The Hand that Bites

Red Stars, Magic Rocks and Machine Guns

2008-11-15T21:10:00.002Z

I’ve been to three markedly varied films recently, and felt compelled to review them.

Stone of Destiny – Charlie Cox plays Iain Hamilton QC in a light-hearted portrayal of Iain’s legendary escapade from the 1950s. It’s been unfairly derided by critics variously accusing it of being substandard or akin to Hamish McBeth.

All these reviews do is to fully represent how much self-loathing Scottish Journalism has. This is a point I’ll return to when I comment on Der Baader-Meinhof Komplex.

Historically, it’s reasonably accurate (i.e. pretty much in keeping with Hamilton’s book) so it avoids ticking the Braveheart box (where’s the river mel?) The acting is superb. Charlie Cox’s accent was so reasonable that I had to check t’internet that he wasn’t Scottish. Clearly the director focussed more on acting talent than being Scottish, which frankly was the right call. More importantly the direction didn’t get in the way of the plot.

So, a good film. Or it would have been had the pigs of McFleet Street got off their knees kissing London arse since… well the dawn of the union. I buy English quality newspapers. Why? Because I’d rather read propaganda straight from my oppressors than from the Edinburgh and Weegie based halfwits who kiss their arse all year.

Take the recent by-election in Glenrothes. Who is Alex Salmond? He’s a stand-up, good political leader not afraid to send himself up in a good cause: http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/scotland/7730724.stm Mind you, that doesn’t disguise the glee that accompanied the Glenrothes by-election win for Labour. Just as an aside on the Glenrothes By-election. What was it, in my opinion? The unilateral capitulation of a Scottish Working Class doped up on Big Brother, Corrie and X Factor desperate not to think for themselves. You were lied to, and you voted for the liars.

An issue which came up on several reviews was the fact that the team behind Stone of Destiny was partly Canadian. The motto here is that when you’ve run out of ways to make up a shit review, indulge typical British tacit racism. It’s as British as Sausages, Curry and politicians being handcuffed to chairs by prostitutes.

One gripe, though. In the first third of the movie a brief quick-capsule review is done of Scottish Nationalism in the 1950s. It’s a bit simplistic for me, and does detract somewhat. It seems to lack gravitas as a historical context. It’s a bit like the first read of the film the director had said: “Okay… blah blah blah Scottish Covenant, fails… blah blah… and cue Iain’s first scene!”

Still, from artistic point of view, Stone of Destiny is the kind of film we’ve been lacking. No, not pro-nationalist (it wasn’t, in my opinion), but a step away from imperial dogma and vainglorious costume dramas. It’s Scottish people, in a genuinely positive way. Iain Hamilton is portrayed as being a positive person; and not the usual Self-hating alcoholics or heroin addicts we normally get. Charlie Cox portrayed a genuine human being. Braveheart presented a stereotype. Don’t get me wrong, I liked Braveheart, I’m just not proud of liking it.

In this case, if I’m the only reviewer you’ve read (other than Joe Middleton on his http://politicalnewsfromscotland.blogspot.com blog) who has been positive about this film, then frankly I’m glad I think differently. I raised more than a few glasses to Iain Hamilton, Kay Matheson et al after watching this.

Quantum of Solace: Yep. The current Jimmy Bond rebranding. The premise in Casino Royale (the previous, and far superior film) was that the previous Bond films had never happened and they were going to start again. It worked. Casino Royale was a superb rebranding, taking its cue from the current crop of Spy thrillers: Bourne, 24, etc.

If you’re looking for a summary of Quantum of Solace: piece of shit.

Here’s why. Firstly, the previous director clearly had imagination the current one doesn’t. The acting was beneath dreadful, Daniel Craig and Mathieu Amalric aside. It’s fortunate for the director that this was the case, because they are the only two things in the damn film that are watchable.

Let’s start with the incomprehensible fight scenes. Clearly we’re all supposed to leave the cinema thinking that Bond has become as edgy as Matt Damon’s Jason Bourne or Keifer Sutherland’s Jack Bauer (notice the initials…) They don’t pull it off. It is less “Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon” and more “That Weird TV advert that no-one could understand but had Velvet Underground music in it… you know the one… dunno what it was advertising…”

The film trailer and TV spots would lead you to believe that this was a rampage of revenge for a pissed-off James Bond. No it’s not, lots of weird, badly choreographed fight scenes happen, for no reason, until Bond releases the baddie in the desert and fucks off home again.

And then there’s the McGuffin this film uses. What is the baddie after? Water. Woo hoo. Come to Scotland, hold out a bucket and wait. Don’t build an international conspiracy to force a dictator onto Bolivia and then expect an audience to believe that an underwater lake somehow justifies the previous two fucking hours to an audience.

This piece of shit made Braveheart look like an Ingmar Bergman quality movie. That disappointed me so much, because I really – re-he-ally – liked Casino Royale. And for the record, Daniel Craig (in the unlikely event you read this) you are SO much better than this. I saw you in Munich, and you were excellent. Most of your films are, Casino Royale included. You made the Bond on CR believable. This was artistic Seppuku. No, scratch that, it was little more than bukkake made on someone’s mobile telephone.

Der Baader-Meinhoff Komplex: This was a movie I stumbled upon while checking out Cineworld’s website to see when Yes Man (featuring Jim Carrey) is going to be released (December). Some internet checking later, and I’d already book my ticket.

This is Germany’s entry for the Oscars, and it’s a cracker.

It is, at its most basic, the foundation story of the Red Army Faction, a German Ultra-left wing Urban Guerilla group which exploded in the 1970s and rivals the Provisional IRA as the coolest terrorist group in Europe. Note tongue firmly in cheek.

I noticed a few historical parallels between what was presented as 1970s Germany and our current climate, as well as a few disparities. One was the fact that American Imperialism was busy bashing whichever country it liked and helping Israel batter Palestine. We’re busy battering Afghanistan and Iraq. The disparity I noticed was that America wasn’t any different, they were still a bunch of imperialist bastards, we just seem not to be willing / able (delete as appropriate) to counter them. In the 70s there were demonstrations a-plenty at American aggression. Now we’re all afraid to get arrested because we won’t keep up our mortgage repayments or because maybe the prison food is a bit high in carbs for our liking (delete, again, as appropriate).

There were a few parallels in the backstory. There’s a sequence which depicts a bomb attack on a Newspaper building, and prior to that a riot outside the same newspaper company because this firm, the protagonists argued, were responsible for the shooting of a comrade. The implication I am making here, is that the journalists in question, in the film, are Vichy-journalists. They present only the acceptable face of the state and are as much a tool of oppression as ID Cards, retaining trident and biometric databases are. Clearly, our press, are no different. MediaWatch as well as a Comrade of mine are given to giving the Hootsmon and the Herald far more plaudits than I ever will. Media barons are part of a ruling elite dedicated to keep the Scottish Working Class fully oppressed. You might as well buy the London Times or the Manchester Guardian and get your oppression first hand. THAT was why the media denigrated a good movie like Stone of Destiny got slated, not because its story wasn’t true, but precisely because it was.

Stone of Destiny, from what I can tell, had more promotion behind it in Scotland than Der Baader-Meinhof Komplex did. I’m a creature of habit, cinema-wise. I don’t buy pirate copies because I viscerally need the quality a cinema provides. So if I’m waiting to see a film, I go on the nearest Saturday to the release and the earliest performance. I did this for Stone of Destiny and Der Baader-Meinhof Komplex. Cineworld Renfrew Street, where I saw both films, had approximately FOUR times the amount of viewers for Baader-Meinhof than Stone of Destiny did. Even given the fact that Der Baader-Meinhof Komplex was a better film than Stone of Destiny, it shows up the public for being a bunch of ninety-minute nationalists. The turnout Stone of Destiny had was reprehensible for such a good film. Do people only visit films if people die? Did I miss a meeting somewhere?

Quantum of Solace and Der Baader-Meinhof Komplex are both still in cinemas. Stone of Destiny, you’ll probably have to await the DVD of that. If I know you, and find a pirate DVD in your collection of any of these, don’t expect to speak to me again. Not because of capitalism, but because of QUALITY. Anyway… my geekness aside…

Brit Wars...

2008-10-28T21:40:00.000Z

The Day that never comes

2008-09-29T19:25:00.003+01:00

So let’s discuss politics and entertainment. Now… I’m not talking about those home movies that Nicola Sturgeon presumably has of her trying out the first twenty pages of the pop-up Kama Sutra. Oh no. What I mean is how entertainment, specifically television and movies can make or break cultural stereotypes.

The West Wing was a seminal (which means it was well written, popular and probably not watched by people who watch Corrie and River Shitty) drama in which the final season included an upcoming election between a charismatic Republican (Arnold Vinick) versus an ethnic minority (Matthew Santos) Democratic candidate. The minority candidate, like Barack Obama, dislikes exploiting his ethnic heritage for electoral purposes. Like Obama, the character faces off against a more experienced candidate to win the fictional Democratic nomination. Whether it is life imitating art or a particularly savvy writing team which spotted this coming, the increasingly impending US Elections apparently have been played out across the television before even the parties over there thought about them. A series of fictional portrayals of non-white Presidents have made the idea of a non-WASP president not merely acceptable, but likely. Aside from Jimmy Smits fictional Latino candidate, the series 24 has given us not one, but two African American presidents in the guises of David Palmer and his brother Wayne Palmer. Cut to 2008 and the possibility of one is embraced by (at least presumably) the Democratic Party.

That was an example of a real-life situation being made subconsciously acceptable by an artistic product. Now don’t start getting worried that I’m channelling voices in my head, merely read what the Guardian had to say about it: http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2008/feb/21/barackobama.uselections2008

Three hundred years ago there wasn’t a Britain in the modern sense. There wasn’t. No… I know some of you will be brushing up your pedantry skills but trust me, there was Scotland, there was England. There was that whole issue of kingship for a good hundred years, and I think we’re all agreed that the Stewarts were a thoroughly bad idea. And once I get my time machine working I’m digging out my sniper rifle and going all Terminkenny on one or all of them. (n.b. I’m going to flag that as a “joke” before I get terse emails…) But Britain, as the modern “Yer British cos yer passport says so” is a fairly new phenomena. Before that we were Scottish.

C4 on Wednesday had a curious programme on about half-nine in the morning where the Archeologist in question postulated the curious argument that the Anglo-Saxons weren’t an invasion from Europe, merely a fashion change. “This season, all the cool English people will be wearing black and talking German…” is the phrase I imagine was used at some coronation in AD 500. As facile as my joke sounds, it pretty much reflects the depth of the Archeologists argument. All throughout it, those people weren’t Mercian or Anglian or English. They were British. It’s a strange oversight of hypocrisy from a profession which doesn’t much like the idea of Civilisations anymore and prefers to focus on the particular small area where they’re digging (i.e. such and such wasn’t greek, they were the city of Alexandria in wherever…) Naturally this could be merely a geographical reference, since technically the whole Island was Britain (Greater Britain being the larger of the two Islands and Lesser Britain being the unfortunate (and almost never used to their faces) description of Ireland the Island. But given the history between the then and the now, it seems curiously small minded to be so unspecific. I mean, one lot were speaking German and the other were painting their faces with blue woad and worshipping Eagles and Rocks. I’d expect something a bit more specific from a scientist. But then, fuck it, maybe David Icke was right about most scientists not being thinkers but repeaters of other peoples ideas.

But this suggests it’s just C4. But it’s ALL television. I’m not going all tribal and caveman, I LIKE the idea of diversity in the country. I’m far more comfortable with a salad bowl of ethnicity where I’m part Irish / part Scottish and someone else is Part Scottish / Part English or whatever mix happens to come up. Luvvies clearly love melting diversity into a rather curious hybrid cheesy mix that is debatable if it actually exists in the real world. You see, it’s not that it’s a bad idea. Yes, I did just say that. Britishness isn’t THAT bad an idea. The problem is that it exists in the same realm as Unicorns and pure Communism: it’s an unattainable idea in the real world.

Every time Johnathan Ross links a Scottish person with a deep-fried Mars Bar or every time Anne Robinson wants to ethnically cleanse the Welsh. Or anytime when comedy hero Frankie Boyle suggests that the Jeremy Kyle show gets it’s guests by trawling a net past Cash Converters in Glasgow. Anytime TV descends into that playground mentality: Britishness is destroyed. But it’s just a joke, isn’t it? Sure. If you believe that, then try using the “N” word in Harlem or Compton with a joke attached. Tell me how that works out for you.

I don’t even watch much British Television anymore. I caught Doctor Who, am watching X Factor, and watch Mock the Week but for the most part stick to American Staples: The Daily Show with Jon Stewart. Lost, 24, Battlestar Galactica, all the Star Trek franchises… you get the picture. I don’t need the messages UK television is sending. I don’t need to know how many Arabs we’re battering in Spooks, or how many Londoners are being scammed in Hustle, or whatever Received-pronunciation Caveman a brown-haired girl is being dressed up in Victoriana for. The fact they’re chucked us River Shitty and Taggart (which is a Whodunnit so complex that if you understand an episode you also will likely have a rudimentary understanding of the nature of Alienation in Marxist theory and how that then relates to the Means of Production whilst at the same time figuring out how we can reconcile Sub-Atomic particles with Gravity.)

Now… the fact that we get such a raw deal in entertainment I understand. It’s all about the complex nature of culture, diversity and how that’s reflected and influenced by our masters in Westminster. I get that. What I don’t get is why it doesn’t piss you off more! I mean Jesus X Christ, you get forcefed Mancunians for forty fucking years in Corrie, and the best they give you were those inbreds on Take the High Road and those Neds on River Shitty: AND YOU DON’T ASK FOR YOUR LICENSE FEE BACK!

Our television in beneath garbage. The Americans hire teams of writers to churn out 20 episodes per year of drama after drama and then sell it around the world. The BBC on the other hand gives us the complex drama of Little Britain, which if I understand it correctly is six half hour episodes of David Walliams giving Matt Lucas a blow job. Woo. Hoo.

But then a thought occurred to me… Maybe you get the television you deserve. I mean, three hundred years of servility where Scotland gets to abdicate any and all responsibility for ANY of her decisions is hardly likely to be the kind of place to ask for a fair deal in recompense, is it?

But there’s always a little chink of hope in any given situation, isn’t there… On the Scotsman and Herald newspapers they have comments functionality. And on a host of forums those news-stories are dissected and occasionally acted upon. Someone reports how Colin Fox wants a rainbow flag and the SSP offices are deluged with emails, letters, etcetera. Those people now have a name. And it’s a name associated with pissing people off. And that name is Cybernats. I love Cybernats. A Cybernats job, it appears to me, is to piss off people either the result of, or cause of, sloppy pro-British journalism. Cybernats have apparently caused the scalp of Iain McWhirter from being used on the BBC. Cybernats are thoroughly pissing off Political Editors up and down the country. And it’s a beautiful beautiful thing. Like the Corrs. (which is irrelevant, actually…)

And there isn’t just one little chink of light to suggest that you lot aren’t a servile as I’d otherwise think. Was out getting cash from a (surprise sur-fecking-prise) cash machine and noticed a curious sticker which said: Scottish Not British. That cheered my afternoon up no end. I mentioned it to a guy at work who pointed out that football forums were all talking about it and wondering where it came from. In case you’re wondering, no, I don’t know either (and I’m being unfortunately genuine in that… I’d kind of like some kenny.sheerin@gmail.com ).

I was at a wedding last week. And it was fun. REALLY fun. Not the kind of “I had fun at your wedding honest” kind of fun, but real genuine “I danced like a monkey for a room full of people” kind of fun. (and yes… I did being the only guy in a kilt). I was wearing my kilt on the grounds that my pal, one of the Brides, was wearing a trouser suit and at least one of us should wear a skirt to a wedding. At various times various people indulged in something curious. It was one of the ironic Mel Gibson “FRREEEEDDDOOOM!” quotes with the curious addition of “but no’ that Alex Salmond stuff that you’re intae…” Er… yeah. This caused me to question the whole nature of the “Don’t Knows” in Scottish Politics. See below.

People like me having been banging on about having a referendum on Independence. I say people “like” me, because I’m only 60% to 40% in favour of a referendum. And even then it’s basically to get it out the way so we can discuss other tactics. I don’t actually expect a yes vote. Not honestly. Typically, referendums have a sizable minority for independence around a third of the electorate. The pro-unionists are either just under that, or even going as low as being a quarter of the electorate depending on the news stories at the time. The rogue element is the “Don’t know”’s. And these are the ones I’m worried about. On the basis of being a Lanarkshire / Glasgow type I’d estimate the “don’t knows” are more Unionist than Pro-Indy.

