“No need to frown, it’s Gordy Brown… Every time just like the last…”

Ah the games that are played in politics in the name of retaining control by manipulating public opinion and confusticating the masses.

Much is being made overnight of Channel 4 getting their coverage pulled by the authorities for trying to report on an apparent unscheduled clandestine visit by Gordy, Son of the Manse, Keeper of the Crypt, and Haverer of the Vow, Broon, to the northern palace of the House of Sax Thingummybob to meet with the heir to the heir to the Iron Throne, keeper of the dragons, the deputy-deputy-high-heid-yin of the big hoose at the end of the Mall in London. 

A meeting, it seems, to discuss their cunning plans to foil the perfectly reasonable and entirely normal aspirations of demonstrably at least half the population of Scotland.

Gordy, having escaped the dungeon yet again, has just co-incidentally, again, re-focused his ‘think tank” (or perhaps it’s his fish tank) towards building a positive case for the union in Scotland, again.

My take on it is this. We’ll hear very little more about it. To the many many Scots, now engaged in the civic journey to rightful self-determination, firmly steeped in the ways of the British nationalist propaganda playbook, those who are now finely tuned to such things, it should be, and is, clear what is afoot.

You’ve got to think of the target audience. Who this stuff is aimed at. Who the whole send up the younger generation of royals (who are not quite yet tarnished with the weird, ritualistic nature of their privileged background, the scandals, the infidelities, and worse) to Scotland to charm the natives and see off this independence lark is geared towards. 

The targets are the not yet convinced members of our communities, the unengaged and the many fine and ordinary folk who see politics and who governs them as being not high priorities in their lives (which is fair enough, in most other modern normal and sovereign first world western countries they shouldn’t have to think about it too much).

Meetings of establishment figures, politicians, senior royal staff and ranking members of that family themselves can, and do, happen at any time they are felt to be necessary, without the public’s knowledge and without public scrutiny. The details of such meetings are not publically reported. So why do this, and why now? 

Like the now infamous Elizabeth the First’s Crathie Kirk Rap of the week before the referendum in 2014 this is a less than subtle staged moment, to do nothing else than simply remind the many that when it comes to the crunch, although they may not say so publically, because as hereditary living deities they are strictly apolitical (snigger) that they, the royal family, back the union, first, foremost and always. 

The idea of Scotland being for the Joe the Toff scares the bejasus out of them, and more importantly those with the real power who manage them and use them as totemic symbols of continuity.

Oh woe is us, the forces of union have drafted in the big guns early, a touch of premature obviation perhaps?

Roll on independence, where our governments, chosen by us, can use their energies, all of it, for the betterment of the people of Scotland, all of them, rather than on nonsense like propaganda.

Spinning the Spin Doctor

You’ve got to admire, well actually you don’t, the egregious brass-necked exaggeration of the British establishment’s premier newspaper north of the border, the longstanding and most definitely inappropriately named, for at least much of the last fifty years, ‘The Scotsman’, in the name of pushing forward their unionist-supporting agenda and propaganda.

On the day when an individual (clearly one amongst many of his kind who have an unclear understanding at times of what passes for the truth) who for so long was central to the day-to-day running of the government from another country which governs Scotland, (in fact there’s an argument that at one point he was in charge), appears before a committee of MPs and completely spills the beans on what is a clown shoe of a government, we are faced with a typical Hootsmon style headline….

…Scotsman scoop online article “Cummings makes explosive attacks against Sturgeon, Johnson on extraordinary day”.

Now, bearing in mind that even at this time, when at least half the population of Scotland are aware, or should be, that the stories this paper comes up with are heavily slanted against Scotland regaining self-determination, you would think ooft the former hate figure bad boy, turned whistle blower, must have had something pretty serious and juicy to say about the First Minister of Scotland’s handling of the more than a year-long so far Covid-19 crisis. This particularly so seeing as the headline puts her name up there before Boris Johnson, whom we all knew in-advance was going to be the main target of the disgruntled former spin doctor’s ire. Must be bad. Aye?

