his party symbol. 

How a guy who once allegedly despised everything about the former imperial power that rules our country can now attempt to be even remotely credible with views which are at a 180 degrees to his apparent original views I’ll never know. 

He had always considered himself, in his own wee egotistical lunchtime, to be something of an orator, of Churchillian proportions in fact, which might explain the phoatie of the symbol of British nationalist hero worship over his left shooder, but the deliberation in his speech, the rhythm and timing of his words have now slowed to the point that he sounds like he’s no’ right, or hawf cut, or both. He’s like a political version of 1980’s talking head Max Headroom. 

As for the broadcast itself, as usual in the world of exceptionalist onionism, there were no policies, nothing positive to say about the Union, apart from craving a glorious past that wasn’t actually glorious for 99% of those around at the time. 

All he could resort to was the standard stop independence, the trite use of the word ‘neverendum’ and in terms of candidates, trust me I’m a Doctor, ex army officer, lawyer, and a body double for Tom Hanks in the movie ‘Castaway’. 

In fact at one stage, as one of his candidates spoke to camera, a legion of seagulls in the background sounded like they were giggling hysterically at the very thought of anyone voting for this mob. 

Chuck it gorgeous, you’re mair use in a leotard making cat noises. What is under that hat he refuses to take off? 

I think I’ll just stick with independence. How about you? 

There is no credible answer

It took me a few days to catch up but It was like watching a sleek leopard chasing down a blind-folded gazelle with a club foot across the sultry veldt whilst David Attenborough quietly narrates the descriptive inevitability that a feed of fresh raw meat under a shady tree engenders, as the feline swishes away the surrounding flies with its tail.

It started with Channel 4’s Ciaran Jenkins interview with Ross Murray, Murray Ross, Murray Douglas, or whatever he is currently called, the other day, beside a brick wall. A backdrop that the Tory branch manager, (once described by Ruth ‘House of Lords woman of the people’ Davidson as being like a young Jack Kennedy, clearly whilst she was high on crack) looked like he wanted to climb over to escape further punishment.

The Channel 4 bloke tried all sorts of ways to get him to answer a very simple question about democracy, with no success.

(I paraphrase) “So, Ross Murray, representative of the British government in Scotland, what happens if you lose and the people of Scotland vote by majority to have an independence referendum in the May election. Will you accept that?’   

RM: “I’m not going to speculate here Bob, the election hasn’t taken place yet.”

“I’m not asking you to speculate, Murray Ross, I’m asking you what you think should happen if the people of Scotland vote for an independence referendum. Will you accept the mandate to do so? 

MR : “The separatists thought they’d get a majority the last time Bill, to separate our beautiful and bountiful Union but then they didn’t, did they?”

‘Yes, but you are not answering the question. If democratically the people of Scotland vote by majority for a referendum what will you do. What is the democratic means to hold a referendum?’

MR: “They’ve had one Biff. It’s been settled. Let me be laser focussed on this. We had a referendum just a few weeks ago, in fact only 344 weeks ago to be precise. The people of Scotland have spoken. They have every confidence in our government, led by Boris Johnson and his fine cabinet of intellectual heavyweights. They are staying in the Union.”

‘Right, so you are not going to answer that question. I see your media advisor is having kittens just off to the left of our camera, and he seems to be checking his LinkedIn account for job vacancies, but we’ll soldier on. Murray Douglas what is the legal process for the people of Scotland to have their will acknowledged and their collective democratic decision actioned?’

MD: “The separatists want to release wildcats into the highlands Bertie, which is illegal, of course. We need to recover from the pandemic, and spending hours chasing wildcats around the mountains is just going to add to our problems. If they then have a wildcat referendum it would be absolutely silly because wildcats can’t hold those cheap little pencil things that you get in the voting booths, which you can rub out. The Scottish people can see that, and appreciate our strong Bilge-Backed-Belters government, led by our Prime Minister, who’d rather spend the night in a fridge than return to Scotland, with his laser focused lasers.’

My name is Ciaran by the way. So what if, say 50%, 60%, 70% or even 80% of voters vote for an independence referendum. What will you do then?

MD: “Have you tried Greggs Bacon and Cheese wraps Kevin?  I love them. They just melt in your mouth, so they do. I can eat two”.

The man is not long for that job.

Since then, also encouragingly from an Independence supporting point of view, in the last day or so, popping up on social media I’ve seen Kate Forbes, Cabinet Secretary for Finance in the current Holyrood devolved limited powers government, handing thone Boris Johnson cheerleader Tory-boy Andrew Bowie his erse on the same topic.(Every time I see him I get more and more convinced he’s wearing eye liner. He’s like an early 1980’s Jim Kerr, before he started wearing a beret). 

