‘Forgive me’

I looked in on the first episode last night of a new fly-on-the-wall type comedy series which I think may have been created by Richard Curtis of ‘Blackadder’ fame and Armando Iannucci, the creator of ‘Malcom Tucker,’ who seem to have teamed up to create a political farce called ‘ Little Empire, running on empty.’

The show centres on an unlikely fictional Prime Minister of Britain, a slovenly individual, with the even more unlikely first name of ‘Boris’ who, for some bizarre reason, removes the UK from its membership of the European Union over an argument about straight bananas and people in rubber dinghies trying to escape countries who keep dropping bombs on them that they’ve purchased from the UK, hides in walk-in fridge freezers when he is asked difficult questions and hives off vast sums of public money to shell companies his pals created overnight to manufacture low quality, not fit for purpose protective equipment for exhausted medical professionals during a global pandemic. The last of which he managed via the proxy of an equally as unlikely character (a strange individual who has a tendency to invade the personal space of women, particularly in broom cupboards) who we’ve yet to meet in a flashback scene in one of the upcoming episodes, called ‘Hardknock.’

Last night’s first episode centred on the writer’s creation, an inept Prime Minister making a speech before the business leadership community, the CBI, which goes horribly wrong. The audience, and us viewers, cringed through our laughter as we imagined what it would be like if this ever happened for real, to a real Prime Minister, as the buffoon-like over the top leader, played by the up-and-coming character actor Ralph (Rafe) Smackhead (almost unrecognisable in an unruly blonde wig) completely lost the place in his speech notes, broke into the opening bars of Tracy Chapmans’ hit song ‘Forgive me, baby can I hold you tonight’ during an embarrassing minute long gap as he scrambled amongst his papers, ranted on a bit about Peppa Pig being his kind of girl, even though she looks like a hair drier, then he made vroom vroom noises like a car and eventually, by this time down on all fours, having painted his face and the arse of his trousers purple, cavorted about the stage, bounding around like an Amazonian tree frog. 

There was no sign of the use of a slick and expert US presidential campaign teleprompt here, nor even the slightest suggestion of a West Wing-like bold and challenging Aaron Sorkin-like speech establishing a doctrine for a new age. No, this show was pure farce, unbelievable farce, a Carry-On Politics for the 21^stcentury.

It was a spectacular opening to the series, which leaves you wondering what these talented writers can do next to top this? In a world of staid politics, where the leadership of the British Government are such a noble, principled and cerebral bunch, oozing with integrity, a sense of responsibility and intelligence, it’s quite refreshing to laugh at such fabricated farcical fiction…………oh wait!

Naturally corrupt

It’s like Billy Smart’s circus this, without the smarts and thankfully without the poor caged up animals being let out to be whipped and frightened into jumping through fiery hoops.

There’s a completely incompetent numpty wandering parts of the mainland UK making a total walloper of himself on every occasion, in very circumstance possible. If you’ve to wear a mask he won’t, if you’ve to at least look presentable, he’ll turn up looking like Worzel Gummidge, if it’s a somber occasion he’ll crack an inappropriate quip, if it involves making any kind of serious, and sometimes life threatening decision, he’ll make an arse of it. 

Incredibly, and almost miraculously, this gub shyte is the leader of the government of the United Kingdom, and nobody seems to care!

How did that happen? How did he get there? 

In a parliamentary system originally devised and built on corruption, a system which has thrived on graft and deception ever since, it was too easy. 

He ticks all of the boxes for an egotistical head boy. He strongly believes that laws don’t apply to him and therefore he will allow the existing systematic pochling  to continue mainly undisturbed. He is an individual who doesn’t actually see that stealing from the public purse, or taking advantage of power you have gained in trust to serve the public for your own personal gain is wrong. 

The corridors and chambers of the Westminster estate foster a well out of date political institution, not fit for purpose, which requires a hosing down every ten years or so to try and wash out as much of the worst self-serving troughers as it can. We’ve seen it now several times. 

This dolt of a man, is trying very hard to sweep under the carpet the huge abuses of power and influence which take place under the guise of having ‘second jobs’ and sailing close to the wind around the edges of parliamentary rules. 

Politicians of the day, lacking in a moral compass, seem quite content, when caught with their fat hand stuck in the jar, to agree that yes their actions may have been reprehensible, but they haven’t actually broken a rule so let’s move on. 