Naw. Under that sensational headline there is a whole article all about effectively what could be described as a Downing Street regime demonstrating themselves to be a worse effort at government than ever has been portrayed in the satirical fly-on-the –wall series “The Thick of It”.

This could have been construed as half way towards funny, if only, if only, this hadn’t happened during a world-wide pandemic. A pandemic where the witless characters involved in UK’s government were, and still are, in charge of making crucial decisions about people’s lives.

Cumming’s testimony, described in the article, effectively fills in the gaps and confirms exactly what most have been thinking, and writing about, whilst the nightmare unfolded over the past year and a half as 128,00 innocent souls in the UK (112,000 of whom in England) have lost their lives. 

Boris Johnson’s government has been, and is, dangerously incompetent, not fit for purpose, loaded with individuals who simply don’t have the intellectual capacity or ability to do their jobs properly or well, there by patronage or sookery (you just need to listen to Matt Hancock speak for a minute to see that) and this sorrowful episode in history must go down as a period when the worst government was in place for the worst of times. A complete disaster.

Nicola Sturgeon? Despite being the leading target in the article’s headline she gets two very brief mentions. Early in the piece Cummings (he) “accused Ms Sturgeon of undermining the four nations approach to the Covid response”. No context or clarification is offered with that statement. Then, after at length describing the gross incompetence on display in Downing Street at the time, the First Minister gets a further mention “he accused both Ms Sturgeon and the Prime Minister of hindering efforts to halt the spread of the virus”. This apparently Cummings feels is justifiable because “as soon as you had these meetings Nicola Sturgeon would just go straight out and announce what she wanted straight afterwards.”

Let’s examine all of this a wee bit further. In terms of what actually went on yesterday, in that committee room, the revelations, the statements and accusations made, stuff that can be taken as factually correct, correct that he said them, not necessarily that they are true (unless your tinfoil hat tells you that tells you that Cummings appearance was faked) how the Scotsman can possibly stretch all of that out and spin the story like the spiller of beans was dishing out wrath in comparatively equal terms on both the bumbler of Bullingdon and the First Minster of Scotland is well beyond even their usual British nationalist propaganda slant. The lead slogan on the Scotsman’s website heads up with the words “News you can trust since 1817”. Trust? Really?

I for one am entirely happy that the democratically elected First Minister of my country, who’s first and foremost thoughts 24/7 almost throughout this crisis have been for the safety and wellbeing of all of the peoples of Scotland, those who elected her, as well as though who didn’t, wasn’t keen on a four nation approach.

Can you imagine her on a conference call or in an actual meeting with this bunch of amateur half-witted poshly educated way-beyond-their-ability numpties, trying to come to some consensus on decisions which will impact whether other human beings may live or die? Can you picture that?

Cummings himself describes a scene where the bawheid in charge is running around like a headless chicken whilst some of his team of toadies, sycophants, climbers and wannabees are trying to decide if they’ll cave in to the wildly narcissistic dictatorial nutter in charge at the time across the Atlantic and bomb yet more middle eastern cities back into the middle ages, whilst some more of them are trying to work out how they are going to save themselves from the public wrath when the public discover they’ve made a complete and criminal mess of an emerging health disaster of global proportions, whilst a third lot, and the Prime Minister himself, are arguing over a story in the papers that’s ripping his latest burd’s knitting about her dug!

Four nations approach? I widnae trust any of them enough tae send them for a paper and the rolls. The First Minister of Scotland, in my view, did exactly the correct thing in blanking this mob off as soon as she could. It is such a shame that the powers that Scotland’s government throughout this last 18 months have been limited to those included in the devolved settlement. So much more could have been done if emergency powers over border control, and enhanced control over financial levers had been in place, instead of Scotland being at the whim of these wasters and chancers.

I jest in some of the above, but dear friends, you know as well as I do, even if only half of what Dominic Cummings says is true (the maestro of Brexit mind) these revelations are a further spur to all of us who are advocates of an independent Scotland, of whatever strand of that movement we are, that we must part company with the circus, and we must do it soon.

Rest in peace the 128,000 souls.

Intrepid adventures for Union

The reach of the small-man syndromic former Brittas (sic) Empire knows no bounds. 