If the day that never comes happens and we get a vote on Independence, it doesn’t mean the end of Independence if the vote comes in no. It just means a change of tactics. Trust me, I’m already planning for this day. If my plan doesn’t happen, then it just means we get Independence earlier than I expect. The odds are stacked against a no vote anyway. Getting an SNP administration in one thing, but translating that into a Yes to Independence vote is quite another. No newspaper will back a yes vote. No BBC programme will (we can take its impartiality and shove it up our collective arses). And just because a few celebs have implicitly cosied up to Alex Salmond does not mean they won’t stab every one us in the back at any given opportunity. You see, THIS is the reason why all of your cultural icons have been banging on about “Britishness” so much in film and on television. It’s an important and crucial issue. That’s why Spooks agents save BRITAIN from impending Islamic Doom; why Doctor Who (Scottish Actor / Estuary Accent “Sew-shallist Wurr-ker!”) saves the UK from hoards of Aliens (who for some reason represent our fear of technology). When Independence WASN’T on the agenda, it was okay for Doctor Who to have a Scottish Accent. This form of cultural stereotyping undermines your view of yourself. You aren’t Scottish. You are British. And in the eyes of the world your lack of resistance appears servile and accepting.

If you want to see the collision between entertainment and the tacit manipulation of culture then you need look no further than my (genuinely) favourite Englishman. He’s the kind of man I wished I’d gotten someone knocked up just so that I could get a DNA test LIVE on his TV Show. Read this and weep: http://www.guardian.co.uk/politics/2008/sep/07/labour.itv

As a culture, one thing has always perplexed me. And it links to how culture is portrayed through our entertainment which I’ve been talking about. As a culture, to me, this self-loathing we have for ourselves and how desperate we all were for Braveheart to be true when we knew deep down it was just Hollywood being Hollywood (“Where’s the River Mel?” – Ted Christopher). Why are we so guilt-ridden about our Culture? And it’s not ancient culture. Half a bottle of Whiskey later any mediaeval tribal band turns us all into Clanspeople again, just one more time. William Wallace has us screaming: “YE FUCKIN MISSED WAN WILLIAM!” We seem, as a culture, guilt-ridden about our Modern Scottishness. Part of it will be the fact that the traditional Scottish Acting Voice doesn’t translate well to the silver screen. The Scottish Stage voice is cringe-worthy at best. Normal Scots is fine, but actors don’t train in that I guess… But something deepseated is wrong with Scottish Culture. If you go back far enough we’re fine with our culture. I mean, fuck sake, everyone has been really cool with BBC Alba. Anyone that’s watched it, has apparently went: “Didnae unnerstaun a fuckin word but it looked braw soitdid!” Now… the fact I suggested it perplexed me should have suggested I don’t have the answer, so you’ll just have to work that one out for yourself.

In other news, I’m still writing 100 Crappy Reasons why the Union is fucked (working title… up to about 25 so far…) I’m listening to Metallica’s Death Magnetic as I write this and have been doing so EVERY time I’ve been online. And I actually bought it just so that Lars from Metallica made some money out of me. I mean… Albannach and Amy Macdonald were the only Albums I *actually* bought recently, so you can tell I’m a giving person…

Noir Glasgow Shots

2008-09-26T17:39:00.002+01:00

If you've been waiting for a post, then apologies. I've been busy Learning Russian. No... really. I'll merely post a few shots I've entitled "Noir Glasgow" just to be that extra bit pretentious ;-)

Don't Read This

2008-08-22T13:22:00.001+01:00

Was at Tesco’s today. Woah there Mr Rockstar (aye, I know what you were thinking)… I was getting some new work clothes (I know… sometimes it’s hard living a life that’s THIS interesting) and I passed by the T-shirt section. Now, any pro-indy types out there will know this is a regular occurrence. But basically, my eyes fell upon shoppie. Shoppie had that self-satisfied look upon her face as if she’d just given Michael Bolton the blow-job of his dreams. Shoppie was happily putting out a nambla of t-shirts (not sure on the collective noun on that one…) loosely along the lines of “Made in England – feed beer and sausages.” I didn’t stop to catch the specifics you understand. I was busy asking:

“Shoppie?”

“Uh-huh?”

“Do you stock that in Scottish?”

Shoppie laughs and continues hanging up the Made in England T-shirts, which I now notice have a copiously large St Georges Cross emblazoned across the entire torso.

“No… really?”

“Erm… no. Actually no. There isn’t even plans for it. Ach. It’s an English Company. So whit ye gonnae do? Its no’ like they’ll sell!”

She returned to putting the t-shirts up with the excited air of a Michael Bolton fan that’s just gotten tickets to night two on his tour. I took my purchases downstairs.

I was going to write a letter. But a) I’ve done that before and… well… frankly I’ve done that so much I want to start charging now, so. B) my ‘lack of specifics’ wouldn’t go down well with whomsoever I bothered to write to. “Hello you. I’d like to complain in vaguest possible terms about you selling a pro-England t-shirt in Cumbernauld without having a Scottish alternative. Yours, Miffed of Cumbernauld.” So I didn’t.

Re-reading that, it might seem anti-English. It’s not. I want a decent pro-Scottish t-shirt a Tesco. Still, you know your empire is fucked when you try to flog a t-shirt in Scotland that no-one wants (unless they’re both English-resident and suicidal enough to wear the damn thing). I actually wanted to buy one when I got home. ‘specially for the Donald Dewar statue. It seems to tick both ‘devilish’ and ‘reasonable’ boxes.

There is that moment in every great empire when (and usually this is only in history books) when you realise that your great empire isn’t quite as bullet-proof as you might’ve previously thought. Imagine yourself in Rome, with all the history of Julius and Augustus Ceasar, of the battles with Hannibal of Carthage and just how sexy Russell Crowe was in a leather mini-skirt. And then imagine you’re a Roman soldier outside Caligula’s bedroom when he’s not quite conventionally riding a horse. That he just married. And tried to declare Consul. Your empire isn’t going to seem quite so bullet proof then, is it?

Britain and America are currently (in my own opinion) metaphorically trying to declare their horses Consul with attitudes to Religion and Government. In America, (I’m referencing a recent series by Richard Dawkins about Charles Darwin for those of you who want to 4OD it) Richard Dawkins was making the point that including Creationism in the Education system was beyond belief as Evolution has scientific backing, whereas Creationism is something that’s more akin to what Gandalf does in Lord of the Rings. And therefore to base an education system upon that detracts from the value of the education because there is no evidence involve.

Before I continue, I should outline my views on Jesus. I appreciate the philosophy (I do). Treat your neighbour as you’d treat yourself. (for me that would be a big mistake. I’ll just be nice to them instead. I think I could arrested for suggesting a Friday-nite drink-fuelled and Chow Mein-fed internet search for lesbian pornography). But… back to Jesus. Be nice to your neighbour, I can entirely get on board with that. ‘The Meek shall inherit the earth’. If that’s in a kind of co-operative Marxist way then I’m on board with that as well. So… philosophically… I like Jesus. He’s got some nice things to say. I’m not sure when he said: “I want a fucking army to SACK ACRE Mr. Pope. GETINTAE THOSE RAGHEADBASTARDS!” The whole (then and now) Crusades bit (philosophically) seems a bit out of character to be supported by a pacifist. But he HAD been dead for a good thousand years before the Pope initially crusaded. So maybe they didn’t ask. In George Dubya’s case, I think Craig Ferguson said it best on his talk show when he said: “When you talk to God it’s called praying. When God talks to you, it’s called Schizophrenia.”

My problem with religion is the typical one. I don’t believe in magic. So when Jesus is being philosophical and nice. I can dig that. When he says his mother was a virgin, I’ll just tell him that I’ve been telt that by lassies before and as a rule I don’t believe it. Especially when you see tattoos of an Arrow with the words ‘this way to heaven’. Girls from Glasgow are like that. When Jesus claims to be the son of god with crazy mystical powers, that’s when I switch the video off and go to the shops.

So, American creationism, in its whole Jesus-worshipping bit, is all about the magic. So when I was watching some servile Jesus-freak from the nice bit of America saying how it’s open-minded to suggest the world is 10,000 years old and sorcerer-apprenticed into being; that’s when I realised that America is truly fucked. When you start basing your education system on magic, you can just smell the impending implosion.

But then… It’s not exactly just THEM. Is it? Every weekend, from now untiltheendoffuckingtime I think… Tens of thousands of people converge on Glasgow. None of them Scottish (apparently). Some are British. Some are Irish. Most sound like they’re from Glasgow to me… All in the name of some wee guy who just wanted people to be nice to each other. Oh, and his maw was a virgin and he was the son of god.

It’s this bloated act of mass self-wankery that convinces me that Scotland will never have an empire. Creationism is why America is destined to die (unless the Yellowstone Supervolcano gets it first). Both are prime examples of the increasingly dubious metaphor of ‘Caligula Declaring his horse Consul’.

Now, the reason why the Union is inevitably going to kark it is simple. There are omens of cultural and social stupidity, Shoppie’s ‘Made in England’ t-shirt aside. Amongst my top 100 reasons why the Union is fucked, my number 17 is: “Sun Page 3 Girls Talk about the News.” So. Let’s say Al Queda have bombed somewhere. Smeato, apparently, was unavailable to save the day and so it’s up to Lisa (19) from Suffock to comment in a nice handy box above her nekkidness. If it was a page 3 of, say, Stella Rimington I might understand (as well as being slightly perplexed as to why she’s doing Page 3 gigs now). Call me bigoted, but I’m not sure just how much a 19 year old Razzle wannabe is going to contribute to the debate. Maybe it’s just me.

If you’ve bothered reading the post this far, if I get seven comments or more I’ll actually post up my Top 100 reasons why the Union is fucked in a blog post. Otherwise I won’t bother.

Dark Knight Review

2008-08-14T16:00:00.000+01:00

Christopher Nolan’s vision of the iconic Comicbook Hero is almost as mesmerising as Heath Ledgers performance as the grungy Clown Prince of Crime, the Joker. I realise that it’s fashionable to make references to the “Emperor’s New Batcape” but that’s… that’s… just wrong in so many ways.

This production gives Batman / Bruce Wayne added layers to deal with, utilising Wayne’s desire to use a character as an avatar to save Gotham from itself, whilst dumbing his own true self down so as not to give the game away.

Truthfully, Batman Begins wasted the opportunity of bringing to the big screen the Scarecrow, one of my personal favourite characters from the Comics; but Dark Knight doesn’t waste the Joker, turning Jack Nicolson’s signature portrayal of ~~Jack Nicolson~~ The Joker in Batman (1989) into a creepy, sardonic, homicidal social pioneer in Ledger’s performance. Small piece of trivia, according to Popbitch, Heath Ledger had a notebook of things he thought that the Joker would find funny. Top of the list? Aids.

Typically, Hollywood (all of it) gets fuzzy when it comes to stuff like the “laws of physics” and DK is no different. The grappling hook which shoots up to the top of buildings and / or into concrete? Impossible under current technology. But that’s just me being a geek about Hollywood physics.

The reason why so many people have flocked to see Dark Knight is because the ideas behind it have more venom. Batman isn’t a hero, he’s “whatever Gotham needs me to be”. Which is incredibly admirable by Hollywood standards. Normally the main protagonist just shoots the bad guy (eventually) and shags whichever blonde / brunette / redhead he happens upon that episodes. DK is more complicated than that.

What’s interesting, is that so many of our big heroes aren’t heroes, but Anti-heroes and almost Byronic Heroes in some ways. Take yourself back to Braveheart, or read Nigel Tranter’s The Wallace to witness some genuine antiheroic moments. No, I’m not comparing Batman to the Wallace, I’m suggesting that we don’t believe in heroes any more, not in the classic sense. Let’s quote some anonymous bod on Wikipedia: “The brooding vigilante or ‘noble criminal’ archetype seen in characters like Batman is slowly becoming part of the popular conception of heroic valor rather than being characteristics that are deemed un-heroic.”

And this is one of the flaws in the movie. By the end, I was not so much “rooting” for Commissionaire Gordon (played flawlessly by Gary Oldman) but wanting the Joker as Heath Ledger’s zombie corpse to reanimate for Batman 3 so he could swedge Jim Gordon a few more times… But let’s not let my lack of moral compass sway you. (I called Batman a cunt under my breath when I thought he was about to let the Joker fall from a building).

And it was at that very moment, (well, in the bus home afterwards if I’m being honest) that I started thinking about Tommy Sheridan and Alan McCoombes. Not that I want to see either of THEM in a Bat-cape (what Tommy gets up to Casa Sheridano…) No, I started thinking about public perception of Sheridan after his famous scandal. The working classes, in my experience, didn’t give a rat’s ass about what Tommy did. He could’ve had fourteen activists dressed as cheerleaders, snorted cocaine and gotten home back in time to do another anti-war rally and people wouldn’t have bothered. Alan McCoombes famously (apparently) told TS: “People will forgive what you’ve done, but they won’t forgive you lying to them.” (approx).

If you segue from that to the falling levels of voting at election, and the growing public disaffection with modern politics it’s curious when you think about the concurrent rise in obsession with celebrity culture. I’m a morally bankrupt 30 something now, but back when I was 14, I was a clean living, Jesus-worshipping, god-fearing attendee at church. Back then, my 14 year old self would’ve looked at Hello, the Sun, the News of the World and saw a litany of depravity. Now we all gleefully flick past Amy Winehouse’s addictions, Britney’s revolving-door panties and demand vigilante justice be inflicted upon… well just about whoever is collectively pissing us all off that week.

I forced myself to watch Ricky Lake today. I did so, after seeing that the show was about congratulating this girl (whose name I can’t spell) who worked all the hours she could to both get into college and to get money for her family. Ricky was going to congratulate her with a visit from her favourite band, Salt ‘n’ Pepa. I clicked past, probably muttered: “Oh… crap.” I switched over to E Entertainment and was about to watch Denise Richards in something (she looks like a pretty version of my ex-fiancee – three / four years ago, long story). Considering the Ricky Lake girls inspiring story, I felt suitably guilt-ridden enough to force myself to watch the one and only episode of Ricky Lake I’ve ever seen. Motto of this digression: occasionally one has to recognise and act upon one’s own moral depravity.

Politicians are probably slightly less interesting than they were ‘back in the day’, especially in the mainstream parties, but how do you square Celebrity Infatuation with falling interest in politics? Has society become so entrenched in its post-modernist angst that Politics is just too big to consider thinking about? Or is it just that the modern world has forced our moral and social compass to change so drastically that modern politicians haven’t caught up with the rest of society yet? Celebrity culture is often criticised, yet (and the independence movement is no exception) but people seeking it and eager to witness it through the media are still the majority. Modernity has made us a nation of hypocrites. We’re eager to tell the world just WHY Pete Doherty should remain in jail and be kneecapped for his crimes, but give people a chance to vote for it… then there’s a problem. Suddenly interest falls to an all time low. When Jamie Hoggan was arrested, it didn’t exactly cause outrage at the Independence movement, but curiosity about it, and gave rise to the odd “Free Jamie Hoggan” on whatever marches I was on that year…

We are a culture now, where I can take a news story about Maggie Thatcher being given a state funeral, and guarantee attendance at my long planned “Rave on the Grave” Soiree in Glasgow City Centre whenever the hell it happens. Yes… I can officially mock the nearly-dead with impunity. People don’t believe in God anymore, like Nietzsche proclaimed: “God is Dead” and we are the damned children of Rolling Stone magazine, addicted to the addictions of celebrities and with no interest in politics. Some of our brothers and sisters, at least.

I think we need to accept that the world we live in is different, and strategise accordingly. We needn’t restrain ourselves to merely getting out there and trying to get votes for independence. We can think darker thoughts and whilst a liberal minority will no doubt be uber-critical, it’ll do its job and get our political beliefs recognition from a people hyped-up on controversy. Fathers 4 Justice did it reasonably effectively. The ex-millies have been doing it well for years, and did it SO well they united the left in Scotland, for a brief and beautiful instant (only for it to be washed away like the first flurry of snow by the November rain).