Faced with the statement that London ignoring the majority democratic will of the people of Scotland changes the Union from being a partnership based on consent to one which can only be secured by force of law the Tory MP for Smug had no answer, nothing credible, apart from we’ve had our tea in 2014. Nothing positive to say about the Union.  All he could do was his usual mad shaking of the head from side-to-side in a fake indignant incredulous manner, with the odd break out of rolled eyes and looking to the heavens, like he’d just discovered that he’s stood in the yesterday’s breakfast of a passing Afghan hound. They simply don’t have an answer. There isn’t one.

The Union is done. It is way past its best, unfit for purpose and it is running out of lucky escapes. There is a certain inevitability about independence, whenever it comes. Resisting the natural and just forward motion, the will of a sovereign people, in the end, will result in the same outcome for the Union as an animal not on the top of its game, past its peak and not carrying a great deal of luck, suffers when being pursued by a hungry predator.

‘Mother of God’

“Mother of God son, will you answer the question? You are not showing yourself up in a good light here, and if you mess us around it will not go well for you. I assure you we will prosecute you as far as we can go, we do our duty to the letter of the law, the letter.

You’ve got a remarkably convenient alibi there, like your grandmother’s nightdress, it covers everything. 

You say you weren’t there at the time because you were having your photograph taken whilst standing on the bonnet of a military armoured vehicle? Smells more than fishy to me, that one.

You initially deny the charge we’ve put to you, yet the evidence and the facts all point to the clear conclusion that you are guilty. You thought you were bossing the game son, didn’t you, then you gave away a penalty?

It’s a simple question fella. Once and for all, are you, or are you not, an agent of the (OCG) Organised crime group known as the London Tories, unable to make any decisions for yourself, and acting only on any instructions provided by them?

For the purposes of the tape Mr Douglas, known also by his several aliases, has not answered the question. 

We’re going to throw the book at you now son. I must caution you, and advise you that I am now seeking the advice of prosecuting authorities with regards to the charges which……..”

In memoriam

According to news reports today Covid-19 has now taken  over 3 million souls across the world.  

Also today in the UK a man surrounded by untold wealth, privilege and access to unquestioning influence and patronage by marriage, a man who lived a full life for many years longer than the rest of us will, who once when asked by an interviewer what he would like to be if he was reborn, answered that he would like to come back as a deadly virus to solve overpopulation, will be farewelled like he’s almost an earthbound deity. 

My thoughts are with the 3 million innocents. 

Progressive

Spring is springing like a springy spring-worthy wee thing, sunny, freezing cauld, dry and blue skies, a bit warmer and then pouring wae rain, a traditional beckoning in of the summer months. 

The Covid seems tae be in abeyance, temporary or otherwise, thank goodness, there is cause for some cautious optimism, renewed connections with loved ones and friends, and the party of the current Scottish limited powers devolved government has released their manifesto for the Scottish parliamentary elections on 6th May.

It’s no’ perfect, nothing ever is, there are initiatives that you can pick holes in, or priorities which personally you might want given greater or less emphasis, or which are missing.

Overall to my way of thinking though it is an ambitious progressive set of targets, the likes of which perhaps haven’t been seen in Scotland since the days of the post-war settlement of the second half of the 1940’s and early 1950’s, put forward by a government-in–waiting, setting out it’s early stall for the framework and foundation of transition to a re-constituted independent nation.

A 20% injection of investment into frontline NHS services (as a minimum) deserves a Mexican wave round Arthur’s Seat on its own. 

Other notable major investments in education, anti-poverty initiatives feeding weans that require feeding, commitments to prioritising a programme of affordable housing build, a citizens basic income and much more, are what I want to hear about from a government of Scotland. 

If Thatcher hadn’t kicked off an ever growing culture of greed, and New Labour hadn’t pissed away the values of the past, these are the policies of the socialism I recognise from the past, aimed towards creating and framing the country I would like to see. 

Crucially too these are all initiatives which take Scotland further along a divergent road away from the Westminster clown shoe project.

I’m not looking for an argument, or a pile on, to be insulted or belittled, and I’m not going to waste any energy in getting involved in responding to any of that, should it come. 

I also don’t need what I’ve written here to be forensically critiqued. It does not require one, it is an opinion, it is my opinion, and we are all entitled to an opinion. This is mine. Others are available, many others. 

Oh, and by the way I’m not a member of a Nicola cult either, before I get accused of that, In fact, being firmly of a republican nature, I’m a bit disappointed that she went down the line of her predecessor’s handling of matters royal, in her tribute and comments, following the recent death of the Duke of Edinburgh, rather than taking the more accurate honest line of her colleague from the Greens. 