It streeeches far and wide, even tae this day. The auld saying about its influence being so widespread that the sun never sets upon it, (or alternatively the sun never sets upon it because ye cannae trust the feckers in the dark) holds true even now.

How do I know this? I know this because yesterday, as part of their latest dastardly project, (tae wheel in the previously politically androgynous family of hereditary monarchy (Head office at the bottom of the Mall) on the side of Union to quell the savage ranks of wildly fanatical, ordinary, well-adjusted human beings who live north of the River Tweed who are demanding nothing other than for their country to be treated equally and fairly, like any other normal country in the 21st century) they sent two of these God-like specimens orf (yes I did write orf) to a ‘remote Scottish Archipelago”, according to all of the media who wrote about it, to open a hospital.

Imagine that eh? A “remote Scottish Archipelago.”

Conjures up all sorts of images that. Months in the travelling, running short of caviar and Waitrose quinoa, the wine cellar all but a quarter full, never sighting land for weeks, strange, previously unseen and undocumented whale-like creatures spotted breaking the surface of the fierce waves occasionally in the dawn light (that generated a quick satellite phone call from the ship’s captain to Priti Patel), eventually catching sight of land, getting closer and spotting movement. 

What is that? Is it a Komodo Dragon? What is this strange place, so remote from the world? It looks human, it is human, let’s see if we can communicate with it here on the beach. “Hello native, we come in peace, we are British. Do you have anything of value?”

The man, on the beach, dressed in an Adidas hoodie and cargo trousers, with a look of puzzlement on his face, made as if to communicate.

“Look” said the Deputy-Deputy -High-Heid-Yin of London, “it’s trying to say something”.

“Achh, watch and no’ sprett the erse o yer breeks climbing off that boat. Yeez’ll be for a dram?”……said the figure. Turns oot the remote Scottish archipelago was Orkney.

Next stop for our intrepid ambassadors of Union, a three week trek through a dangerous and withering tropical jungle, past the chippy, and the ash park, tae see the ancient, mystical and mysterious roondaboot circles of Cumbernauld, thought to be Mayan in origin. 

Oh please, roll on independence, the red, white and blue propaganda is getting worse.

Johnson’s latest cunning plan. Deploy the golden hat

It’s disappointing to see, and I’ll record right here I’m not a royalist in any shape or form. For me it’s an outdated hierarchical system from a bygone age best left in a bygone age. I’m naebodys subject, apart from mibbees ma wife and grandweans, but it’s still disappointing to see anyway.

What’s disappointing tae see? Watching the latest incarnations of the House of Sax Thingummybob and Golden Hats PLC, they’re like extended Doctor Who’s, if you don’t like this one there will be another along in about thirty years, different scarf (Wee Liz the First of Scotland being a bit of an exception to that rule) being hired oot cheaply by the shameful clown school in Downing Street to chat up the Jockos and head them off from all of this separatism lark.

Apparently they’ve even got the poor auld dear, who has earned a bit of peace and quiet at her age, and on a purely human level she has had a rough time of it lately, and deserves better, on tap for a bit of a return, on a repeat, of the Crathie Kirk Rap of 2014. 

We’ll be getting telt via keenly polished messaging tae “think very carefully about the future” to a grafted-on martial Hip Hop beat over and over again. Hopefully though they won’t force the auld darlin tae make purring noises at us (circa David Cameron’s phone call of 2014). That really would be beyond the joke. Leave the wee wummin in peace.

It’s a separate gig, parting with royalty, independence first and foremost, and all that. But you never know, each to their own, come the day some years hence, there may still be enough folk of that ilk around in Scotland, who in a democratic ballot wish to retain the monarchy. That’s how democracy works.  

For an institution that is supposed to be strictly neutral when it comes to the politics of the day the younger generations of “the Firm” may like to consider, for those that think that kind of thing important, that they have a responsibility to more than just whomever is incumbent in the chambers of the Palace of Westminster.

Neeburs

It’s always the lazy and entirely inaccurate response from anyone who has no clue, apart from what they read in right-wing focused newspapers, about the reasons why significantly more of the people of the country of Scotland wish to see their country governed by their own democratically elected representatives, and not by a government in another country. 