If the “Dark Knight” movie has resonated with so many people, as it patently has done, it’s because it has exposed just how much change society’s moral compass has changed since the 1950s, when we all started rebelling against the hangover from the hypocrisy that Victoriana, in my opinion. In addition, I think society is taking a collective breather from politics after being subjected to the 1970s and 1980s. When you lose count of the amount of acronyms you use for terrorist groups agitating for political change, and you have a myriad of groups across Europe eulogising and evangelising either change or continuation of the norm, then people are going to tire. But either way, whilst we need to see the past to see ourselves, we must occasionally look at the present to see just how different things have become. I don’t believe we are in the same politics as we were back in the 1992 general election. I think we’re now smack in the middle of Scottish Politics 2.0 and need to think about things differently if we are to prosper as activists in the current climate.

Siol nan Gaidheal Forum

2008-08-14T08:55:00.003+01:00

For those of you interested, there is a new URL for the Siol nan Gaidheal Forum, as well as the website itself.

Website: http://www.siol-nan-gaidheal.org
Forum: http://www.siol-nan-gaidheal.org/phpBB3

Bonnybridge, UFOs and Phobias

2008-08-11T21:21:00.004+01:00

Okay… So I had intended on posting more frequently than I have done in the past week or so. This is mostly the fault of Bonnybridge UFOs. I had intended on doing a bit of research about the subject for a post on here. I even created a special folder where I would save links to all the articles. And I expected to have too many to work with.

Well I guess that was my first mistake. There was a lot “casebook UFOlogy” with articles of about two hundred words with the odd “locals report” and other assorted vagueness. Not that that’s not without its entertainment value. I mean… there’s a lot of hicks around the world going: “Yeah man, there’s aliens over there…” without actually bothering to supply proof.

There was so little content that I was thinking (seriously) about putting on my V: The Mini Series Reptile Mask and uploading a youtube feature as follows:

“Greetings Puny Humans! I am Stragputh from the Garleg Federation and I come to bring you hate from the Garlegites. YOU SHALL ALL PERISH unless you cede us the town of Bonnybridge as a breeding ground for our hatchlings! Commit or you shall all pay! Mwahahahahahahah.” Etc.

Now, since I’ve obviously decided to post on this anyway, without a great deal of research (not my fault, that’s the internet and it’s obsession with having a porn rate of 69%) and not enough serious articles.

There are three possibilities regarding Aliens flying over Scotland.

It isn’t aliens. It’s people being stupid. And not just your banal ordinary stupid, but dog-chasing-a-car-from-the-front stupid. They’re tries-to-use-icecream-as-a-lubricant dumb.
It IS aliens, and they’re here to invade
It IS aliens, and they’re here in the name of science

Point three scares me more than the rest, because the others I can get my head around. But if aliens are using Bonnybridge as a scientific study then I want to be on the next space-shuttle to complain to the Galactic Council. Mind you, it could be worse. They could choose Airdrie and concur that: “Sire, all humans are around five foot tall, communicate through their noses and based on a recent translation of their clothes are apparently called the ‘La Coste’ people and celebrated seeing our craft with outbreaks of xenophobia and in-breeding.”

I was also thinking, after seeing Bebo cluttered with people being scared of being abducted by aliens, that perhaps they’re not the crazy ones. Go with me on this. Compare their phobia with mine: Arachnophobia versus Alien Abduction fear (Duchuvnophobia?)

All you need for life is a Sun, and the universe has plenty of them; Water, which is just Hydrogen and Oxygen, and there’s plenty of that; and a rock close enough for it to be ‘just right’, and there’s more than enough debris scattered. So yeah, chances are there’s a planet with life. Maybe it could build Stargate-like spaceships, and maybe they get their kicks from abducting blonde girls. I know I do… Oh shit…

Now… my phobia, which is to prefer to chuck books across the room at spiders rather than actually touch them, makes less sense.

Let’s say that there’s a spider in my bathroom. My brain turns on its fear response. What my brain has assumed is that there is an undiscovered type of spider in the Amazonian Rainforest which is so deadly it can kill painfully and within the time it would take me to run to the phone (shrieking with pain as I did so, obviously). My brain has then assumed that this super-poisonous spider (which, by the way, bears a striking resemblance to a money spider) has made the colossal leap from Rainforest tree to a piece of driftwood on the Amazonian driftwood where it survived on a diet of grubs until it reached the ocean. Whilst this deadly spider wielding piece of driftwood, I also have to assume the spider has access to enough grubs until it washes up onto a beach on the Bahamas, washed along by the general tides and such. It decides not to munch on the middle-class Edinburgh people getting married on the beach (because that would just be mean) and instead heads for the nearest Banana Plantation. There, whilst munching on the bottom part of a banana, it is wrenched from the tree, put into a box and then flown and driven thousands of miles until it reaches Tesco Cumbernauld. From here, it escapes, loose, into the wild until it finds my flat. Now, I live on the top floor, so I’m not sure whether it used the stairs or the lift. I’m guessing that it used the stairs for two reasons: one, I don’t think “Hola Senor, floor seeex pleeease” coming from a tiny spider is ENTIRELY plausible; and secondly, there isn’t actually a lift service where I live. Just stairs. Miguel the Spider then crawls through the letter box and takes up residence in my bathroom, eventually to be confronted by myself.

I can usually console my abject cowardice with Spiders with the conclusion: “Oh well, at least I’m not scared of being abducted by Aliens.” Bugger. At least my phobia has an actual phobia name: Anoraknophobia. Or something. I’ve checked t’internet and can’t find one for Alien Abduction.

Back to Bonnybridge, though. I’ve heard from a few people that I know *in* the area. Well, one, actually. That there’s now rumours of big cat sightings in ra ‘Bridge. A large, Black, Cat-like creature has apparently been stalking the night and (presumably) scaring the population. I absolutely, positively, am not supposed to mention this because they’re still a bit cringe-worthy after being given the title of “UFO Capital of Scotland, damn it the whole UK, och dammit of ALL THE EU!” I’m not making this up; someone DID tell me about big cat sightings. Apparently they haven’t been reported because locals still have a collective-cringe about GMTV turning up to probe the rumours. And honestly, who’d force Fiona Phillips on their worst enemy? I bet that when the black Panther (or whatever it is) has cornered its first human victim, I’ll bet ALL the money I have that THAT person wishes at that very moment, that they’ll be abducted by aliens… Now go and tell Alanis Morrisette THAT’s what Irony is.

G.O.D. Part One

2008-08-10T21:01:00.002+01:00

Something to keep you occupied whilst "The forum" is down...

Blur into images of State Coercion

2008-08-03T22:33:00.005+01:00

I know I prefer to leave it a few paragraphs before I deviate from the topic @ hand but the most requested search which brings people to this blog is Freddie Windsor. If you are one of those people, please fuck off. Thank you. (yes… in this blog there’s swearing).

A few months ago I was at Bonnymuir for a Rally, and afterwards I nearly quit what I’ll lazily title ‘the movement’ for one simple reason: I was one of the youngest there. I’m nearly thirty five fucking years old and I was feeling too young. Fortunately Bannockburn, Falkirk and yesterday, Robroyston refreshed my memory that it’s not the case. It’s just SNP historical groups that tend to verge slightly from the general demographic of the country. Oh look, I was deliberately obtuse…

But first, what prompted this blog. Yesterday, George from the Tartan Army spoke at Robroyston, and his theme was Scottish History and how to raise its profile and all manner of cool things. Donald of the SRSM quite liked an idea I had about a “History Night” where we’d discuss two or three history topics. It’s standard, it’s a decent idea… but it’s a bit conventional. I’ll get it done, and I DID come up with it, but I had a couple of other things that I would’ve preferred to do. Email me if you wanna know more about the history night. (I feel the need to say that… but all I get email-wise is Viagra adverts.)

I’ve had two ideas for making history (in particular hidden history) more interesting and edgy to get new blood involved. I’m going to break the 4^th wall of the first of my ideas (which thus means it can’t work as a simple Google search kills the idea stone dead). The first thing you need to do is to read this article:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Poe_Toaster

During August and September we have a litany of Wallace-related events, and they all follow the same format: March, speeches, drinks, camping (for some: not me, god no…) then home. So I read that Wikipedia reference to ‘The Poe Toaster’ and started thinking about a visit that Jolly took about ten of us on to Cambuskenneth Abbey, where he (I think…) told us about the Wallace Stone and how, possibly, William Wallace’s arm was buried under it. That story was so damned good I didn’t care whether it was true or not. Not after I read the Poe Toaster reference, anyway.

For me, people love a mystery. Give them something unexplained, and people want to explain it. So, I came up with the idea of having a hooded ‘Wallace Watcher’ figure visit the Wallace Stone in Cambuskenneth Abbey once a year and inventing a backstory going back about two or three years and possibly further… Factor in some really grainy camera phone footage of him placing a thistle and half-drunk bottle of Whisky on the Wallace Stone and you have an internet hoax.

The principle is using the power of the Internet and Viral marketing in such a way as to give Scottish History a fresh edge. Sky did this for Season 6 of 24 where if you texted a certain number, you’d have to log onto an internet site and negotiate a series of vague clues to help Jack Bauer otherwise he’d die…

So, for example, with my Wallace Watcher idea, when it’s initially sprung onto an unsuspecting public, you have two or three blogs set up which have a story arc people can follow. If you’re cynical, I don’t blame you. But it works if done right. It can even work when you have no basic plan to work to… For proof of this read “Join Me” by Danny Wallace or go here: http://www.join-me.co.uk

This story arc does two things: the lead people to particular sites of interest and organisations of interest. It promotes the Wallace Stone, it promotes Cambuskenneth Abbey, it promotes the execution of the Wallace and what subsequently happened to him and in the backstory behind it, those curious enough to follow the trail of the story and the blogs find themselves at, say, the Walk for Wallace website, on the Siol nan Gaidheal website, or on the Wallace Society website or whomever gets promoted by it.

It promotes history to its targets, an unsuspecting public, and it draws them into a story they can be a part of. During it you’re seeding them with relevant historical knowledge, but in an interesting way and it hasn’t been done before. And all you girls DO love the thrill of a chase, don’t you?

But it can’t be done now, can it? I broke the first law of hoaxing and talked about it. But the point is thinking about things differently. This is about utilising different ideas.

The other idea I had, I already tried and didn’t give it the commitment it deserved because I was finishing off my Rock X novel (which you can still buy, by the way…) and it lost momentum due to a couple of things. That idea was the Nine of Diamonds Project.

I’ve written about this before, but the Nine of Diamonds Projects was, if I had played it right, a rip-off of the Australia-based Neurocam Project. I wrote about it here: http://kennysheerin.blogspot.com/2007/08/neurocam-and-scotland.html But the intention was to use it as a machine gun for Scottish History so that various subversive histories could be manoeuvred into the mainstream by various high-jinks. One idea I had was to get a shop dummy, dress it up in a Guantanamo Bay orange jumpsuit (complete with black stencilling on it just in case those seeing the resulting photo weren’t too sure), put it outside the Scottish Parliament Front Doors with a large sign around it’s neck which read “1820 – 19 of the first residents” on it. The hooded figures who dumped it there wouldn’t be caught on CCTV cos they’d be hooded and someone would drive them off into the early morning and the resulting photo would be circulated everywhere as an enigmatic gesture, complete with a nine of diamonds card jutting out the top pocket.

At one point I drafted (using legislation I knew of) Eviction notices to be tied to the gates of Holyrood Palace (where the Queen lives in Scotland). I can’t mind what I did with that…

Or one idea that comes up time and time again, but which ends up falling through because of money and resources: the Digital Projector Hijack. Basically this involves getting a digital projector and some high profile night-time location and the press. What you do is arrange a series of images to be transferred from a laptop (have) and digital projector (don’t have and can’t afford) and project it onto the walls of said building which the press then photographs, your anonymity preserved. FHM magazine got worldwide press from Projecting an image of Gail Porter, nekkid, onto the walls of the Scottish Parliament. Imagine a reporter from the press being invited, on the anniversary of the Battle of Stirling Bridge with an image of Andrew de Moray will captions like: “I was here as well” “What the hell is a Union Jack doing on a Scottish Castle?” as well as the odd soundbite here and there projected onto the walls of Stirling Castle on the night of Sept 11? I reckon the press would LOVE that image. Personally I’d like to project the image of a penis onto the house of Matt O’Connor from fathers 4 justice with the words: “Anti-Scottish Dick”… (but we’ll call that a work-in-progress).

I tend to think about things a bit differently, and those were a couple of ideas I thought I’d throw out there for your perusal. Basically if we want to promote Scottish History, we don’t have to just rely upon established methods which tend to preach to the converted. With enough effort we can take these out to the public.

By the way: does anyone know where I can get a shop dummy?

Faceless Sense of Void

2008-07-31T20:36:00.005+01:00

Free Gary McKinnon.

Today, numerous newspapers reported on how Glasgow-born Gary McKinnon is to be extradited to the United States to faces charges on Computer Hacking which could result in a 70 year jail sentence because he used his talents to try and find evidence on UFOs on USA military computers.

It would be churlish of me to argue that being a half-wit isn’t a crime, but that ignores the spirit of rules where sometimes motive isn’t a requirement of guilt. Take the TUC policy on workforce bullying: in this definition, the person conducting the bullying campaign need not ‘intentionally’ be bullying the victim. Only the behaviour concerned counts. This is why that particular TUC policy is ignored by most, if not all, Local Government Authorities.

More pertinently, however, is the argument from the Herald that American Prosecutors have never had to provide evidence of Mr McKinnon’s guilt, and therefore this is in breach of his human rights.

This is a curious area where the fundamental political theory regarding a Liberal Democracy goes against the individual human rights of a citizen. What I’m referring to in “political theory” is the principle of John Locke that any Nation has the right to protect its borders using military force. From the USA perspective, he brought down a bunch of US Army Computers, breached the security of NASA… all on a Quest the country’s entertainment industry vaunted and validated through the TV series the X-Files. This, obviously, is in direct conflict with his human rights as the USA has not submitted proof of guilt.

According to the Sun: “McKinnon, originally from Milton, Glasgow, also allegedly disabled a naval weapons station for a week.” In my opinion, if he’s that damned good, don’t charge the fucker, HIRE HIM. Everyone has a price, especially those people who claim they don’t. That sounds cynical and blunt, but it’s true. And this brings up an interesting point, if he WAS so damned good, and if he committed all the unspeakable computer acts associated with him, then how come we ended up hearing about it? If *I* were in MI5, I’d have called the Americans and gone: “Look, we know the guy’s a nugget, but we’ll hook him up with GCHQ and make him pay penance on some anti-western Al Queda websites… He got into yours, the odd PHP3 board won’t be too difficult to break…”

Nah, this is far more simple than all that. Some nut with a predilection for the X-Files got himself caught, and the authorities thought: “Oh ho… now we have a lamb to sacrifice and make all those hackers think twice before they fuck with us!” And the unfortunate thing is, it’ll probably work.

Your super-soaraway-Sun has the answer. According to a poll in today’s newspaper (31-07-08) between 8 and 16% of people think Stonehenge, the Pyramids and Crop Circles are proof of alien life. Why is this proof? Because if you feed a population the same tired lie time after time, time after time, for long enough it becomes the truth.

This same poll argued that 42% of the population believed that Alien Life in our Solar System either “Definitely” or “Maybe” existed. If this poll means ‘Algae’ or ‘Bacteria’ then the answer could well be yes. Europa is a moon of Jupiter, and there is evidence of a watery interior being kept warm (or at the very least liquid) by the Gravitational Pull of that groovy failed star, Jupiter…

But I’ve this horrible feeling that most people are thinking about Greys, X-files, Stargate and Spaceships when they answered that question. THIS was the very question which apparently spurred on Gary McKinnon. Answer me this, does he deserve 70 years in the darkest American hole they can dig because of this?

For me, though, this isn’t entirely the USA’s fault, though. Somewhere along the line political correctness became corrupt and meant that asking simple questions became a crime. Somewhere, we molly-coddled ourselves so much that anything less than being pampered was unthinkable. We put up CCTV cameras to combat crime, and in the same instance neutered our crime fighters and rehabilitation institutions so that the prisoners didn’t have it too bad. If some Ned knives someone because they were bored, and end up caught on CCTV then I’m going to be a little pissed off if the end result is them playing Nintendo and learning how to nick cars from the other lags. I know this sounds right-wing, and I’m not, but being nice to killers plainly isn’t working.

But that’s not what computer hacking did… All that did was to cause a bit of embarrassment to the Americans and give them an excuse to threaten the world of computer hacking with a very Old Testament threat if they breached their databases. But that’s okay… Because our system means that you can happily abuse children, kill your neighbour, rape his wife and bitch-slap as many Salvation Army weirdoes who turn up at your door all you like, because you get less time in Prison!