But I get that in her role as First Minister, she doesn’t just represent one view, she has to represent all the views of the people of Scotland. She must speak for all.

As I see it, the First Minister of Scotland is right in her assertion that if elected to government again her government will only move forward towards a referendum on independence once the active pandemic is over. ‘How long will that take, when will that be?’ the voices from the gallery wail. It’s a pandemic, nobody knows, it might flare up again the morn’s morning. It will happen when it happens.

From the get-go the current First Minister of Scotland, an adult-life-long believer in a sovereign independent Scotland, has made it abundantly clear that her goal is not to deliver a referendum on independence, her goal is to deliver an independent Scotland, and that is what I believe, (despite all of the noise and whatever else, much of which hasn’t even required our opponents on the side of union to put down their popcorn and get up off the settee) she will deliver. 

To the questions that constantly come up on the subject of delay, questions like ‘We’ve had enough, there has been mandate after mandate, and still the SNP with their feet under the table refuse to call a referendum, why not?’ my humble opinion is this, Yes would not have won a referendum during any of the time between 2014 and the start of the pandemic. 

We simply did not have the numbers. A referendum with a bad outcome during this time would have set us back decades or along the same route as Quebec. Never fight a battle you know you are going to lose.

Another, “We should call for UDI, why do we need England’s permission?” In reality, in my view, we don’t need England, Westminster, or whatever the UK actually is’s permission to do anything. 

We need the people of Scotland’s permission, and in order to get that permission enough of those people of Scotland need to be persuaded to recognise that they themselves have the right to provide that permission, to form a majority. 

This process has moved on leaps and bounds over the last 14 to 16 months. The public confidence in Scotland’s leader, and the ability of Scotland’s folk to governed our country has never been higher, and continues along that trajectory. 

If you declare UDI before reaching the stage where you can all but predict a majority in favour of such a move you won’t get that permission, or the recognition of the international community.

Then there’s the “But what about this section 30 thing? It is not a partnership. Why must we beg them for our own nationhood?’ 

My view is this. A section 30 request is a formality. It is accepted that straw-heid and his cronies will say no, always and forever. We all know that. 

When they do we need to then be able to say to a convinced majority of the Scottish public, convinced by the good governance of the current limited powers devolved administration, particularly demonstrated during the handling of a pandemic, that there is no current lawful route for their will, democracy, to be respected. 

Then, in my opinion, we win. Westminster can squirm, they can wiggle, but a nation by way of majority denied, demonstrating its indignation vis a referendum ballot box, will succeed in its goal. The fallacy of Union exposed in a startling glare. 

Bear in mind though all of this becomes eminently more difficult should the SNP return only a minority government in May. 

As you move further afield than close by your homes this weekend under the phased, and in this case, amended, loosening of the lockdown rules, tell yer granny n granda, your brothers and sisters, daughters and sons, Mam’s and Dad’s and grandweans I was asking for them. Enjoy it, you’ve earned it. 

‘Just cos’

When my eldest grandson was under 5, full of the energy, mischief and the inquisitorial drive that small children have, as they soak up knowledge like wee sponges, he was often, as is normal, caught out either being somewhere he shouldn’t be, or doing something he shouldn’t be doing.

On such occasions, when quizzed about whichever minor transgression he had committed, by an adult, he would invariably, when asked the question “Why did you do that Conor?” respond with the phrase “just cos”. No explanation, no attempt to dilute or deflect the question, nope, simply “just cos”.

There was something of that simplistic approach on show last night in the latest round the houses STV leadership debate, on the run up to what is likely to be the most important election in the re-convened Scottish parliament’s short history so far.

Yes, Rugless Toss, Ross Douglas, Murray Ross, Douglas Douglason, Rufus T Firefly,or whatever it is he is called this week by his leader in London and the BBC breakfast team (I’m pretty sure much of the electorate are not sure either) the flag-waving VAR with the batteries removed, fair took a verbal skelping under the scrutiny of his peers, which surely will speed up a scurry for his comfy seat back behind Boris Johnson’s right lughole in the Commons chamber, until the good folk of Moray have their say the next time.

It wasn’t the best of starts for Murray as he managed tae get the Chooky Embra (I don’t know if you’ve heard, probably not seeing as the media have all but ignored the event, brace yersels, he’s deid. The BBC have kept it surprisingly quiet) and No to independence in the same opening whinge, and it only went downhill after that.