That response is we hate the English.

It gets brought up that often that the way my drink-addled brain works I almost automatically see and hear in my mind, in response, the scene in ‘Still Game’ when the local politician is talking pompous mince about something to the assembled Craiglang community and the group of wee local teenage neds are shouting “Naw ye didnae” at him. In this case the answer is clear and simple, “Naw we dinnae!”

Why should our desire to simply be a normal mature sovereign nation like everybody else mean that we must hate anybody?  

It’s our will, it’s our choice. That desire is nothing to do with England, the same as it’s nothing to do with Malta, Iceland, The Federated States of Micronesia, or Rufus T Firefly’s Freedonia for that matter. We don’t hate anybody.

We may strongly disagree with what successive governments based in England have done to our country’s people and their own. We may detest the self-entitled elitism that permeates the pillars of UK society. We may despise narrow-minded xenophobic exceptionalism and imperial nationalism, and all that that brings, but hating the people of another country just because they are from that country, aye right? Nothing could be further from the truth.

England geographically will always be our closest neeburs. We’ll still pop roond tae borrow a cup of sugar. Oor grannies will still be originally fae Yorkshire. Uncle Davie, who went south in the 80’s wae his great sense of humour and his fondness for the swally and the bookies, will still be your uncle. All of his daughters and sons, born in the south of England, whom you’ve made great memories with in the past, will still be your cousins. 

Your next door neighbour in your street, a new Scot, who moved here from London twenty years ago, who’s kids your daughter babysits for, whilst you and her go for a wee girls night out, will still be your pal, even though the government of the country of her birth no longer governs the country she chooses to live in. Yer pals fae Darlington whom you first met in Majorca more than fifteen years ago, whom you’ve been down to visit, and hosted around the highlands, friends who you’ve been on several foreign holidays with ever since, will still be giving you the nod for two weeks self-catering in the Algarve when the Covid’s been chased out of Dodge. 

We are all interconnected. We are the same. Our loved ones who live beyond Berwick will still be our loved ones. Doesn’t mean we want their government though.

We will be the best of neighbours, neighbours who can be counted on. If there’s a rammy we’ll be there to haud their coat, we’ll pay close attention tae ensure that it’s a square go, and if it isnae we’ll be the first ones tae jump in.

Having said that, as neighbours we’ll also be looking at setting an example about how tae play nice with others, we’ve a longstanding pedigree in that regard. We’ll strive to be seen as a force for good at home, and in the wider community of nations. A good guy, no’ a w—k. That is Scotland’s destination, our future decided by us, not anybody else. It is absolutely nothing about hate and division.

It annoys me therefore when I see in the media (and I know, to err is human) obvious mistakes, whether in jest or not, made by politicians purporting to be progressive and independence minded, making, frankly, stupid comments which feed this hate lie, allowing some shooty-in false credence to be attached to fallacious nonsense by the likes of Rossco Douglas, or the swathe of in-by-the-skin-of-their-teethy-teethy-teeth Scottish Tories, like Murdo Fraser or Annie Wells, as was demonstrated over the weekend by an SNP Cooncillor who will remain nameless, whilst commenting on the UK finishing up the Eurovision with the equivalent of the middle of a doughnut on the scoreboard. 

Don’t say or write these things, even as a joke. It only encourages them, and there’s always somebody somewhere who will believe them.

Don’t give them shooty-in’s. Please.

Playing with their train set

Ah I can see it now, the return of the halcyon days of yore that the Great British Railway system, which is the first in line of the rollback to greatness Britannic strategies to return to a glorious past that wasn’t at all glorious for 99% of the folk who existed there and then, and anyone from most any foreign country they came into contact with, will bring.

Yes, in some cavernous underground storage room filled with red tape in Whitehall a flunky has been sent scurrying to the back of the musty space to find the Beeching Report, dust it down a bit and hand it to the section head of a handpicked crack team of think tankers, (yes I repeat, tankers) who’s task it is is to write a report which reverses the railway cuts of the 1930’s, 40’s, 50’s and 60’s and regenerate a feeling of greatness in the promised land. 