[irony]All those crappy routines you learned to pull that girl of your dreams? Pointless. Rape her, get a few years in jail, play some Nintendo for that ‘10’ you like… it’ll be worth it… But touch an American Computer or breach whichever war we’re in this month…. Christ no… You’ll end up tortured or in Jail for the rest of your life![/irony]

Raus Raus Scotland! Arbecht Macht Frei! Heil! Heil!

I will write you the inscription on the gates of your freedom in Italian:

Per me si va ne la città dolente,
per me si va ne l'etterno dolore,
per me si va tra la perduta gente.
Giustizia mosse il mio alto fattore:
fecemi la divina podestate,
la somma sapienza e 'l primo amore.
Dinanzi a me non fuor cose create
se non etterne, e io etterno duro.
Lasciate ogne speranza, voi ch'intratex

Glasgow East By-Election Autopsy

2008-07-26T19:30:00.003+01:00

When you wish upon a star, occasionally your dreams can come true. Equally likely is that it’s a giant fuck-off meteorite destined to wipe all human beings from the planet as it did to the dinosaurs. I made two predictions: one, that the SNP would lose (in spite of the fact I was supporting them) and two, that Solidarity would out-perform the SSP. To gauge my utter wrongness, you have to invent mathematics that go SO far into the negative numbers that mathematicians haven’t even explored those realms yet. Therefore, since my predictions were so hideous, I would like to predict that I’m not having sex this month. Not with anyone else, and certainly not with Beyonce from Destiny’s Child. Hey… if I’m on a ‘being wrong with predictions’ streak, I should at least try and work it into a positive…

Still, my utter shambolic performance in imperfect art of precognition is proof (if any were needed) of there being no such thing as future-sight. So the next time your read Katie the psychic in The Sun (or as I like to think of it “that concentration camp for your brain whose only meagre contribution to world history, culture and politics is what Keeley thinks of the headline they’ve thought up that day”) rip out the page and wipe your ass with it. Or if you’re a guy, use your right hand, and Katie’s face for something useful for once.

But, back to the East Weege By-election. Someone (Raymond) pointed out to me that if the SSP and Solidarity HADN’T split, and therefore if you added both their votes together, they would’ve outpolled the Liberal Democrats. A salient point, and a thought I’ll leave incomplete for obvious reasons. I will, however, quote Yoda, from Star Wars: “Fear is the path of the dark side. Fear leads to anger, anger leads to hate, hate leads to suffering.”

Yes, I DID just quote Stars War in relation to the nastiest split in Scottish Politics in the past five years. The big question is ‘Does this represent a feeling for Independence in Glasgow, and Scotland as a whole?’ I don’t think it matters if it represents Independence or not. I believe someone who believes in the Union is not going to vote for the SNP, but that’s a separate thing. What the by-election does is to publicly demonstrate dissatisfaction with the present Westminster regime and demonstrates a public genuinely wanting change. In Scotland, the only force who can viably get that is the SNP. And this bloody nose was broadcast all around the world.

http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/photo/2008/07/25/PH2008072501367.html

http://www.lemonde.fr/archives/article/2008/07/25/nouvelle-defaite-pour-le-labour-de-gordon-brown_1076984_0.html

http://www.news.com.au/heraldsun/story/0,,24076095-5012749,00.html

And that was me checking only three out of the continents of the world. That’s a lot of people that just received an advertisement for the SNP, as sponsored by the voters of Glasgow East. For me, that’s the biggest thing, to see ourselves as others see us, and that’s as political activists on the world stage. This was the reason that the SRSM was so pissed off at the SSP during the G8 protests at Gleneagles. Then, they traded a chance to push Independence on a World Stage for every forgettable trendy slogan they had. And NOT independence. Maybe Tommy was too busy eating out an activist to attend THAT fucking meeting. We aren’t activists in our own backyards anymore, and we just highlighted Scottish Independence WORLDWIDE. Maybe if we’d done that a couple of years back it might’ve made a difference. If you don’t believe me, check the clustrmap that survived my recent purge. See the worldwide activity. That’s a lot of people around the world. And this is just one crappy blog. This win was witnessed Worldwide. Let me restate that for effect: YOUR WIN, YOUR VOTES, and YOUR ACTIVISM WAS WITNESSED THROUGHOUT THE WORLD. And every activist should be proud of that.

But more than that, there were those of us (and I’ll hold my hand up to this one) who needed hope for the hopeless. Some of us jaded cynics were expected the “Ma granda votit wan way so ah wull tae…” mentality. Most of the doe-eyed newbies amongst us refused not to believe. And they were right! For once…

I think also some people feel a wee bit guilty about just being able to provide financial support. Whilst the main thing which won the election was troops on the ground, those leaflets didn’t buy themselves and those lamp-post boards didn’t pay for themselves, so I think those people who gave donations have reason to feel proud.

God… this is turning into another congratu-circle and I swore I wouldn’t involve myself in that kind of thing anymore… Still, a worldwide win is a big thing, so I’m reckoning it’s exempt.

Shut up. I already know that’s double standards…

Anyhoo, I think my only regret is that currently, we don’t have an imposing Goliath figure. We don’t have a Malcolm X or Nelson Mandela, much less a Che Guevara… Most of the brightest sparks are men in grey suits with glasses from Specsavers. It’s a minor gripe, I know. It’s just that I think that somewhere in the woodwork, at this part on our path on the road to Independence, somewhere lurking in the Shadows there is lurking someone who will write their name in Scotland’s history for the rest of time, waiting to make their mark on history with their contribution to Scottish Independence. Ever thought that the person might be YOU? No, this isn’t me talking to myself, but YOU the person reading this blog. Ever wonder if YOU were the thing which this movement was lacking?

Glasgow East By-Election

2008-07-24T20:51:00.004+01:00

[sarcasm]First up... a minor irritation. If I have to look at this binty for much longer I'm going to start sending letter bombs to the internet company concerned...[/sarcasm]

I've been out campaigning twice during this election. First time was leafleting in Cranhill. I'm not about to put on my anorak for this, by the way. For the best political anorakyness in the McBlogosphere visit Macnumpty (as one of his comments duly points out, he's a political anorak par excellence, and on this occasion I'm not about to argue, merely reference the props concerned).

But... Cranhill. To me it looked like Saigon before Stanley Kubrick and Robin Williams turned up with two sets of cameras for their respective movies. Working class areas with these levels of quiet desperation seem to retain a semblance of dignity lost in Wimpey Homes or in Barrett Communities. And the one good thing about this by-election isn't the fact that it's giving the minority parties the exposure they lack the rest of the time when Newsnight ISN'T interested in either Solidarity or the SSP, but the fact that no-one can ignore the poverty in the East End. Aye, the main politicians are paying mere lip service to it, and aye, a vote for either Tricia McLeish or Frances Curran would make every voter in the East End a bona fide working class hero for decades to come, but it ain't gonnae happen. If you live in the world of political reality that circumstance has forced ME to live in, that means it's a straight two-horse SNP versus Labour. The backdrop is poverty. The inopportune resignation of David Marshall has provided a media opportunity for poverty akin to the murderous spree of Jack the Ripper in London's poverty-soaked Whitechapel, where there was more desperation than blood on the streets.

Interestingly, one unmentioned fact that you WON'T read in the newspapers, is that the HKF's (Hairy Knee'd Fundamentalists) have been out for the SNP. Yes, we are barred from Party membership; yes Alex and Nicola have to pretend not to notice the more obvious republican socialists and ultranationalists who are out saying: vote SNP... But we did and that's not about to change.

Speaking from a Republican Socialist point of view, one comrade asked why we (i.e. the SRSM) were seeking a vote for the SNP? Wasn't that like asking people to vote for the SDLP rather than Sinn Fein? One, neither the SSP or Solidarity have an armed wing (ceasefire or not...) and the SNP does NOT equate to the SDLP. Coming from an Irish Family I know how easy the transition from SDLP to New Labour actually is. It doesn't bear thinking about, frankly.

Being out campaigning for the SSP or Solidarity rather than the SNP would've been easier had it not been for the split. When Sheridangate happened, this was a deal-breaker for Republicans like myself. It was a return to 1980s-style "57 Varieties of British Socialism". We are NOT interested in that waste of resources. Unite, and we'll think about it. Split and the deal's broken. Once that deal was broken, the priority returned to getting Independence THEN Socialism. We can't get a Socialist Republic via Whitehall Supremacy. The civil rights of the Scottish People are far too much in danger to tolerate London-centric romantic nonsense.

Trendy left-wingers parachuted in from London like to slag off Whisky, short-bread tins, Jacobites, Covananters, Braveheart, etc and then proceed to try and tell ME how a London Based Socialist Solution is possible. It's like talking to creationists sometimes. "Jeez man... You don't believe in a London Socialist agenda? Man... you'll be telling me you believe in Evolution next..." And yes... we all know both Solidarity and the SSP have a pro-Independence policy, but without a UNITED FRONT, they could be singing Kum-by-ya for all it matters. And it doesn't matter whose fault it was, any more. It just matters that neither in the short-term can get a vote in Glasgow. Long-term I favour Solidarity over the SSP, to be honest. As soon as I read Solidarities missives on Tommygate, I knew it didn't matter whether he was guilty or innocent. This'll serve Solidarity well in the long-term. But for THIS election, the SNP was the only way to go.

Another night of campaigning, another River Island shirt road-tested. A pal of mine, though, went in full Siol t-shirt mode. Naturally this was the one night Alex Salmond was in the estate we were working. At one point, one of Alex's haircuts didn't notice the Siol logo and asked him if he wanted to speak to Alex... He flashed the SNP envelopes we were carrying and went about his business. This was in an ex-Council housing estate I hadn't bothered to ask for the name of. Inside my head I referred to it as Easternam or Carngon.

Oh... hold on. I seem to have waited until half an hour before election night was finished before posting this... Uh-oh. This means the Brits or the SNP can't use it against the campaign! What WAS I thinking! Oh well... What happened in Easternam, stays in Easternam.

In terms of the SSP and Solidarity, I would make the argument that this is a test of public support, as small as it is. It'll be interesting to see which party wins out. My eyes will be glued to THAT result, in particular (after Labour versus the SNP, obviously). I'll make a bold prediction and suggest the Judean People's Front will outdo the People's Front of Judea. I know... I didn't think I'd commit to an answer either... But take your jaw off the floor, I did...

Okay... Okay... I'll commit. I expect Solidarity to do better than the SSP. Yes, I think the SSP have the Moral highground, I just don't think the Scottish People CARE about that. I think Tommy has too much spin and too much political savvy behind him to lose out.

As for the SNP versus Labour, I'm expecting a slim Labour win. This is based upon my Airdrie and Shotts hypothesis. I convinced myself that Labour would lose Airdrie and Shotts at the General Election. A Labour agent said to me: "Karen Whitefield is convinced she'll win Airdrie and Shotts because of the strength of the Shotts Vote." As galling as it was, she was right. They did. Airdrie voted according to it believing it would lose Monklands Hospital A & E (and it retained it accordingly) but the Shotts votes were insurmountable. Maybe the SNP campaign was spread too thin then, maybe the Glasgow Fair issue will play into SNP hands... But it's a big IF. It's a REALLY big IF.

Over the weekend, I'll post my own personal post-mortem of the Glasgow East By-election.

The Siol Forum...

2008-07-23T21:50:00.001+01:00

In case yer wondering where the Siol Forum is...

Rare Colour Picture....

2008-07-23T21:14:00.006+01:00

"It's just a ride and we can change it any time we want. It's only a choice. No effort, no work, no job, no savings and money, a choice, right now, between fear and love. The eyes of fear want you to put bigger locks on your door, buy guns, close yourself off. The eyes of love instead see all of us as one." Bill Hicks

You may have noticed this blog's policy on pictures (any colour so long as it's black and white...) I'm breaching this policy for a rare Bannockburn picture. Make of it what you will...

If you're thinking about a song right now, I've attached the relevant video...

Falkirk or Paradise?

2008-07-20T17:17:00.005+01:00

Despite just how downbeat I sounded in this previous post, I made sure I turned up at yesterday’s Falkirk Commemoration dressed in gunslinger black (sans T-shirt courtesy of a fabric softener accident). And I enjoyed every minute.

This incarnation of Falkirk started last year when the ‘Back of the Bannockburn March’ Association collaborated to build a cairn dedicated to the First Battle of Falkirk. There was a Rally then, and we repeated it this year. And it’s turned out to be a really good one.

Incidentally, the reason so many fundamentalist organisations seem as if they’re on the same page is because of two curious theories I have: firstly, that the SNP have a position on Bannockburn and Elderslie marches: “We don’t care whit ye’ve fallin’ oot o’er this year, git tae ra back and dinnae frighten ra tourists.” Afterward all us unkempt fundamentalists started asking: “Hi, I’m fae the SRSM, you’re fae Siol ye say? Ah, and you’re Na Fir Dileas…” Secondly, we usually trip up over each other trying to cultivate the same members.

Yesterday’s rally had a few nice touches aside from the speeches to mark (oh crap… he’s being positive… there must be something he feels he has to pay for…) this event out. Symbology. I *heart* symbology. I *pinkie heart* symbology. My dream is an event that’s got no talking, just something symbolic and mysterious. I even have an idea, but back to Falkirk: Raising the Standard by some dignatory, and my personal favourite where the Templar’s appear to use a Claymore as a cross. I’ve decided to ignore Jesus’s pacifist pretentions and assume they’re being ironic. See… still positive. Even just slamming the sword into the ground for the duration would’ve been enough for me.

And yet MORE positivity: David R Ross, Biker and Historian, did a speech which seems to be him back on form. He’s a staple and consequently he cannae get away with the same joke twice. The Siol speaker, Bob, was particularly passionate, and Gordon Aitken (speaker and sword bearer) had a diverse edge that people definitely appreciated. I thought they represented everyone and were informative and passionate. The mix was great, especially that bit where the public were being either nice or just going about their business. You get the impression at Bannockburn and (on a smaller scale) Glencoe that the locals are sharpening their pitchforks in anticipation of the event. But yesterday was Falkirk and they seemed glad that it was the first time this year that someone marched somewhere and no-one gave a fuck about Ireland.

OMG Kenny… That sounds awfully nice. You’re being really positive… Have you had sex or something? That streak finally been broken? Nope. Lets discuss the Templars. My comedy position on Templars is that Capes should be reserved for sexual games and American Superheroes. I understand, some people are Christians. I respect that. I don’t expect them to worship the Aten like me. I don’t expect them to worship the River or Rocks… But if we want to bring Jesus into our rallies or events, why choose the comedy ones?

You see here’s what happened. Here’s why I’m being honest. A couple of years ago a wee guy called Michel Roger LaFosse turned up. Some of us (myself included) thought: “That guy’s a lying bastard!” but we shut up in a spirit of diplomacy. This turned out to be a huge mistake. And then her majesty’s finest investigated just how much of a lying bastard he actually was, and now he lives in Belgium. So… rather than being diplomatic, I thought I’d try honesty for a bit. Seems to work for some of you people, may as well give it a bash…

You see my problem with Templarism is that it was all made up after romantic people who read ‘Holy Blood: Holy Grail’ by Michael Baigent, Richard Leigh, and Henry Lincoln couldn’t see that the only purpose of that book was to feed the authors’ bank account, Pierre Plantard’s ego. All it did was to give the French Surrealist Movement a reason to laugh l’ass feckin off for YEARS. If you want my opinion: Templarism is fiction in a very Tolkien sense. Back in the day a bunch of these weirdo cults started up, bought some capes and declared that they were part of an unbroken line of Templars from when they escaped France.

For me, it is exactly the same thing as mediumship, Anton La Vey’s Satanism and the Moonies: personal doctrine dressed up as dogma with an extra coating of ritual.

Factor in the “Holy Grail” and it has turned into a cross between Indiana Jones and Lord of the Rings. If there’s a democratic vote and everyone likes it and wants them to turn up, hey, fine. But in the spirit of freedom of speech I had to get that off my chest. For me, if you want to pay respect to Wallace’s religious beliefs then we shouldn’t be asking Templars, but asking the local religious groups (Catholic and Protestant) to conduct some kind of joint ceremony to show religious solidarity between differing positions. I think using an opportunity to highlight the ties that bind rather than fantasy history is an important point.

Mind you, chances are both Jesus and the Wallace, should their zombie corpses reanimate and perplex the world by their reappearance, would probably not like me being too lippy about the men in capes. People worship God in their own ways, and who am I to criticise? Make up your own damn mind.