Johnson himself, when one of his old pals gets caught in the troughing spotlight prefers to try and change the rules rather than change the pal. What a disgrace. 

The man who considers almost everything that passes before him as frivolous and retains very little detail on any subject (according to him the recent globally significant climate change conference took place in Edinburgh, not Glasgow, where it actually was held) has no concept of conscience.

Then we have his local branch steward of the little empire project in Scotland, a fellow so fond of waving flags that he does it as an additional job (although he prefers not to tell the public how much he earns from it) Murray Ross of Douglas caught in the same net.

He’s sorry, he’s very sorry, he’s awfy sorry, awfy awfy sorry,. A big boy wearing a mask came and stole all of his records about the fees he’d received whilst pretending to be a VARS machine with the batteries removed at the side of a fitbaw pitch. 

It would appear that all of that record keeping, being above board, remaining within the bounds of codes of conduct protocols for elected politicians got a bit sidelined in recent seasons as his heightened salivation over the prospect of bringing doon the current First Minister of Scotland because she couldnae remember off-hand the date of a meeting increased. 

He’s his ain worst critic, he reckons, and can be very hard on himself, (I can think a couple of hundred thousand folk that would take issue with that).

It’s ok though, he’s referred himself to the relevant authorities, the parliamentary standards watchdog, who might appoint him to join them when they consider his misdemeanours, and then he can write the report back to himself giving himself a wee smack on the wrist with a feather. 

Independence surely will be an improvement on this sorry state of affairs. Can we start the ball rolling now please? 

Diverting attention

It seems that in terms of diversionary tactics, aimed at sending the media and the public off in all sorts of wild directions, away from the actual significant news of yet more Tory trough-slurping sleaze, or Prime Ministerial farce and embarrassment whilst under worldwide scrutiny, I thought we must be at least reaching the bottom of a very deep barrel armed with a very sharp surgical-like scraper. But no, it seems we are not. 

Apparently amongst others in the group, including, it has subsequently been revealed, some Tories, and notably a Labour MP, who was required to be carried out in a wheelchair (although to be fair there’s been talk of that perhaps being a medical issue) two MP’s, who happen to represent the Scottish National Party, David Linden and Drew Hendry, according to ‘grass’ Tory Defence Secretary Ben Wallace, got mad wae it on a trip to the bit of Spain that has Marks and Spencers in the shopping precinct, for Remembrance Day commemorations with some of the troops stationed there.

So, basically in transit two Scotsmen, with others, had a few drinks in the airport, and one or two on the plane on a night flight, led off the karaoke version of “if you like Pina Coladas” and then after kicking up some zzz’s and a fry up in the NAAFI  both of them looked fresh as a daisy, attentive, engaged and respectful in the official phoaties the next day during the events that they were there to attend. I don’t know about you but that’s what I’d expect mature human beings with normal drives, behaviours and a sense of respectfulness to be able to do. So much so that the First Minister of Scotland, under questioning about this story, has dismissed it out of hand and made a couple of suggestions to the baying media about some real stories of public interest that they should be focussing on. They had a few drinks whilst travelling, so what?

Contrast that with the bold yin, the chief numpty in charge of what passes for government now at  Westminster is breenging around the country, and indeed other parts of the world, breathing brandy and cigar fumes all over masked up medical staff and patients in hospitals, aged mines of information on the natural world, considered national treasures, and falling into line ups, literally, of political leaders, like a WC Fields comic drunk, because he can’t place one foot balanced correctly in front of the other to navigate a couple of steps up on to a stage.

An individual it would seem so fond of going on the lash that if the famous misogynistic story about his hero Winston Churchill, in his exchanges with socialist MP Bessie Braddock, was applied to him it would read, “When accused by Miss Braddock of being disgustingly drunk the Conservative Prime Minister responded “ My dear, you are ugly, and what’s more, you are disgustingly ugly, but tomorrow you will still be disgustingly ugly, but I shall still be drunk… burp!”

Then there’s his glove puppet (or is it the other way round, I can never make my mind up) the rubbery sleekit Gove, the man with the most Orwellian double-speak title that was every created “the Secretary of State for Levelling Up”. A title which I would imagine is difficult to live up to whilst being a member of a government by a party whose sole aim of existence is to make sure that never-ever-ever-ever will around 1% of the population feel financially or otherwise threatened by the rest of us.