The moment that reminded me of oor Conor though was, when the Doogster was asked by the moderator, Colin McKay, why an independence referendum couldnae take place during the same period as the recovery from Covid-19 (showing some series brassnecked-ness when you consider the party he represents, you know, currently the retained powers government of Scotland from London, carried on with a break up of disastrous economic seismic proportions from its main trading partners during a withering pandemic where thousands of its citizens died) he responded simply with the words “ you just can’t Colin”. 

Oh well, that’s that then, now we know. ‘just cos’. That’s it all cleared up for us.

After a slight pause, recognising his gaff, he tried to talk his way out of it, but nothing that came out of his mouth at that moment provided any further clarification than “you just can’t Colin”.

The format of letting each ‘leader’ tear the mince out of each other, (rather than have the usual on-tap Zoom unionist-supporting ‘random’ selection of the public accuse Nicola Sturgeon of everything dastardly that’s occurred since the Lindbergh kidnap) didnae really help old Lugless either, as he stood there getting scudded across the coupon with a succession of wet fish. 

Watching his body language as he awaited questioning, pensive-lipped, hands firmly crossed across his conkers, he looked like he was in dire need of a visit to the cludgy, or was awaiting a free kick to bounce off his Vulcan shaped heid.

Interesting too, and a clear sign of nerves, poor Rugless, in the style of unionist slaverers of a bygone age, the former Viceroy of Joy, Davey Mundell and the egg man, Jum Murphy, started to have issues with his words, note his pronunciation of “last Fryday” whilst being asked about his party ignoring the climate crisis, and shortly after he had been quizzed about the absolute betrayal of the Scottish fishing industry that Brexit has been (mibbees he’s got shares in a chippy I dunno). 

Then while still rocked by wee Green Pat belting him around the napper about his prejudices against travelling folk he made the Freudian slip of saying he’ll always ‘stand up to’ constituents seeking his help, perhaps he meant for. 

I was quite impressed with Patrick Harvey, as I was with his co-convenor of the Greens Lorna Slater during the last debate. 

As usual we got the forces of branch management, ganging up on the party of independence, wailing, ringing their hands a bit and crying in the direction of the SNP representative akin to ‘you’ve had 14 years, why haven’t you cured cancer, even though our lords and masters have expressly forbidden you from entering a medical laboratory, why? why? why?Nicola you monster!’ 

But it was refreshing to see wee Pat and the First Minister throw each other gentle lay ups at one point tae batter back at the wallopers to emphasise and reiterate that aye, Tories are bastards and no’ tae be trusted, and, the only way tae get any input intae the EU, UN and global climate summits is to step away from the clown shoe project which currently exists at Westminster. 

Anas Sarwar, New Labour’s latest attempt at kidding folk on that Labour actually still exists, again was composed, as he was in the first debate. However his repetitious patter is already getting a wee bit stale. I fear we’re gonnae hear the phrase “ …….does not recognise borders so we should work together and not seek to divide through a referendum ” many more times over the next few weeks. 

He’s currently using it for Covid-19, poverty and the climate crisis, but it can’t be too long until he’s expanded it tae things like…’the filling of Greggs sausage rolls don’t recognise borders etc’.

In reality the electorate arenae daft. They know that whatever comes out of Anas Sarwar’s mouth will only ever reflect what the mothership, the inert neo-Liberal entity which has thoroughly betrayed its roots, based in London, tells him to say. 

Then there’s Wee Wullie Rennie. What can you say aboot Wullie than hisnae been said before. Oh, he’s developed a new style in debates, a new technique. What he does is ask a question, usually about the divisiveness of an independence referendum (he’s almost as bad as the Tories) then as the person he’s aimed the question at attempts to answer the question he just keeps shouting that person’s name repeatedly over and over again. 

It’s not a good look, makes him look even more of a choob, and makes the casual viewer wish that the person he is aiming this at would stop their answer and simply say to him ‘ will you shut yer hole and let me answer the question’.

In the face of all of this the First Minister of Scotland, often casually leaning against her lectern, surely must have been looking at her watch and wondering if she still had time to receive an update on the last Covid-19 sit rep before bedtime. 

Doug-less

It is gonnae be a right shoutie election this one, that’s for sure.

With news that the VAR on the armoured car, Rugless Toss, Ross Doodlepump, Doogie Murray, or whatever it is he likes to be called today, is set to be unceremoniously hoyed oot the road, away from the public eye as much as possible (for fear the Tories in Scotland may end up after the election only being represented in Holyrood by a photograph of Annabel Goldie smoking a pipe whilst wearing a tartan shawl) to be replaced by the Erminator, back for one final soor-pussed attack on the perfectly normal concept of self-determination, the Tories are undoubtedly on the back foot.