In other news, Elderslie is being held. It’s run by the Wallace Society, and is a usually a great event.

The Clenched Fist Salute

2008-07-14T21:21:00.004+01:00

Since I’ve adopted a “no more Mr. Nice Guy” approach, I have a request. It’s a congratu-circle of whoever is reading. Repeat after me: fuck Queen and Country…. fuck Queen and Country…. fuck Queen and Country…. Feel better? Good.

If there was a soundtrack to this blog post it would be either “Dance of the Knights” by Prokofiev or “Killing Moon” by Echo and the Bunnymen. You’ll need a musical soundtrack because there’s a few things we need to talk about.

First, you need to be a little less scared of demanding power back from the Brits. I mean this; you’re being just a bit nice. Political correctness has gone NUTS in this country. We’ve all learned to deal with every single one of our feelings except anger. Our country has gone to shit and we, apparently, don’t know what to do about it. Actually, that’s not entirely true. *I* know what to do about it, but apparently you don’t. Thus the explanation for the “reason for talkage” I hinted at earlier.

I know WHY you’re being reticent, I do. Thirty years since all that liberal hippy crap during the sixties have meant you’re not au fait anymore with being honest with your brothers and sisters. If you see a crying wean in the street, you don’t dry their tears, you cross the road so you don’t end up on some ‘register’ the government has invented that week. And maybe, aye, you’re a bit wary of feminist rights and what you can and can’t do. But here’s the problem: you sacrificed a lot of stuff on the altar of political correctness at the expense of honesty and THAT is not a good thing. You’ve turned into Bronwyn from Neighbours. You ARE that tartan shortbread tin. You’ve become the Plaid you wear. And that’s not who you are… It cannae be…

Stop being scared of you who are, and what you want. Tell the bastards in Whitehall that you WANT YOUR FUCKING COUNTRY BACK! Tell them that you are sick and tired of feral kids, high on drugs, policing the streets so that yer ain cannae get out to play like you did. Tell them that you don’t give a monkey’s testicle that the Auld Firm are playing that Saturday and no, whether you are a Catholic, Protestant, Atheist, Buddist, Jedi, Scientologist or Voodoo worshipper this WILL NOT IMPACT ON YOUR CHOICE OF FOOTBALL TEAM!

And I know that the voting form is about a foot long, and possibly has every weirdo loser on the planet under it, but there must be someone to vote for on it. Alyson (friend of mine) and I have had this conversation where she refuses to vote, because there is no-one to vote for. Hmm. None of the NINETEEN candidates at the last election floated her boat. Not one melted her butter (one of my bloggerinos just recognised that I nicked their expression… and yes I still want to talk… Email me…) I find it hard to believe that in the authentically boring Liberal Democracy we currently live in, so many normal human beings have such unapproachably high standards regarding their elected officials. Are they saying; “Well, yes I agree with John Mason on just about everything, but ma Da votit Labour aw his life, and that policy yon SNP huv on Abortion… that’s wan step too far inmaopinion.” I replied to this ‘real world’ scenario by pointing out: “Er… the SNP don’t HOLD the opinion you inferred. You are ‘officially’ talking crap.” “Aye. But they WOULD… WOULDN’T THEY?!?” I informed the person concerned of their upgrade (on my list) to Moron Status, and fortunately we haven’t spoken again. I just cleansed my social circle in one walk away. I feel better now…

Let’s think for a second about what we HAVE done and what we CAN achieve through militancy. This, of course, is if we regarded electioneering (see you in Glasgow East, by the way…) as one front, and ‘other’ methods as being addition operations for the sake of persuading the government of other things.

Activists like you opposed Nuclear Dumping in Glen Etive and brought the hell of Gruinard to the public imagination through Operation Dark Harvest. You changed Scotland for the better, once. You gave your successors a better country. Well done you! With Glen Etive you successfully opposed Nuclear Dumping in that area. With Operation Dark Harvest ‘the man’ had polluted an Island of Scotland, and then decided not to give a crap about the consequences. YOU made them give a crap about the consequences. Read what TIME magazine had to say about that: http://www.time.com/time/magazine/article/0,9171,922652,00.html

It’s because of stories like the one I previously mentioned that I’m getting slightly tired of stubbing cigarettes on the gravelands of dead Jacobites. I’ve done most commemorations at one time or another. I don’t HAVE to earn stripes for commemorations; I probably helped make the bloody stripes. We need to get out there and organise something, somewhere, somewhen. Something that will get us just that bit closer to a free Scotland, and I don’t even care if you’re a Jacobite or Republican reading this. For all I care you’re a faction within the ‘Pink Hippo Free Scotland Alliance’ and want to fill an Independent Scotland with Sanctuaries for Pink Hippos. If you’re a Jacobite or Republican just DO SOMETHING. Plot to either overthrow or install a monarch. Just GET SOMETHING DONE!

Now, Iain Hamilton QC had a blog. And it was good. He posted effectively and intelligently. This was, of course, until one day when he decided to stop posting. His explanation for this was bullshit. He did not, as I am usually wanting to demand of my heroes, to speak from the fucking heart. He stopped blogging because “independence is inevitable”. Och… Come on Iain… But he WAS one of my heroes. Show me and everyone else SOME respect with comments like that. If he found that he’d done what he’d intended to do and found that he didn’t have the time anymore, just tell me! I’m an adult, I can cope with normality! I’ve been doing it for years! Don’t molly-coddle me like I’m some kind of special-needs project that can’t think for myself! Show me a little respect! What Iain did was to ‘leave a job hauf done!’ He got bored, came up with a crappy excuse for stopping and expected the rest of us just to accept this waste of text. No. No. No. It’s not good enough, he NEEDS to do better. If that means a better excuse, then fine. If that means the Daily Retard doesn’t have a decent story, then fuck them. I want MY heroes to SPEAK FROM THE HEART. On the basis of his worthless reason for ending his blog I’ve decide to suspend his ‘hero’ status on this blog for one month. For one month, he will no longer be a “hero” but will be downgraded one notch to “you fucker!”

I feel the need to make two predictions: one, the SNP will lose Glasgow East but increase their vote-share sufficiently to endanger Gordon Brown’s job. Two, the SNP’s flagship Local Income Tax is doomed to failure.

On Glasgow East, I should say that the reason for the failure will purely be because of the strength of the Labour Vote. There are morons out there who will vote Labour just because granddad John votit Labour way back when. It’s not even a thinking process. Bear in mind, this is a cadre of people who worship Celtic and Rangers thoughtlessly. As far as I’m concerned, they’ve bowed at the altar of capitalist sponsorship. They might as well be saying: “Stagecoach ROCKS!” “Go Coca Cola!” or “Fuck Coca Cola, PEPSI IS THE BEST!” Glasgow Celtic aren’t a bunch of fenian bastards, they’re a BRAND NAME! There are stocks and shares you can buy… YOU CAN INVEST IN CELTIC. Trust me, if you can invest in your favourite thing, it’s a fucking capitalist investment, it’s NOT a way of life. If you subscribe to that: fuck you. Get the hell off my blog, sort your life out and work out what really matters in life. In fact, I’ll go further: quit wasting all of our times and JUST KILL YOURSELF. Cleanse the gene pool of your worthless contribution to our society. No… really. I’m not joking now. KILL YOURSELF. I bet you’re thinking: “Kenny’s being really ironic now.”

Back to the topic at hand, though. I mentioned the whole “Local Income Tax” and how it was doomed to failure. Sorry, but it is. Its fantasy based upon a fabrication. Yes, making the Tax fairer is a good thing, but the problem is that it taxes individuals. That means that when the policy comes up officially (which it hasn’t) the Labour Party can invoke the “Poll Tax Obfuscation” tactic. At which point we all lose. Aye, the SNP are for it. Aye, the Lib-dems can be persuaded, but if you invoke the Poll Tax Tactic in Central Scotland, you are fucked. End of conversation, by the way. You can invoke the skills of your favourite accountant all you like, but if some bastard invokes the Poll Tax argument, then your position is so completely compromised that you’re as well turning on your favourite porno and wanking to your heart’s content, because there’s bugger all else to do THAT evening.

I also do childrens’ parties…

If we want a ‘positive’ position on things, where do we go? Do we read the Daily Record? Hell no. It’s far too interested in Paul Ferris for any really interesting politics. Nope, can’t go there. What about the Quality press? The Hootsmon or the Herald? Nope, cannae go there either: they’re all either British Cheerleaders, complete with silk uniforms and converse trainers (just like Doctor Who). If you want positive articles about the SNP… you have to read English Newspapers…

I’ve broken paragraph so that you’ve a chance to pick yourself up off the floor, get yourself an Irn Bru and sat back down at the PC. Yep… If you want impartial debate about the SNP you have to go to England. Read these three links and browse back so we can have a chat:

http://www.guardian.co.uk/uk/feedarticle/7648498

http://www.independent.co.uk/news/uk/politics/struggle-for-survival-in-labour-heartland-865816.html

http://www.timesonline.co.uk/tol/news/politics/article4322703.ece

Interesting, neither Alex nor Nicola acquire demagogue status in ANY of these articles. Alex appears quite charming and just a bit Machiavellian, in fact. I would even go so far as to say that the SNP is being portrayed in a reasonably positive light. Is the problem the Britjock Press? Could it be that the standards we hold for our journalists aren’t high enough? YES OF COURSE IT IS! Stop being moronic and face facts: your journalists are lying to you. The objective for the Britjock press involves getting high-paid jobs in London as columnists or TV celebrities. To get those jobs they have to be MORE British than their counterparts down south.

They do this by BAITING you. Why do you think Martell Maxwell is so interested in the non-entities in Big Brother house? Why ELSE do you think Gorgeous George pretends to hates Nationalists so much? Why ELSE do you think Rikki Brown has to try SO hard to be SO pathetic when he’s trying to bait nationalists? These idiots aren’t even worthy of a slot on loose women never mind calling themselves Scottish Commentators. And don’t get me started on Robin Fucking Galloway. Stop being moronic and call these idiots for what they are: britjock cronies more interested in their careers than their jobs.

When these non-entities bleat, we buy it and accept what they have to say until truly analyse their comments. We spend time fighting the rotting corpse of our true history, and the neglect of Historic Scotland or the National Trust by standing in cold fields stubbing cigarettes onto the corpses of dead Jacobites and I’m starting to wonder: Is this right? I mean… I know all about what happened at Glencoe and I’ve been preaching the same dead message since 1999. Have any of those rallies made a difference? No. They haven’t. I’ve a NEW strategy, and those are publicly available history nights, when we get an occasion to get normal people along to hear some history, and that’ll be cool. We’ll meet, we’ll talk about stuff and everyone will go home informed. The problem with rallies is that we assume that the places we solemnly appear at are the only places with history in them. On a long enough time-line; which Scotland has, 2000 years means that every field has dead patriots in them. Another drinking club meeting isn’t the answer.

What is more damaging is continuing to allow our enemies, the revisionists, to continue to have a monopoly on Scottish history. Commemorations shouldn’t be the only method to fighting unionist injustice. We all know the Campbell’s weren’t to blame for Glencoe, so why allow the Unionists to paint THAT picture on THAT shortbread tin? Let’s get out there AND TELL PEOPLE! I’m arranging a history night for things like this. More info as and when… Contact me if you want to know more.

Doctor Who: Series Four Review

2008-07-10T20:26:00.005+01:00

As Siol nan Gaidheal’s resident sci-fi geek, it behoves me to point out that the little police box which could remains the sole example of British Imperialism still policing the world. Despite being a fan of the series, it remains a barometer for British Imperialism, British Pop-culture and what fears alienate Essexana that particular week.

The programme has good points, though, in that Russell T Davis has an atheist agenda which remains commendable. His lonely god traverses time and space with aplomb which thumb’s its nose at the rest of the universe.

This is, of course, in spite of Lawrence Miles extraordinary manipulation of the programme’s fan base. LM was a Doctor Who writer before the new series started who was jipped by the current outfit of writers and who found himself selling Rudyard Kipling’s “IF” philosophy to a generation of fans who wanted to believe David Tennant’s Bambi portrayal of the Lonely God. RTD found himself cast as Brutus and Cassius while LM found himself in the role of Dante.

My problem with the Little Police Box which could stems from the unkempt metaphor that the British Police are still policing the world on all our behalves. Where there is a wrong to be righted, Dixon of Sonic Screwdriver Green will be there to make sure we all go to bed happy, loved and protected. We’ve had this Shinto much more bluntly from Spooks where British Agents would happily dispense with a number of our Urban Myth fears about Islamic terriorism on our behalf despite the odd intrusion of one of Martin McGuinness’s cronies or the Welsh getting wired into the cast that season. TV reassured us that we were protected. We were… safe.

Aye dot dot dot right. The outcome of the 1707 fiasco and the 1745 rebellion were all okay because the Doe-eyed David Tennant was in charge of the Doctor this season. Thanks for that… I dunno what I’d have done otherwise…

But DT’s Estuary English is a sacrifice, isn’t it? He had to take on that Sewshalist Wurker drawl for the duration. This, obviously, is because the London-media will only accept an Estuary-accented Doctor in the lead role. When Sylvester McCoy took the role, it was a disaster, likesay. Let’s dispense with how successful Trainspotting was, or the fact that Cracker deserved an American remake or that Gregory’s Girl and Comfort and Joy were amongst the best exports Scottish Cinema has ever had. We remain, as James D Young quoted, the very bastards of creation. We, as a nation and a people, are not to be taken seriously because we represent the antithesis of what our masters’ decree we should represent as “Brits”.

Take a look at Margaret Curran, the Labour MSP now seeking to break her ain parties’ rules over who stands for the Westminster Parly. N.B, they brought in those rules because Alex Salmond. And they ignored those rules because of the SNP chances of winning Glasgow East. But it’s okay… Margaret Curran and her very British shoes will protect Scotland from herself. Yes… that was a dubious aside, but well granted I’d argue.

Sci-fi monsters ALWAYS represent the fears of their target population. Or at least they should. As LM pointed out, the Daleks in Doctor Who, crucial to three out of four season storylines have NEVER been scary. Granted, they’re iconic, and we all know we’re SUPPOSED to be scary, and probably naively assume that the kids are, so that’s alright then… but what IS a Dalek, outside of Doctor Who? What is a Cyberman? Both of the Big Bads represent a fear of being trapped inside technology; and we as humans are saved by a lonely god with a magic wand travelling the world in a British Police Box. Empire… steeling itself against the hoards of the future and keeping England’s green and pleasant lands… er green and pleasant.

That’s what Doctor Who IS and remains: a barometer of Imperialism. Doctor Who, in his current incarnation remains this, and even the writers tacitly acknowledge this. In the present Incarnation, Doctor Who is the last of the Gallifreyans, the species Doctor Who comes from. He is the last man in the universe capable of protecting London from the hoards of evil emanating from the darkest depths of the universe. And only a South London accent can save humanity. Yes… God is an Englishman in a brown suit. Or if you preferred Christopher Eccleston, a battered black leather jacket. Those of you who know my Jacket preferences will know which Doctor *I* preferred.

The formulaic Brit references are telling: Series one, London Blitz (“Aliens of London” and “World War Three”) and Charles Dickens (“The Unquiet Dead”); Series two, Queen Victoria (“Tooth and Claw”); Series Three, William Shakespeare (“The Shakespeare Code”) and Series Four, Agatha Christie (“The Unicorn and the Wasp”). This, naturally, is why Americans love Doctor Who. It shows their allies as they want to see them, not as they truly are. Through BBC Wales they see a British Empire standing against the forces of darkness.

What they fail to witness is the truth: a fragmented country, tearing itself apart since it had forged through lies, betrayal and blood and which is in the final stages of divorce from a shotgun marriage involving domestic violence, rape, murder, assassination, dirty tricks and a supremacist ideology that even the most rabid of Brits couldn’t possibly believe, although the more Neanderthal elements of the Brutish Far Right continue to aspire to.

In Doctor Who the British Empire can live forever, and to quote the Ninth Doctor: “Everybody lives, Rose, Everybody LIVES!” But those of us who have to live in the real world, and have done for three hundred years can only bear witness to the oppression and knowledge that the only thing which lives is the desire to assassination all four beautiful cultures in these Islands.

Last season, they had an episode (Series 3, Episode 10) called Blink. It was the best drama episode on BBC television in ten years, in my opinion. The premise was that every statue is a monster that only moves when no-one is looking. THAT was a scary idea, and no-one needed a mutant bloody pepperpot. The guy who wrote this, also gave us the sequel to RLS “Jekyll and Hyde”: the holistic and inspired: Jekyll. The writer happens to be Scottish, but that’s not why it was brilliant. And they gave him the Doc Who top job as Supremo Writer Dude.