Notoriously he’s on video not-too -long-ago in a state of complete blootered-ness whilst attending a vote in the Commons Chamber, staggering about and leaning on the Speaker’s podium in a kind of sliding swaying trance. There’s nothing like turning up for work fresh, alert and ready to do business, and that most definitely was nothing like that. In fact if the rest of us carried on like that in our places of work we’d be likely to huckled up the road to the purgatory of Lorraine Kelly TV.

Naw, there’s nothing to see, no stories worth investigating about government representatives with very lucrative second jobs, conflicts of interest or serious damning breaches of parliamentary conduct. Na, quick, look over there, a sabre tooth tiger!

Roll on an independent Scotland. Self-government is normal. Government with the focus being primarily about the citizens which that government serves being central to all of its policies is what we must aspire to.

Cringeworthy

It has started. The circus has come to town. Long in the preparation, short in the carbon footprint justification (surely in 2021 such an event, given its global importance, the global pandemic, and despite the technical challenges, could have been developed in such a way as to be held remotely?)

The hypocrisy is astonishing, as stacked up jets circle the sky over the Central Belt of Scotland, filled with delegates, and dozens of motorcades, (I read somewhere that old Joe Biden had 23 vehicles in his, not including the motor bikes or buses) clog up the roads around conference venues, engines ticking over as security details await their subjects returning to their vehicles.

Laughingly, the Saxe-Coburg-Gotha family, our very own top entry in the carbon polluting nightmares game, a group who individually and collectively can’t walk from here to there without getting on an exclusive flight, or a helicopter, an extended family and their hangers on who’s mainly inherited by accident of birth vast property portfolios lighting and heating bills (which of course you pay for) cast a huge shadow on reducing any kind of traditional fuel usage, without even the slightest hint of self-awareness, tell us we all need to muck in and cut back. Ok then Chaz, you go first.  

Yes COP26 is here, and Glasgow is currently under the control of the United Nations. (If only we could stay that way for a bit, until we revert to our rightful state of independence). Meanwhile Anas Sarwar, a BBC film crew, and a freelance hack are running round Glesga with a consignment of giant rubber rats the British  Labour sales-rep purchased at the Barras, precariously balancing them on heaped bin liners in crowd scenes behind anyone the media cares to interview on TV, about just about anything Scotland/Bad. Meanwhile it seems too that US news media giant CNN has somehow ended up setting up their coverage of Glasgow COP26 from Edinburgh, just a good stretch of the legs away from the SEC!

The First Minister of Scotland, an individual schooled in the ethos that being informed on a subject, and suitably prepared is key in any negotiations, is cringing at the antics of what passes for the government of the UK, as the Muppet Beetlejuice version of Winston Churchill, inspired by Tim Burton perhaps, blunders around the diplomatic stage, staggering late into photo calls, assuming Benny Hill-like body postures for the cameras, dropping off to sleep whilst those who know and care about the problem at hand speak, and then babbling inanely during interviews. Frankly, so far he’s only just stopping short of showing everybody his pee pee.

Entirely comfortable with lying, as usual, the comic totem of the reinvigorated little-empire project is doing what he does, winging it, and increasingly it is becoming more than just embarrassing. He doesn’t have the capacity for detail, he doesn’t care, it’s all a bit of a laugh. Pass the brandy someone.

In stark contrast Nicola Sturgeon, working the outer rooms, a leader of a country hosting an event she is not invited to, is both engaging and forthright in a round of media interviews, for domestic and international consumption. She’s welcomed several world leaders and international community insiders to Scotland over the last week or so, she has also strengthened previously forged links with those in the public eye who are seen as being in the vanguard of the climate crisis, those that are coming to the fore, and the highly respected real thinkers on the subject of nature and the environment,  like David Attenborough. These, dear friends, are the actions of a leader, a leader committed to helping to bring about positive change.

A leader who has the grit, stamina, determination and every intention of ensuring that Scotland is returned to its rightful state of sovereign independence, and takes up its place, as an equal, not as a superior or an inferior, to every other country in the world. A progressive 21^stcentury social democracy worthy of its own seat at the table the next time the circus visits a major city somewhere.