This they will re-create all to the sound of tooting train horns and the almost visceral pleasure of inhaling steam engine smoke and the whiff of wholesome home-counties coo dung.

Oh yes, I can most definitely see it. Thousands of little Johnnys, once again, heading home from boarding school for the hols, eager for Nanny’s crumpets and jam, sharing carriages with village vicars, or the Meenister, stern  matronly spinsters in flowery hats, known for their charity work, men in military officer uniforms and moustaches, and business men in pin-striped suits and bowler hats, deep in the Times finance section. It’ll be great indeed.

Yes, says one of the the latest management consultants firms the Tories have employed to funnel public money into the private sector, ‘think of the opportunities this will create to get the plebs off their covid-caloried arses, away from Good Afternoon Britain and behind a shovel, clearing off, repairing or re-laying all of those neglected and near-forgotten railway lines to Greatstone-On Sea-Halt or Kirby Muxloe?’

Yes. Then there’s the painting of the new flag poles that each of these stations will require (particularly the ones in Jockoland where we’ll be putting up two flagpoles with the union flag up at either ends of each station). It’ll be National Service next, that’ll sort the blighters out.

Oh yes. On the public relations front, there will be so many marvellous chances too to have government ministers photographed in amongst all the busy progress required to return of the 1950’s. 

The early testing of the water on that type of strategy seems to have worked, Tory HQ are quite satisfied, having sent the Home Secretary, in in her nice bailiff style jacket, out on a raid with her heavies to capture an undesirable, with a view to removing him from our sceptred Isle. We have to admit it did take a few goes to get the photograph right, unfortunately meaning we had to keep taking the blighter back into his house and removing him again for the cameras. But by the fifth time of asking the Home Secretary had eventually stopped grinning, which gave us a much better photo.

What’s that you say, did we consult on these plans for the railways? Did we consult who? The Scottish Government? No, no, we work for the Great British Government old chap, no need for any of that nonsense.

Aye, right! Scotland can do so much better by being disconnected from this circus, and we will. 

Crystal balls

Is there anybody around still falls for all of that Project Fear nonsense? 

I assume there must be or our dear friends at Britannia propaganda PLC (registered places of business, Whitehall, Fleet Street and Pacific Quay) wouldn’t be doing it, but dear God, in fact “Mother of God” a lot of it is just so much abject drivel.

For example, the recent headline grabbing fluff from economist, Tony Mackay, in the Times (there are many economists alive, and postulating today, all of whom have their own unique viewpoint about the best way to run an economy, all of whom have their own specific predictions about how they see the future, none of whom have entirely the same viewpoint on anything, in fact the phrase It’s like herding cats really should have been about economists) spouting forth about an entirely hypothetical medium for exchange for goods and services, a new Scottish currency.

Oh woe is us, reckons the worthy Tony. ‘We’re doomed. doomed, I tell you!’ 

For, according to him, the entirely hypothetical, doesn’t exist yet, hasnae even been thought about, modelled, tested, crayoned onto paper, or even named (although I hope it will be called the Scottish pound because we had it first) will be at least a fifth less valuable as a currency than the English version. (For the very many of us who have every tried spending a Clydesdale Bank tenner in the south of England we could say it’s currently far less valuable than that).

Now, bear in mind that at the moment we are living in possibly the most volatile times for any economy since World War 2, or the financial crash of earlier this century, with economic performance forecasts swinging back and forwards like the bewildering brief thoughts in Boris Johnson’s concentration span, internal UK and external world market contributing factors butting in, and having an impact, on an almost daily basis. 

This is also in the middle of a pandemic, where the main levers of economic control and the responses to this grim health disaster are in the hands of a bunch of mainly posh morons in London, (after them managing to spectacularly engineer a humiliating and bitter tasting self-banishment from the biggest free-trading partnership on the planet, expressly without the consent of Scotland’s people).

So how in the name of Mary, Joseph, the wee baby Jesus, the fellas with the camels, and a boy named Sue, can an economist be so sure of that boldly negative statement? 

Yes, he’s basing it on post-Brexit performance, (not our fault, not of our doing, and when we are independent and warming up the currently empty seat in Brussels, not our problem) but how can he be so certain? Can he give me the lottery numbers for Saturday?