And aye, I will be watching every series the BBC throws at me, not because I have to, not because it’s a barometer for imperialism and not because of those fucking god-awful Daleks, but because it’s still better than River-fucking-City. And it’s the only quality Sci-fi programme on the box. But like everything else on the EBC, it comes as a price, and that’s being force-fed a British ideology which doesn’t exist and paying for it through the license fee.

Addendum: Whilst I was preparing this post, I thought it pertinent to point out one of the formulaic features of the Doctor. Writer Terry Nation, who came up with the Daleks, conceived a series called Blakes Seven, which he claimed was "Robin Hood in Space." The Lonely God with his magic Sonic Screwdriver is, inevitably, Merlin transported into modern Whitechapel with the ability to foil Jack the Ripper's schemes...

Wendy Alexander: An Obituary

2008-07-07T16:00:00.004+01:00

Would it be too tragic to quote Oscar Wilde’s Requiscat in memory of Wendy’s passing? I don’t think so. Jesus… there were some days when she faced off against Alex Salmond and the Labour Party would’ve been just as well playing a tape recording of an Elk braying in pain over an arpeggio on a Casio Keyboard. Who WOULDN’T miss that lack of ability?

To the tune of “Mandy” by Barry Manilow

Well you came when I’d bearly formed an opinion

And now they’ve sent you away, oh Wendy

And your debating skills made bush look like Oscar Wilde,

So we need you today, oh Wendy!

Naturally this was OUR entire fault. DAMN us for making strong arguments backed up by exhaustive research by qualified accountants, political theorists and BLAST our practicality and accessible political arguments. How can we sleep at night knowing that WE are helping the Scottish People help themselves and not wanting to pour gallons of Oil Revenue and filling Scottish graveyards full of Her Maj’s Weegie finest so we can continue to massacre the Iraqis, Afghans or whoever else it is this week…

“The process of successive SNP-inspired complaints and investigations has been unrelenting and will continue well into the autumn, almost a year after the initial complaint.” Part of Wendy’s resignation statement.

*Raises both fists in air in disbelief* your hands were in the Biscuit Tin, you were CAUGHT in said Biscuit Tin, and somehow this is OUR fault? Yes, yes it WAS our fault. We made that Biscuit Tin all glittery and tempting. We filled it with nice biscuits, like those pink ones you used to get off your Gran but can’t remember the name of… We even had Jaffa Cakes in that Biscuit Tin. We put it somewhere it could be seen, like in a cupboard in the Kitchen. In fact, Wendy’s right. This is a travesty of justice. We should CLEAR HER NAME forthwith. That Biscuit Tin she nicked from was shamelessly whoring itself to the planet. Fuck it, that Biscuit Tin deserved to be violated by Wendy. Give that woman a Victoria Cross for exposing that Biscuit Tin to be the shameless harlot it so patently was. She’s like Woodward and Bernstein exposing President Nixon. Wendy. Saved. Us. All. Phone up the Sun and tell them… Fuck it, phone Richard Dawkins and tell him anaw. Get Nelson Mandela involved! We’ll have a Rally, there’ll be stickers, a petition and the Clash can reform with Joe Strummer’s Zombie corpse and THEN WE’LL ALL KNOW JUST HOW BAD THIS ACTUALLY WAS!

“I have enjoyed the loyal support of my shadow ministerial team, MSPs, staff and Labour colleagues.” More from Wendy’s resignation statement

Was I the only person who read that statement above and imagined 25 Labour MSPs on the Bridge of the Death Star looking hatefully through a window at Tattooine? Them all there with their Grey Uniforms, and Darth Wendy trying to Force Choke Luke Salmondwalker somewhere on the Planet below?

“I have sought to lead Labour in the Scottish Parliament with commitment and conviction without indulging in the personal attacks which have become so fashionable in current Scottish politics.” Another snippet from Wendy’s Resignation statement

Babe, you also led Labour with a bland housewifieness I found VERY suspicious. If THAT was your commitment level then I should point out that I was smoking Skunk Cannabis when I had THAT uninspired level of commitment. That was an interesting night… I nearly committed to learning the Sitar…

“I will of course continue to represent my constituents in Paisley North for as long as they entrust me with their support.” The Final Paragraph from Wendy's statement.

I had this conspiracy theory, not that this in anyway will reduce the obvious joy-quotient of Paisley North residents knowing that Darth Wendy will still inhabit their own personal part of the universe, but this theory was that Wendy was intentionally being shit. I’m going to be honest here, I found Wendy Alexander quite fanciable for a Labour MSP. And she’s obviously a smart cookie; she’s debated well before and then became leader and turned into something that would fail an audition on Loose Women. I don’t care in my “leader of men” is in an enemy party, I want them to have more Savvy than either Jacqui Brambles or Carol McGriffin. It’s a tough rule, but a fair one, I think…

It seemed to me as if the Labour Party were intentionally throwing the Parliament. They knew their fortunes were keech UK-wide, that the Tories were on the rise in England, and so decided not to argue too hard (to avoid creating headlines) for the Parly and make all the headlines in Scotland about the UK parliament, thus undermining Devolution for the period they AREN’T in office. My thinking is this: the Labour Party thinks they’re doomed at the next General Election to the Tories. So, they undermine the value of the Scottish Parliament knowing that Cameron will be the new English Hammer of the Scots and when it comes around to the NEXT set of Scottish Parliament elections (2011) Scottish Labour can leap in as Saviors, heroes and will rescue Scotland from the inept Nationalists. With the help of those commendable Liberals, natch. All the Liberals and Labour have to do in THIS Scottish Parliament is not take it seriously, and only try and thwart the REALLY big manifesto points the SNP wants through: like the Referendum and the Local Income Tax.

As an aside: I hate Liberalism for three simple reasons. It’s passionless. It doesn’t speak from the heart. It believes in nothing. It’s this passionless, “make it up as we go” attitude that perplexes me. I want my politics to have so much passion they want me to dance naked in a field with them. I want to feel like I’m making a difference just by being on the same side as my politicians, not that I’m only there to talk about coffee mornings or deliver bland leaflets which are demographically drawn up, targeted to that specific environment and aren’t in any way controversial to anyone. Heaven forbid.

My view is that Wendy will be followed by Cathy Jamieson or some other bland clone, and then by someone else until it gets close enough to an election to field a decent candidate (Pauline McNeill, Glasgow Kelvin MSP and current Shadow Justice Meenister) and only THEN will the revolving door stop and Labour will move their proverbial car into top gear and seek to save the Scots from themselves by being, feeling, voting… BRITISH.

But this, of course, assumes Alex and Nicola aren’t going to capitalise on their current position. Presently, I don’t believe that the Labour Party HAS anyone of the calibre of either Alex or Nicola. Nicola was hypnotic at Bannockburn this year. There were rumours that Alex blew us off for a Golf lesson. If he did, props for that. It’s that kind of debonair confidence and trust in his deputy we NEED. If Salmond gets a 2010 referendum and the Local Income Tax taken seriously (it’ll never see the light of day, sorry, there are too many holes…) then the Union is scuppered and my Labour Conspiracy theory is scuppered.

And there’s politics in a nutshell: You are being played, by everyone, all the time. Every single member, never-mind every MSP, has their own agenda and playbook they’re working ALL THE TIME on YOU: Joe McPublic. Enjoying it, are we?

Nicol Stephen: An Obituary

2008-07-07T16:00:00.003+01:00

So. Farewell then,

Nicol Stephen,

Lib Dem leader.

You’ve gone now,

And I can’t remember

What you

Sounded like.

Still…

It’s not like

Anyone ever

Made the mistake

Of switching your

First and last name

And that you were too

Polite to correct them…

Oh.

When great statesmen retire, it’s usually like listening to Nessun Dorma. There are waves of emotion and drama and everyone gets all misty-eyed. Commentators reminisce; old women get just a wee bit wet… (cos they’re still human…) Old men wish they HAD BEEN… him… Even the enemies, usually, say how much they enjoyed the ripostes they had, which is nice.

When a Lib-Dem goes, it rarely rates much of a reaction. Nicol, of course, is no different. He, apparently, was a nice guy. Woo hoo. Hope the family are cool an ‘at…

For a millisecond I wondered if there may be some Spooks-style premise where a bunch of Spies, watching a Glasgow Hotel for potential Al Qaeda operatives, had to untie Wendy and Nicol from the same auto-erotic escapade gone wrong that we all know happened to Michael Hutchence and then forced them to cover it all up by inconveniently quitting at the same time for different reasons. I have to concede though: this may not have been the case.

Between Wendy and Nicol, and M & S apparently going down the tubes, this is well turning out to be Lemming Thursday for the Brits. The economy is going to hell, the Unionists charged with messing up Alex and Nicola’s cunning plans have all decided that they’d rather be somewhere else. And if all that weren’t crappy enough, the best chance the Housewives of Sussex had in Wimbledon was some guy who said that he’d rather support anyone but the English Football team.

I should, of course, either be lamenting or crowing the passing of Nicol. I have no particular angle on Nicol, though, except that like most Liberals, I’ve never believed for one minute he spoke from his fucking heart. When Pauline McNeill went postal during the night on May 3^rd slagging off the SNP, I absolutely loathed that. But, I DID respect it, because it was genuine emotions. When Socialists at various counts wanted to make their feelings known about what they’d like to insert into the BNP candidate, where and just how often: I respected that brutal honesty. And when Annabel Goldie, is being coy and hilariously good in Parliament: I can respect that. I don’t need to agree, but I can at least respect certain things despite basking in their inevitable wrongness.

Here’s the problem with his resignation: he left because he wuvs his famiwy. Aw the nice. It may well be true, for all I know, but that’s like saying you didn’t pay a bill because it got lost in the post. No-one believes you, and you would at least get some respect for making something up. Here’s my rewrite of Nicol’s departure as it should have been:

“My fellow Liberals. I’d just like to say that these however-long-it’s-been months have, basically, rocked like fuck. Menzies… Ma runnin’ dawg! *points to audience where Menzies Campbell nods approvingly* Mikey… Mr Rockin’ Rumbles! Take this party, and those other puppies in the parly to the cleaners pal!

“So why am I leaving? I’ve… had a dream. It wasn’t about going to a mountain, and reaching the promised land. But that IS in this queue. Behind what I’m about to confess.

“I am pleased to announce that I have been cast as ‘Macavity, the Mystery Cat’ in Cats, the musical… Oh no, Mikey, not in the West End! Brothers and Sisters: Nicol Stephen is off to Broadway!” And then he stomps off the stage.

It would be even better if simply DID (after making the above statement) just leave politics for his family. It would perplex the hell out of the press and would, frankly, be the most interesting thing to happen in Scottish Politics since we all heard why Nicola Sturgeon got the nickname “Gnasher”.

Politicians, when they leave, can be witty and interesting and speak from the heart. I forgave the Tory Michael Forsyth when he arrived late at the Scottish Office, to hand over to Donald Dewar, grumbled about the traffic to the watching press and media and wryly said: “I blame the government.” THAT is at least being gracious in defeat.

I mean… to get angry for a bit… It’s not like there’s much competition. 12 idiots in a secret televised house in London where the collective IQ adds up to one of the Cans of Irn Bru you’ll get from a Scottish Parly vending machine. Either that or some horny, hormonal, forgettable flake from Eastenders / Corrie / X factor… There IS NO competition here. AND they don’t have an excuse. Ordinary people are great, and fascinating. No… really… you are. It’s the only reason I travel on Public Transport. Whether it’s those badly-dye-jobbed single mothers using their buggies to create an unsolvable maze to negotiate trying to get off; or the shy-to-the-point-of-autism being badgered by someone so extroverted they’ve probably sang “Shang-a-lang” at Simon Cowell at the Glasgow Auditions…

Politicians are intentionally dull because they don’t want to offend anyone. When has that EVER worked in Scotland? It’s what we do best. Late at night, in Glasgow, coming out of the Blue Lagoon underneath the Heilanman’s Apron, it was something of a ritual to stumble past a group of neds who thought it funny to bat the fish supper from underneath to see how many chips they could misplace. Or that one tragic occasion when a group of Irish Students passing the Park Bar in Glasgow, see me and my mates in kilts returning from an Arbroath rally, start making flute band impersonations and wondering just why my crazy friend was trying to explain to him, in the loudest possible terms, that he should sort his blinking life out.

My theory is that politicians are trying to dumb us all down. The reason that the Socialists want Cannabis legalised is because they want easier access. The reason that the Liberals want it is because they want us all to be as boring, tedious and navel-gaspingly shallow as their own party is.

Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull Review (with Spoilers)

2008-07-04T16:00:00.002+01:00

"Iiiinnnndeeeeee! The toorrchhh is going ooouuuuutt!!!" Karen Allen, from Raiders of the Lost Ark.

I still can’t decide if this movie was the most beautiful car-wreck I’ve ever witnessed or the weirdest brilliant movie I’ve ever seen.

Before we get to that, however, I need to explain my rating system. I don’t judge movies according to how good they are (cos the best thing you can see is a unique snowflake). I judge movies by The Rocketeer. It was the worst waste of my time, bar none. And I’ve seen a film called Les Invasions Barbares (crappy pretentious French nonsense). The reason I hate the Rocketeer so much is the helmet sequence. Snigger all you like, but it’s true. In the movie he sorts his flying ability out by ATTACHING A FIN TO HIS HEAD! Aerodynamics and oh, I don’t know, THE LAWS OF FUCKING PHYSICS had deserted this worthless pile of crapioca. So every film I’ve ever watched since then gets judged by how close it gets to how bad the Rocketeer was.

But, back to Indy. Between George Lucas and Stephen Speilberg, I think the rehabilitation of Erik von Daniken is finally starting. Bastards… Anyway. No, lets go back: Indiana Jones meets a spaceship. I can’t be the only person who will have a problem with this. And I *REALLY* can’t be the only person to look at the trans-dimensional crystal creatures and want smoke whatever Steve-o and Georgie were smoking during THAT meeting. If one wanted to, one might find coy references to all sorts of new age, David Icke / Erik Von Daniken accepting schizophrenia. If one wanted to. There were bits when I expected the Stargate SG1 team to turn in an appearance. Really…

The IJ franchise has a similar formula to James Bond: give the people an intro; then get onto the main formulaic mumbo-jumbo until Indy’s got the gold, the girl and a battering in the process. The intro in Raiders had the iconic rolling rock sequence. The intro in Temple of Doom had the blondie and the musical number. Crusades took us back to Indy’s childhood and featured a sullenly brilliant River Phoenix. Maybe GL and SS thought it was too much to top…

But this intro… The intro felt like an hour, but can only have been fifteen minutes long. And it was beneath crap. I felt sorry for all my jobbies reputations in comparison with this wanton garbage. And yes, I know it was supposed to be Ironic, but honestly when has that ever worked for America? I don’t need to go into much ABOUT the intro, suffice to say that the end of it had Indy escape a Nuclear Detonation. Let me reiterate that for you: INDIANA JONES ESCAPES A NUCLEAR BOMB GOING OFF… by hiding in a lead-lined fridge. Oh, and not just hiding, oh no, he was blown clear of the blast zone BY THE EXPLOSION ITSELF. You saw his fridge fly past some Commie cars which gets roasty-toasted in the process. It was at this very point, I grudgingly had to forgive the film its intro. Yes, the intro was so shit that started thinking fondly about The Rocketeer, but it was SO bad it’s growing on me by the hour. By nine o’clock I may have no objections whatsoever… But honestly: nuclear attack versus Indy: I’d NEVER have predicted THAT result.

But the whole Crystal Skull and Nuclear detonation gubbins is an important point, lost on us… It’s a cultural paradigm where Americans are willing to believe that anything is possible. The photography in Crystal Skull was brilliant, all wide open panoramic vistas and not just BIG landscapes, but droolingly beautiful MASSIVE landscapes. Compare this with, say Neil Gaiman and his BBC fantasy effort: Neverwhere. In it his biggest leap of imagination is that Homeless People fade out of existence until the go and live underneath London. Or China Meiville who built a city in the book Perdido Street Station by suggesting that people would live alongside midgets and sentient insects and generally mill around on Dungeons and Dragons quests for the duration of his work. The UK (and yes, as always I spit that word) is far too grudgingly domestic and empirical for my tastes. We lack the wide-eyed longing to believe that Americans have and the rip-off-your-clothes romance and passion of our European neighbours. They gave us Indiana Jones and we gave them River City and Rab C Nesbitt. Let’s all get in a congratu-circle and pat our backs for THAT one.

