Mother of God, Joe the toon Jyner and the wee donkey’s tail. Would all of that ceremonial Opening of Parliament nonsense no’ just gie ye the dry boak?
There’s parents lying awake at night wae empty bellies wondering whether they should eat the next morning and spend aw day in the library just tae keep warm again during school hours so that they can afford to feed their weans an oot-ae-date pot noodle and a dry roll for their tea when they come in, there’s working folk queuing in ever longer queues at struggling to cope Foodbanks.
There are pensioners opening their energy bills and wondering if they should just end it all before they are totally engulfed in extorted debt in 2022 Brexit Britain.
Meanwhile a golden hat bejewelled in plundered precious stones from nations pillaged, stripped of assets and generally abused, gets a trip across the city on a nice wee pillow in the back of a Rolls Royce.
This whilst the aged son of the wee auld lady (no’ weel) who is the titular head of all of this outrageous showbiz nonsense gets a wee procession (like the Gala) through the Palace of Westminster by a load of auld geezers in froaks, and a wummin wae a big baton dressed like a man, (a heavy team who have firstly spent ten minutes hunting under carpets and behind the glittering priceless furniture for any stray mice or modern day Guy Fawkes’s, it’s tradition ye see) before he then settled his highly privileged behind on a golden throne. Man, did ye see the multicoloured laces in that mob’s shoes?
Next to the increasingly red-fizzered future monarch now sits the golden hat on its pillow (suitably refreshed after its hurl in a posh car) in the chamber of the undemocratic unelected Lords, the hat there to witness him, on behalf of his auld dear,reading aloud from a piece of paper the latest bile that passes for government policies of the Tory Party, amid the jangling sound of the chest full of medals and general priceless antique pieces of jewellery stitched, clasped and pinned tae his uniform.
My goodness and did he no’ look miserable doing it? His maw’s been on the throne that long noo that I think he’s lost the appetite for the almighty confidence trick which is royalty. He might at least have giggled at all of the ‘Levelling Up’ and building back better, rolling out and launching that they intend to do.
‘Levelling Up’, what a cracker that is. Total Orwellian double-speak championed by the sleekit Gove, who seemed to be on the glue whilst being interviewed on the telly yesterday, resorting tae using silly accents tae distract the viewers from the bilge he was talking.
Aye, ‘Levelling Up’ which in reality means using very possible tactic and dirty trick they can think of to furtherenrich themselves and their like and keep as many of the rest of us in penury and under the heel as they can.
C’mon Scotland. Is nobody going to shout “Look everybody the Emperor isnae wearing any claes!”
It is time to do what is required to break free of the shackles. Through a long-practiced process of subsummation they’ve taken us for mugs, drained from our country what they can and by smoke and mirrors convinced many to be acolytes to the cult of celebrity establishment elite. It is surely time for us to run away ‘from’ the circus.
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