Give us five minutes and we’ll find another economist, with a different agenda, who will say the exact opposite.

Don’t fall for any of this guff folks. There is absolutely no reason at all that Scotland, rich in natural resources, innovation, assets and awash in the production of world recognisable branded exports in the food and drink sector should be anything but a success as a progressive independent country, no matter what currency we use.

Defiance

I, like a lot of us I suspect, amongst the many thousands of advocates for an independent Scotland, dislike the term ‘Proud Scot’. 

I dislike it because it is usually said as a precursor to the word “but’ followed by a statement from the proclaimer of proudness which demonstrates that in actual fact they are not very proud of Scotland at all, and wish to share with the world their concerns about how it is too wee, how we’re too stupid as a collective nation, and that without the glorious embrace of benevolence involved in the bestowing our own money upon us, like pocket money, of the Whitehall Treasury, we’d be perpetually wandering in the wilderness with the arse hanging out of our trousers.

However watching the story unfold yesterday of the events in Kenmure Street, on the south side of Glasgow, where Home Office heavies (immigration of course being a reserved to Westminster power) swooped in to do their dirty business, in the hope of lifting, incarcerating, and then removing from the UK two human beings whose only fault it seems was to seek sanctuary in the UK in the first place, were met by the immovable force of the community of Pollokshields and beyond, armed with nothing but a decidedly Scottish ‘remove our neighbours is it? We’ll just see about that then, wont we’ attitude. 

I felt the hair standing up on the back of my neck watching it.  I am so proud of every single one of the folk that were there, determined to ensure that members of their community, new Scots, were not detained and deported. 

Priti Patel’s wee pixies were indeed messing with the wrong people, and the result was somewhat inevitable. With a bit of good sense in terms of public safety from the local polis high-heid-yin and the assistance of Aamer Anwar, the Kenmure Street residents in question are back in their home, safe, humbly grateful to their neighbours, and able to fight another day, in the courts.

Oh that we could bottle that spirit, that courage, that sense of community, of doing the right thing in the face of all else.  This one successfully demonstrated act of disobedience is significant and opens up a whole range of possibilities for peaceful disruptive protest as we move forward.

Dear friends, this is the spirit of defiance we are going to need in spades for the coming challenge, the final steps towards our rightful independence. Let’s put internal discord behind us, it really serves no positive purpose towards the outcome we all crave.

Let’s rediscover the spirit of 2013-2014. Let the diversity of the Independence movement flourish, in a positive, inclusive and passionate way, with good humour and respect for the opinions of others, with maturity, and with the understanding, looking above the tree-line, that we all ultimately want the same thing.  If we can do that I can’t see that we can fail.

Just chuck it Gordon

We’re getting over the elections, kinda, sorta, and whilst we await the much mentioned programme of ‘love-bombing’ of Scotland by the wooly-headed Muppet of Downing Street, (I feel a wee dry boak coming on already) what passes for a quality newspaper in Scotland, the “Hootsmon’, is reporting that Gandalf-like, appearing on the scene for a first ever intervention for about at least the forty-fifth time since 2013, blowing smoke rings from a very long pipe, Gordy, the Wizard of Knob, is launching a campaign to rescue “middle Scotland’ from the clutches of nasty nationalism. 

This fella just refuses tae take a telling.

“Middle Scotland’? What exactly is that? Is it an area where loads of wee pointy-eared Scots wae ginger fur, enormous hairy feet, kilts and bonnets with silver tassles live in holes in the ground? Do they eat several times a day, having pre-lunches of tawties and mince, post-lunches of a haggis supper with a pickled onion, a Paris Bun for elevenses, and an enormous lunch slap in the middle of the day of steak pie, with the sausage through it, tinned peas and mash?

Clearly by following the bold pointy-hatted Gordy those little “Middle Scotlians’ will have many an adventure. 

They’ll definitely see weird looking rubber-faced creatures with outsized glasses, the impish Govians, chasing the dragon around the banks of the now lifeless Spewyjobbie river, which runs past the decrepit, but still dangerous, Palace of Greed, in the dank, dreary misty land of Anti-Altruism, but I don’t think they’ll see much else.