But this all stems from that Unionist subservience that our Clan Chiefs got themselves taught when the sold their lands to property developers and fucked off to Eton. We forgot our own primal passions and took up knitting. We swapped Claymores for Grandfather Clocks and right here, right now, I don’t think it was worth it. Not one little bit. The intention behind Jonesy (I think we’ve known each other long enough for me to call him Jonesy) was SO HUGE it deserves props. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I apparently knew more about the Nazca lines in South America than a 1940s Professor of Archeology, but I’m not about to hold that against the American movie industry. If I did, I’d have to explain why I enjoyed the Battle of Stirling Bridgeless in Braveheart…

And that’s my point, the good bits were GOOOOD. And the bad bits were so unashamedly self-mocking and cheesy that they HAD to be intended. I mean… you wouldn’t do that kind of thing on purpose, would you? And if that was the best script they’ve had in 19 years then… well… they should’ve just gone right ahead and used the first one they had. Just for the hell of it. On camcorder when Harrison Ford was out at Skywalker Ranch with Lucas and Spielberg… Get a horse, jump over some stuff… Sound rubbish? Probably. But STILL better than River City. At least Hollywood has ambition.

So lets write a big formulaic blockbuster for Scotland. Indy has what Lucas calls “McGuffin’s” (he got that idea from Hitchcock, but don’t tell the Daily Record cos I don’t think they know that based on their piss-poor review of the film). A McGuffin is a simple device used to propel what, if any, plot there actually is. So, Raiders had the Ark of the Covenant; Doom had the Sankara Stones; Crusades had the Holy Grail and Crystal Skull had… erm a Crystal Skull.

For a Scottish Blockbuster, the McGuffin HAS to be the REAL Stone of Destiny. It’s black, carved and shiny and can be ascribed magic powers I, as the writer, don’t have to quantify outside of the film… Our hero has to be someone who either HAS a sexy job, or someone whose job can be sexed up a bit for effect. So Tax Accountant is out. Let’s make our hero an Abseiling Instructor caught in a web of intrigue surrounding the whereabouts of the real, mystical Stone of Destiny. There needs to be baddies: I’d suggest the Royal Family. It’s hard to imagine Jug-ears as anything other than a baddie, so he’ll do. And the plot needs something to get the hero from his sexy Abseiling Job to the secret group protecting the Stone of Destiny. I’m going to go with the Lewis Carroll inspired “Rabbit Hole.” This is a concept in fiction where something small propels the protagonist inevitably towards the story, but makes the audience feel as if he is genuinely being drawn in (thus drawing the AUDIENCE in with him). So… Abseiling guy is giving lessons to some gorgeous model type from Edinburgh (we’re using Hollywood rules here, remember) who is mysteriously kidnapped at gunpoint from the Log Cabin she is renting in Glencoe (for the panoramic sequences). Abseiling guy reports this to the police, but they don’t believe him (the guy renting OUT the log cabin mysteriously doesn’t remember hotblondie…) Abseiling guy investigates to satiate his own conscience (he’s a decent guy, he’d do that kind of thing). And between his original inquiry to the fight sequence in the Cave with the Royal Family member, he has a rip-roaring adventure bookmarking ALL tourist trails and panoramic landscapes that Scotland has. And we HAVE A LOT.

That’s my point, though. If, on a crappy internet blog, you can get a formulaic idea which IS STILL better than what you get on BBC1 Scotland, then our TV license money is not being spent well enough. My advice is to rip up your TV License, cancel your Direct Debits and send the fucking paper back to them.

Back to Indy for a bit though: one of the most genius things that Steven Speilberg / George Lucas Inc did right was to bring back Karen Allen in all her smouldering, hot glory. Marion Ravenwood (love interest in Raiders, and love interest in Crystal Skull) was a BIG LOSS to the other two Indy Films (presumably to make Indy a “ladies man” like a certain Jimmy Bond). She is THE ONLY actress ever to have to had genuine sexual chemistry with Harrison Ford (unless you count Carrie Fisher, which I don’t, cos she has Sexual Chemistry with EVERYONE in Star Wars – including that wee Ewok in Return of the Jedi). Karen Allen makes it okay to fancy women in their 50s. That’s how good she is in this film. Karen Allen was so good, I haven’t even mentioned Cate Blanchett (woodener than Mahogany, sorry).

This is one of the few films to treat old age with the respect and contempt it deserves. The line that I think of doesn’t come from Indy; it comes from Vila from Blakes 7 who once said: “I’ll live forever or die in the attempt.” That’s Indy right there. And that’s what we’ve lost, I think: our cantankerous fighting spirit. And not in a “lets draw dirks” way, but our ability, as Scots, to endure problems. Instead of persevering, or holding out relentlessly we seem to want the cheap, quick way out. We lack the admirable qualities of the people we watch at the cinema, and instead celebrate the mediocrities of the non-entities we are force-fed every fucking night of the week in soap-opera-land.

And bear in mind, Indiana Jones HAD to be as self-mocking as it has turned out to have been. In the 19 years since the last one, we’ve had uber-unreality in the likes of NYPD Blue, 24, Battlestar Galactica, Friends… Entertainment has evolved because of films like Indiana Jones. My favourite moment in 24 is when Jack Bauer threatens to torture someone by force-feeding them a towel. (Now there’s a scary thought for you…) Indy can’t do that. And unless there’s a bit of tongue in cheek, the film couldn’t have worked unless they were so big, and so far over the top.

It’s just a shame that Scotland seems so content to live in such mediocre and bland fictions as it does. We invented EVERYTHING. In the real world, we rock! In the real world we’ve invented, protested and changed things. In our art, we’ve become staid, bland and feeble. We tell the world nothing. We don’t challenge the stereotypes, we put them on and wear them to Scotland games and try to “take the joke.” But it’s not a joke. We are for not trying to do better. America takes big ideas and turns them into theme parks. We take big ideas and water them down until they’re inoffensive enough for everyone to watch. There’s something wrong with that. There’s something VERY wrong with that.

Evolution of the Dark Places

2008-07-01T16:00:00.000+01:00

I take it that you've noticed the redesign, the name change and the fact that this blog has been untouched in months... Anyway, I'm back online simply because I can't find any blogs to read. I don't mind the copy-and-paste jobs, but I want to read original content, a different – more fundamentalist – slant on things. So that's why I've gone back to black for the Colour scheme. I find it absurd that all these blogs and I find so little of it interesting. Ach well. Que sera…

Originally, fundamentalism in Scottish Politics referred to a wing of the Scottish National Party. But since they went legit, it now refers to most pro-independence groups outside of, and mostly proscribed by, the SNP hierarchy. But this doesn't entirely cover it... What's the current status of the drinking club? Without the prospect of standing for elections, what do we fundamentalists actually do? The time you get MOST people together is whenever something is being commemorated: Glencoe, Arbroath, Elderslie, Stonehaven... The time of most activism is much less crowded affair: usually one or two stickering, leafleting, boarding, flag-burning or you-tubing to their hearts content. All of this is linked, and made bigger by the internet.

This presents two minor problems: one, 90% of people are more interested in the drinking club elements than the activism; two, the internet creates clans of people it's impossible to communicate with unless you're actually already in the room with them... pedants, keyboard warriors, emotional dyslexics (i.e. Those people who don't quite get the joke most of the time and think you're insulting them) and the sundry cruisers, boozers and losers this game attracts. I couldn’t be without the internet for more than a day, and I get vein-poppingly frustrated when I am. That’s when you know you love something too much.

Now I know I missed a meeting somewhere, because I didn’t get the memo which had the one answer to the multiple choice test of fundamentalist politics. Oh yes. There's an exam to do this. Oh yes. It asks questions like: “How does one carry a flag? A, Straight up. B, to the side or C, Using violence.” There must've been a memo cause for some people; violence is the answer to all their problems. And yes I do mean you… (*giggles childishly as three hundred people wonder if he’s talking about them…*) Sorry. Couldn’t resist.

But that's life, not a problem. If you have too few people you can't get anything done, if you have too many it's as if your dominatrix has forgotten your safe word and just won’t stop whipping... Sorry… should I get my coat?

Walking through Glasgow is an experience if you transgress the wrong places wearing something indicating socialism. I don't mean normal people... working class people... I mean students. Every student who has read and “got” Marx for the first time is Lenin born and you must worship their inadequate lack of knowledge, cos they get it more than you do. It's with a certain timorous regret that the YSI appear on the radar on that particular front... To the YSI the Siol are Nazi's and I'm a Commie / Nazi hybrid (basically I'm Stalin mid-purge). Meh. Could care less. I don't need any more lessons in activism, and as I'll explain later I'm past holding grudges against pro-independence people. I like 99% of the people 75% of the time. Which I think isn’t bad…

The problem with the fragmentation of the independence movement in general is that we're competing over scarce resources (i.e. YOU) and tell our fellow members everything else is bad because... for whatever reason I can't be bothered thinking up. All it creates is wild-west morality where lots of people who clearly can't read properly end up arguing over petty garbage for the sole reason that they can't understand each other. It also means that things become ends in themselves. Take postering: if you poster for Scottish independence; it seems to me that the internet has devised a new phenomenon. I'm told that in the 70s these things were done as a matter of course. Now it's de rigueur to do an American high-five on the forum of your choice. No.... YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BE DOING THAT! The American Internet has created a brazen: Let’s high-five petty shite cos we’ve bugger all else to talk about tonight! Woo-hoo! Unless (as someone I know DID) do a cheeky postering on a Labour Party office, you don't have bragging rights! I'm all for rewarding good behaviour, but some things are just stupid. One of the better things I read about recently was a ad-hoc contest for whoever could place a recently obtained batch of stickers in a more unique location than any of the others... See THAT's what I like. Not all this self-reverential penis envy that some activists indulge in, in between sobering up from the most recent drinking club meeting.

Ask. More. Questions. In general, and not of other people, but of yourself and who YOU are? Take any photograph you've seen of an event and ask yourself, not what it depicts, but who took it, and why? The scariest thing someone pointed out to me recently was just how little time we all have to achieve our collective aim of Scottish Independence. The average life-span of a human being is only 28,000 days (and much less if you indulge the drinking club as much as some activists...) Cut half of that because of the rest of your life and then divide that number by whatever arbitrary figure you want (based upon just what percentage of the year you actually spend DOING things – and no, rallies and piss-ups don't count) and the figure you're left with is tiny.

It also makes it inexplicable how so many people, with such a common aim, i.e. The freedom of our country, can't find the baws to at least TRY and get along, mystifies me...

Back Online

2008-06-29T19:26:00.002+01:00

I think it's fair to say that this blog is back up and running again.

Expect a rant about fundamentalism on the 1st July and a review of the Indiana Jones film on 4th July (seemed appropriate).

In between times I may even get around to reviewing Bannockburn.

Thank you for your patience.

SADR Fundraiser

2008-04-13T19:43:00.000+01:00

A' càirdean,

Please find attached the 'click-view' flyer for the upcoming St Andrews Day Rally fundraiser, please forward on to your e-mail contacts, address book and friend list.

Le taing.

CLICK TO VIEW -> http://i30.tinypic.com/4h5ixv.jpg

Council Tax Freeze... [update]

2008-02-14T21:06:00.001Z

Contact an amigo in the armed wing of NLC who advised that he was "99% certain" that Water and Sewerage charges would go up in the next Council Tax bill you receive.

Not like you actually give a crap, but don't come crying to me when you complain no-one told you.

Council Tax Freeze...

2008-02-13T19:54:00.004Z

Houston, we have a problem...

No, no, no: yes the SNP administration managed to get a freeze on the level of Council Tax in the Scottish Parliament. The Local Authorities wanted it, the workers wanted it, you: Joe or Josephine McPublic wanted it... We were all in a groovy state of symbiosis and loveliness that no-one should tramp on. Yet there was something that me and my colleagues started wondering about...

You see, I'm a Council Tax worker. No, I haven't a problem with that and yes, you probably shouldn't whine so much, but the problem with the "freeze" is that there may well be no freeze. What we started thinking about, was the 'hidden' portions of your Council Tax bill.

Let me walk you through it. The "budget" froze the Council Tax. But your bill is made up of three elements: Council Tax Charge and Water and Sewerage Charges. The latter two are governed by Scottish Water who are, allegedly, desperate to make rises and what with the Councils not making a rise, may well use the opportunity to make a bigger rise since the press only focusses on the Council Tax portion of your bill.

I checked the online documents, and may well have missed something, but from what I can tell you may well STILL be paying more on your Council Tax bill because Water and Sewerage Charges MAY rise. I'll know more by monday, because on Friday the system is down for rebilling. By Monday / Tuesday I'll know for sure.

Stay tuned.

Travelling...

2008-02-10T23:12:00.000Z

You ever wake up one morning and ask yourself, what's the point? Not in a comedy Rob Newman 1990s 'In Pieces with Newman and Baddiel' "I'm going to kill myself" kind of way, but more of a "I want to give up Scottish Independence" kind of way? I'm sort of getting there.

I don't drive, so when I'm busy, there's a whole lot of sitting listening to Radio 1 on buses and trains (Radio One because you get it everywhere and I hate Scottish Local Radio apart from XFM and One DJ on Radio Clyde).

Here's a list of groovy things I witnessed which will help the pro-independence cause:

* A concerted effort in Angus by Determination members to get signatures on the Scottish Independence Convention
* A live-action sketch (two ronnies style) on the Wee Unionists Handbook
* A decent turnout to be expected at the Glencoe Rally on Feb 17
* Radio Free Scotland being even more groovy than it already is (vague, yes, but there are definite things happening and they should be GOOOOOD).
* And a few things I can't talk about.

But when I'm sitting on buses for 12 - 14 hours this weekend, I wasn't thinking: Wow, this is going to be SO cool. I was thinking, I'm not getting any fecking cards this valentines, this year, am I? Yes I know: pathetic. But there you go. Too much time on buses and you go stir crazy.

That, combined with the fact that I got home, knackered, at about nineish and found that my copy of "Star Wars: Swedging the Jedi" wasn't bloody working and I finally flipped.

You may have noticed that this blog hasn't been, shall we say: updated much. This was cos it started appearing on "Scottish Blogging" roundups. I don't dislike them, i just don't think this is one of those sites. I don't know what this blog is... So I suspended it for a while to go back to being less corporate and more guerrilla bloggingy (which will remain undefined cos even I don't know what it means).

So... I came up with a rule. If you LIKE the Firefox Chronicles, and think: man, I think so and so should read it... Don't tell them. Enjoy it yourself. It's the kind of place you stumble upon by accident.

If Jesus returns... Kill him again...

2007-12-28T18:27:00.000Z

Merry Xmas and a happy new year.

Well that's another yuletide overwith, and only a few more days to go until my own personal favourite non-religious holiday: Hogmanay. Don't get me wrong, I like all you Jesus-worshippers. I especially that whole "We're celebrating Jesus - now let's taunt the kids with a Pagan Santa".

Being without a decent internet connections has revealed two rather strange things to me. One is that I like the strange norse word: Ragnarök (go look it up). The other is that the only forum I've missed reading is the Siol forum. This is surprising since I tend to read a lot of forums, and apparently the only two which I've actually missed is the Siol forum, and the Doctor Who forum (which I don't even contribute to).

Normal service on the blog will be resumed at some point with a couple of more interviews, and some footage of me sacrificing a goat to the Devil* and the odd piece of chicanery and comment.

I'm bored now and am going. Stay beautiful bloggerinos.

*I may or may not ACTUALLY be sacrificing a goat to the devil. It depends on my mood.

Interview with an Independentista... Dave Coull... [the activist]

2007-12-12T21:31:00.000Z

Dave Coull is a pro- independence activist of well-known reknown. Sometimes loved, sometimes disliked, always controversial and more than often right if you take the trouble to listen... Tragically for Dave the News of the World preferred to insult and defame him rather than listen to what he had to say. The same, obviously, is true of factions within the pro-independence movement. That's a shame, because fighting amongst ourselves doesn't help ANYONE.

Anyway, to the interview. Ladies and Gentlemen: Mr Dave Coull...

Q: Now that you’ve had some time to digest the NOTW article, what are your thoughts on it?