Clearly his sparkling personality, wit and earthy plausibility is no’ quite catching on with voters.

Nae sooner had she left, at the close of the final session of this parliament, (the ither day) having had several bits of her anatomy handed to her on a plate on a regular basis for some time now at First Ministers Questions, the Ruthster, sullen, huffy but cheered at the prospect of receiving 330 quid a day in the skyrocket for doing hee haw, other than slagging off the poor, the vulnerable and seekers of self-determination, oh, and indulging in a wee bit shut eye between courses in the subsidised Palace of Westminster eating rooms, she’s made a comeback.

This follows the latest (in fact no it’s not now, they seem to be coming out every other day) a poll which sent the poor wee lambs of Mogg into a panic, predicting a supra-dupra-majority for the good guys and surrounding camps and the Tories heading for a skelping which would see their depleted number of representatives in the Holyrood chamber having to duck for cover during the opening session of the parliament lest a mouldy sausage supper comes flying their way from the massed benches around them.

“Don’t panic Captain, Ruthie is here, and she’s looking to form a Belters Together pact”.

Let’s see if the fairly new New Labour branch convenor goes for it, particularly with their apparent new found urge for second place, ahead of the Tories.

Wee Wullie Rennie, fresh from getting his phoaties taken for his part in the remake of “Land of the Giants” might be keen I’d imagine, especially with that smug guy, who may or may not, or may or may not, cough, allegedly, have been involved in a recent committee leak, (you know the one, the guy that swears at female political opponents on Zoom because he knows they cannae batter his melt in, in response, because it’s not face-to-face) ready tae do the ‘Et tu Brute’ at the earliest opportunity on Wee Wull.

Aye, and then there’s Gorgeous George. Nah, you’re right, I agree, he’s no even worth talking about.

It’ll be an interesting few weeks though.

Sad news

Sad news indeed tae hear that Paul Kavanagh, the “Wee Ginger Dug” for the sake of his continuing recovery back to health after his stroke, has had to chuck his blog in, in the run up to the Holyrood Elections, due to online abuse. 

Online abuse, not from British nationalist bullies sitting in darkened room in last-night’s-dinner-stained vests, scratching their oxsters and staring at the bright lights of a laptop in front of them, No, not from them, but from others, supposed to be supporters of an independent Scotland. Many of whom, I believe, who cowardly hide behind anonymous social media made up names.

I can’t believe it has gotten to this. The man has spent years dedicated tae the service of an independent Scotland, not for profit or personal gain. He has traversed the country, to countless small meetings of Indy groups, with his faithful pal Ginge, now sadly gone, a wee cheery beastie that could charm a peece at anyone’s door. 

The entrancing charm of the Yes Movement, the Hope, the inclusiveness, the positivity, the kindness towards our ain folk, and everybody elses’ folk, seems to be being eroded by some pretty vile, sinister and corrosive bile and hatred, from within. 

It if continues, if it spreads out of the shouty self-gratifying caverns of social media, and into the real world, where at this point nobody particularly gives a pig’s snotter about it, it will kill the cause of independence.

The negativity, the belittling of others, the self-righteousness, the hate aimed at those who don’t entirely agree with a point of view, will turn many folk off. It is still possible to disagree with someone without insulting them, I hope, or has that maturity of discourse now gone? 

I always thought we, as a movement were aiming to be above all of that shouty-look-at-me nonsense. Maybe not. 

Even with the very small reach this blog has online, it’s aimed, in a small way, at using satire to forward the cause of independence, the levels of abuse I get are increasing. 

I had a guy giving me it tight the other day there, going off on one about a piece I’d posted, I had no right to be criticising and taking the mince out of Alex Salmond in that way, he’s innocent etc etc… The piece which had upset him was a piece about the behaviour of Boris Johnson, and was entirely clear that it was about Boris Johnson. In fact Alex Salmond wasn’t even mentioned. Yet I got a mouthful of rant.

The subjects of the posts in this blog have always been critical of unionism and the current accepted sovereign norms that the UK represents. That will always be the case. Those are our opponents, not each other. Certainly not Paul Kavanagh.

My one hope is that amongst all of this shouting and hate some of these abusers of others are actually members of the propaganda unit our friends to the south have in place to try and stir up discontent, confusion and failure in reaching our goal of Independence, and not our own people. I don’t think that is too far-fetched or tinfoil hatted to imagine.

When you look at many of these anonymous Twitter accounts spilling bile, there’s an awful lot of them seem to have joined Twitter as recently as the last few months of 2020, they have no picture or just a caricature photo and very few followers. It’s not beyond the State folks, and If it is them, we’d best beware. 

A sad day indeed.