C’mon Gordon, face it, you are irrelevant in 2021 Scottish politics. Away and play wae your train set.

There is much to be done

There is much to be done. The Holyrood Elections have produced a democratic majority in favour of an independent Scotland on a scale never experienced before since our parliament was re-convened in 1999. 

No matter what your views are regarding the continuing party of Scottish government, or the Greens, or any attempted new entrant’s to the political field in Scotland, one assertion can be taken as binding. 

The mandate, the permission of the people of Scotland, is firmly in place, permitting, when the pandemic is over, the government of Scotland to further consider whether an independence referendum should take place. If, and when, an affirmative response is carried by a parliamentary majority, then an independence referendum will be called. 

This will occur whether a section 30 order provided by another country is granted or not, within the terms of this current parliament.

There can be no delay, there is no option to kick independence into the long grass, there are no means to procrastinate, or dither, the instruction is clear. 

Crucially, and this dear friends is the crux of the matter, should the Scottish government renege on this locked-in mandate many of even their strongest proponents would baulk and all credibility would be lost, which politically would be a disaster for the future of the SNP. 

That expected consequence of inaction going forward under a spotlight firmly directed onto every step they now take as a prospective transitional independent government of an independent country, particularly once we are clear of Covid-19, convinces me that we are now moving into the final incremental stages of our journey to the rightful return of a self-governing nation.

My view is clear, and simple, and has not changed over the many years that I have supported the cause of an independent Scotland, and the eight or nine years I have written in support of that cause, and it is this. 

The power and control established through long existing governance arrangements involving external countries, external factors, periphery noise, propaganda and the influence of parties representing the priorities of another country in ours, means absolutely nothing when it comes to the future governance of Scotland.

The sovereign will of the people of Scotland overrides into inconsequence any of these other factors. The only people who are entitled to provide permission to anybody on the subject of how our country should be governed in future are the people who live in Scotland themselves, not Westminster, not a government of a parliament of 650 seats, of which Scotland is entitled to 59, (until we withdraw) or anybody else. 

The established will of Scotland’s people will press the go button on the beginning of the transformation to the return of an independent state, it will see the end of the current arrangement of governance by law rather than by consent, and it will be the one and only factor in play.

That being the case, and in order to ensure that this happens, it is vital that the independence movement starts to refocus. 

For too long now, and understandably, (having been marched half way up the hill several times only to be marched back down again) some folk have become disillusioned, factions have developed, relationships have fractured, trust has been lost and much time and wasted energy has been spent arguing amongst ourselves.

In my limited wee blog readership, where I try to look at Scottish politics through a satirical prism, hoping to persuade by humour and exposing farce, there hasnae been much to laugh at recently watching Scottish political social media knocking lumps outs of one another. Some of the extreme comments,on both sides, have been mind-boggling.

What a waste. Imagine the impact all of that passion and resolve could have had if it was back focused in the right direction, at our unionist opponents, not at each other?

In order to achieve a majority for independence in the forthcoming referendum we still need to convince some of the folk who didn’t vote for an independence favouring party last Thursday, or who didn’t vote, that the future of Scotland is best served by governments formed by the people who live there. 

That is a simple fact, and cannot be disputed, and that is what we, all of us who advocate for an independent Scotland, must do. Can we please get back to that?

Shouting at those we are trying to persuade won’t do it, name calling, bullying and belittling them won’t do it either. Insults, ‘I know better than you’, and promoting conspiracy theories and extreme views that don’t belong in any form in the 21st century won’t do it.

My goodness we’ve enough material and evidence in our ken to be able to clearly lay out for anyone who is interested dozens of ways that independence can and will improve their lives, and the lives of their kids and grandkids, acres of text, video and sound recording we can provide them so that they can consider the facts themselves (the only legitimate way most people are convinced of anything) and come to their decision. Access to balance, evening up the waves of unionist-backed media negative propaganda. It is all there.

We’ve no time to fight amongst ourselves, Independence is too important for that. We’ve a convincing majority in a referendum to build, to settle this once and for all.