A: That article was a distortion of the truth. Every single alleged "quote" from me was in fact a MIS-quote which distorted what I had actually said, and every single comment from the NOTW was also a distortion. For instance, they turned my garage into a "chicken coop" because they thought that would sound funnier. Because the article was so blatantly inaccurate I wanted a "right of reply". I didn't want to sue for libel because I wasn't after money, just a correction in the NOTW. I consulted a lawyer about this, and he did write to them. They just ignored the letter. My lawyer advised me that the Murdoch Corporation, which owns the NOTW, would prefer fighting a lawsuit to publishing a retraction. He said they never retract anything, even if they have clearly been proved wrong. They are an extremely wealthy corporation with a team of very expensive lawyers who won't give an inch even in a very small case because of the precedent it could set. My lawyer said unless you're a multi-millionaire, forget about trying to take them on. I am not happy about this, and I'm not giving up, but any action is going to have be something else, not through lawyers and courts.

Q: The reaction from the pro-Independence lobby was not good. Why do you think this was?

A: Well, for a start, I reckon so far as quite a lot of folk in the SNP, or who are supporters of the SNP, are concerned, they feel they've got an SNP government, and there will be a referendum on independence sooner or later, so anybody who is demonstrating about this now must be some kind of nutter, and that made them more ready to believe anything the NOTW said about me. Then, so far as a lot of folk on the Left are concerned, there was the precedent of the Tommy Sheridan case. Quite a lot of folk in and around the old SSP, whichever faction they sided with in that party's troubles, probably took the view that I should have known what to expect from the NOTW, and, while what was printed was a distortion, by agreeing to talk to them I deserved everything I got. I had in actual fact been quite reluctant to talk to the NOTW, and would have preferred some other member of Determination to do so, but if I had refused they would probably have made a story out of that refusal, and printed something along the lines of what they were planning anyway. And let's not forget the split in Independence First. For folk who supported the closing down of the IF members forum, and the suppression of dissenting views, the NOTW describing me as some sort of impossible mister angry provided a very convenient way of shifting the spotlight off their OWN responsibility for the resignation of fifteen IF members. So, there's three reasons why some pro-independence folk didn't show solidarity with me.

Q: Is there any response you would like to make about the article?

A: I have written a detailed rebuttal of it. Do you want that? (FFX n.b. I have emailed DC over this).

Q: In your opinion, how will Scotland get its Independence from London rule?

A: I think it will be a combination of factors. There is the international context to consider, and the importance of international public opinion should not be underestimated. Generally speaking, I think the anti-war movement internationally is likely to be supportive. There is also the question of what is happening in England. A lot has been made recently of English Nationalism in reaction to the growing assertion of Scottish independence, but let's not forget that we also have our friends in England who support Scottish independence for positive reasons. Here at home, obviously the SNP government does have a role to play, and Alex Salmond is one very smart Alex indeed. But there are dangers in relying too much on any government, or on any political party, or on any Great Leader. If the troubles of the SSP with Tommy Sheridan proved anything, it was that relying too much on a charismatic leader meant it was a total disaster when something went wrong for that leader. It is important that the independence movement doesn't rely too much on any one leader, or on any one party, or, come to that, on any single campaigning organisation. We should support the initiative of the Independence Convention in promoting a petition aiming at one hundred thousand signatures, but not fall into the trap of seeing that as the ONLY way of campaigning. So far as our group, Determination, is concerned, our contribution will probably be quite small, but, nevertheless, I think it important to have an independent voice which is pushing hard for a referendum and for independence without delay, and not following anybody's party line. All of these factors will play their part. Sooner or later we will get our referendum, I am absolutely certain there will be a decisive majority for independence, and although there will be all sorts of obstacles placed by various elements of the British establishment after that, if we keep pushing hard, and remember to seek and keep the support of folk in other parts of the British Isles, and folk in Europe, and folk in the wider world, I think Scotland will be independent within a few years.

Q: [Since I’m a republican] Are you a Republican or a Monarchist?

A: The only reason I have never described myself as a republican is because I tend to be a bit anarchistic in my attitudes, and the word republican tends to imply support for a government as long as that government doesn't have a king or a queen!

Q: If you had to make one statement about Scotland, right now, what would that statement be?

A: REFERENDUM NOW - INDEPENDENCE - YES OR NO

Give us a damn elected President...

2007-10-31T19:54:00.000Z

Apparently... your humble narrator was wrong in suggesting Freddie Windsor as being the Royal at the centre of the blackmail plot mentioned in the London Times at the Weekend.

Both Ninemsn and The New Zealand Herald name Viscount Linley as being the target of the blackmail plot. Throneout offer a lifetime supply of smarties to the person who posts the offending video on the internet. I'll match their "lifetime supply of smarties" and up that to a "lifetime supply of cremola foam and the entire Bruce Springsteen back catalogue".

This isn't a personal thing, this is almost entirely political. Our masters have decided that it is better for us to have amatuer, inbred socialites to take the top job in Scotland (President / King / Supremo / etc) rather than someone who WE can select.

Linley is 12th in line to the throne. That means that if there is a couple of car accidents we get someone who clearly isn't qualified for the role to get the job.

Sack the royals. Sack Westminster. Give a real parliament or build a bypass through that shithole in Holyrood.

J'accuse Freddie Windsor...

2007-10-29T22:18:00.000Z

Royal correspondents in the "Royal Blackmail" story seem to think that Lord Frederick Windsor is the prime candidate for the target of the "sex act" blackmail on a junior member of the Royal Family.

A poster on Kevin Williamsons blog seems to think that "Sex Act" equates to one of Fergie's brats. I doubt it, because "sex act" in the tabloids almost always translates as "blow job". Factor that it with Lord Freddie already being openly gay, and a user of Cocaine (mentioned in original Sunday Times article). The "blow job" could easily be one of the Fergie girls, but the small price of the blackmail: £50,000 factored in with Freddies gayness and admission of cocaine use leads most thinkers towards him.

Being the staunch republican I am, it's always pleasant to note which Royals want to assassinate each other, shag each other and generally misrepresent the common people who make Scotland great.

Trip

2007-10-20T21:13:00.001+01:00

I took a trip to Ben Lomond with friends... These ur the photies....

On the car trip there...

By yon bonny banks...

Another of those bonny banks...

Pier and hill

Sometimes you're better off back home...

We stop to spy some Heilan coos...

Another photie of them heilan coos...

Car window and landscape

Watering hole...

Another watering hole, with friend and kid...

My lunch

Kid number two bothering truck....

Ego

2007-10-17T18:53:00.000+01:00

I have to put with Lanarkshire hot-heads barking at me on the phone. This means that after work, the last thing I want to do is communicate with the outside world. Still... my main survival mechanism is honesty. Brutal, blatant honesty. It bruises a few egos, but it usually works. Australia, however, has exploded this principle to a massive campaign against young drivers. And it's genius....

Read this: http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/world/asia-pacific/7045178.stm

It's a good idea, int'it? Don't attack the man, attack his ego.

Now onto Football fans... I've holidayed in a couple of weird places, one of which was a city in the Ukraine called Chernovtsy. This news story though highlights how little regard most football fans have for the reality of international problems. Football fans are morons, and this isn't an anti-english thing. I'm including Scots who join the Tartan army in various eastern european destinations and whichever set of supporters it is, seem surprised that they're not treated the same as if they were travelling to Falkirk. If I travel abroad (which is a rare occurance) I make sure I'm prepared and know a bit before a go over. The most football fans seem to manage to pack is the football shirt of their choice and the hope that whichever distant abroad destination they're travelling to is a bit like they're home town.

Still, funny in the ego states this week was Menzies Campbell who seemed surprised and perturbed by the fact that he was considered old. At 66. This particular hemisphere of the planet is often chastised for a lack of respect for the old. Well put it this way, respect is earned and if our pensioners don't have it, then don't look to younger generations as the source of the problem. They were the ones enacting the laws and raising the young who disrespected them. Ming was as guilty of his folly as the emperor who ordered his new clothes. He took a job and fucked it up. He underestimated people's views on his age, and failed to prove how much of a sage he was.

There's even a few in the Nationalist movement for whom I certain amount of complacency when I think of them. Ian Hamilton QC (whose blog is here) is one who has made me think. Not in a good way. For the Nationalist movement, he should be a hero. Someone who should sit at a fireplace somewhere and recount for the umpteenth time his story about the Stone of Destiny. But what I read is the ramblings of an eccentric more fitted to the BBCs Grumpy Old Men programme than someone one should respect. He seems happiest when baiting a reaction. This is something I can entirely understand, and probably HAVE done time and again, but for the life of me I'm struggling to see the point in this old relic and those like him, anymore. I don't want to read more coy defence or old age repentance, I want to hear a bit more politics and a bit more fire. I guess this is a hangover the the implosion of the Socialists and it's subsequent and interminable naval-gazing. Ian's turning into something out of Dickens or Shakespeare and not whatever he's being cast by the Nationalist movement as this week.

Risk Factor: Cannabis...

2007-10-15T20:59:00.000+01:00

I was browsing the interweb, and found this rather weird website documenting (seriously) some "notable names" and general biogs thereof. Fair enough. Then I noticed on Kirsten Dunst's biog the term: "Risk Factor: Cannabis". In addition they provide a helpful definitive list of Hollywood A-list Dopeheads: http://www.nndb.com/lists/352/000083103

My personal favourite surprises on this list were Tony Bennett and Ted Bundy. Clearly Ted had either smoked too much or not nearly enough. It's that balance that's the bitch, obviously.

From what I can tell, it seems that if you're a creative type, smoke more weed, but if you're political you're fucked.

I guess it's slightly ironic then that the main political party "pro" cannabis was the one which got paranoid about who was sleeping with who, when, if they paid for it, whether they'd go to jail or not and how they don't speak anymore. Ach... poor SSP. The same thing happened with the Beatles. Too much weed and then bring sex into the mix. Bad shinto happens.... And lets be honest, neither Wings nor John Lennon's solo career was as good the Beatles. Be honest.

Still, this isn't an anti-cannabis rant. I've tried it. It wasn't as good as alcohol, but I'm not sure I'd sign a petition about how offensive / inoffensive it is. I'm not sure what this is...

Council Tax and the SNP

2007-10-12T19:06:00.001+01:00

The SNP are a nice bunch. They want rid of the Council Tax and want to get Scotland Independent. They want wars to end and everyone to be nice, non-racist and groovy. It's like we put Karen Carpenter into power.

But there's something not quite right. Something they haven't answered. I've asked on discussion boards and never received a reply from pro-indy activists. I've asked on boards where some people claim to like me. I've asked on boards where it's rats nest. And still... no reply.

And no-one answered me. No-one even tried. Any time I brought it up, it was like... nothing.

My query is relatively simple. And I decided to ask Nicola Sturgeon since she was deputy Prime Minister (or Deputy First thingy) and also because I quite like her Bay City Rollers haircut.

I'd post you the letter I sent, but it's on my work's computer and I'm here... you can figure it out.

I asked, simply, this: I like your idea for scrapping the Council Tax. But I want to know what happens when you transfer the jobs from the Local Authority to the Inland Revenue. Do the staff members at the local authority get fired?

Before you start thinking about your own position, consider a few things I know before you jump to any conclusions. Firstly, there's over 4000 people employed across Scotland in Council Tax. Unlike some Trade Unions, Unison (which I'm a Steward for) doesn't mind striking. We've struck for pensions, pay, conditions and a whole myriad of issues. (er... there are a few bad bits, but lets gloss over them as "irrelevant" for now...)

Next, lets time travel back to a few years ago to Carolyn Leckie at an SSP Cumbernauld public meeting about the Council Tax. An old couple asked her a variant of my question. Carolyn replied: "Well... the Council can employ them elsewhere." Don't be fooled by Carolyn's reputation, that reply was dumber than you'd get from a page three girl. To "employ" them elsewhere you either have to create jobs for them where the skills they have match the skills they are going into (but we already know the jobs are going to the Inland Revenue and so that's out the windae). Alternatively, you can redeploy them to other parts of the Council. 4000 people. You see the problem?

The problem is in paragraph 3 or Raymonds reply. The SNP don't know what they're going to do with 4000 people willing to strike and take the shine off their sexy "Scrap the Council Tax" policy. This is an achilles heel of the policy and... I'm disappointed in the Government for that.

You could go for sour grapes and go: "Och well, they're all tax collectors and probably deserve it." Maybe you're right, maybe you're wrong. It doesn't matter. The point is that with a unionist press and lots of striking people the SNP will get a battering in the polls. If they'd thought this out, this wouldn't be a problem.

The obvious answer is to simply transfer the lot: lock, stock and watercoolers to the Inland Revenue (or whatever Scottish Version Eck and Gnasher have up their sleeves. But consider this: I pay £8 per month subs to Unison (the general fund, not the New Labour fund). Since a different trade union exists in the Inland Revenue, do you honestly think Unison is going to ignore the loss of £32,000.00 per month in subs to the PCS (who represent Civil Servants in the Inland Revenue) without striking about it? At the very least Labour is going to exploit it, and for me, the SNP haven't thought up an argument against it.

I want a fairer tax for the people, but I don't want that done by resorting to Thatcherite mass sackings in doing so. I want the Scottish Government to prove it has the mettle and (ignoring my atheism for a moment) the Wisdom of Solomon to solve a problem before it comes up. And I'm not confident they've done so.

Legends...

2007-10-04T22:17:00.000+01:00

I'm slightly more interested in meeting a few of my bloggerino's than reading the news right now.

Take Leonna for instance, she's linked to me and she's like an internet superstar... Far too many stalkers that one wee paisley lassie should have, but if she needs hauner's I'm there... See me... I'll do anything for a link! Even Michael G has linked to me and he's like a left-wing icon these days (honestly guys: Tommy Sheridan is his bitch...)

Anyway: Legends, yes, Princess Diana: hmm.... Tony Benn... mmm...

Various videos and new articles have appeared detailing all the conspiracy theories concerning how / why / when Princess Diana died. Now, admittedly my Republicanism means that I could officially give a crap how / when / if a member of the Royalty died... but this time it was all rather public and obvious.

The strange inevitability of Diana's death meant that we plebs couldn't get a respite from the conspiratorial moral panic. We couldn't escape the Daily Express diary of Mohammed Al Fayed's Illuminati theory about how his son died. And honestly... who can blame him. "Hi... my son got himself engaged to a Bond Villian's ex-wife. Do you want a bagel?"

Throw into this mix Tony "Wedgewood" Benn and his incessant "I'm the best Socialist. Ever. No contest. Tommy Sheridan can fuck right off and George Galloway is a cunt." Seriously... I'd rather have Tommy and all his sexaholic problems than George Galloway or Tony Benn any day. I could officially give a fuck if he got jiggy with SSP party members or not. My only regret from the SSP is that Katrina Trolle didn't pose with Chanelle from Big Brother in a Daily Star spread.

I mean honestly, who believed Diana's crocodile tears for all her weapons of Mass destraction and land mines, and who believed that it wasn't Tony Benn who shut down the Scottish mines for Hunterston and Torness Nuclear power stations...

What pisses me off, isn't pointless deaths, it's pointless beliefs. You have all the answers to your legends lies and you believe them. THINK!

Cry Me a River

2007-09-28T20:57:00.001+01:00

So... an Independence Activist gets hoodwinked by the News of the World and what does the Independentistas do? Er.... slag him off...?

Excuse me?

Okay. Here's what happened... Dave C, in an attempt to get a referendum organised a small protest outside the Scottish Parliament. I joined in, took photos and they were then circulated to other Determination members. (determination is a small pro-independence grouping).

Dave was then contacted by the News of the World's hack: Jacqueline McGhie. They did a bit of a jokey piece, bit unflattering and made some stuff up. Still, for my money, it got the posters in, the protest in and made a bit of noise that four people and one camera really shouldn't be able to make.

Still... if you listened to the forums online it's the end of the world, Dave is the anti-christ and "get it right up him". That's bullshit, we should be standing together as pro-indy supporters. But nooooo.... apparently the spirit of unity has been replaced with madness.

I've had enough of internet forums, I honestly have. People develop cajones on these places where they didn't have any before. So... they can all officially go to hell. I'm done with them.... *washes hands* I figured that if I had anything to say, I'd just do it here.

So... to the indy activists curious about my opinion on the NOTW Dave C article? Dave stood up when he didn't have to, and put himself on the line and risked a lot for a good cause. You may not like him. Right now, I officially could not give a crap whether any of you liked him or not. HE had the balls to stand up. AND he attempted to liaise with the press to get his message across. He got burned. He should not be slagged off, he should be fucking lauded. And for those people who put their personal opinions of a human being before the fight for independence. My message to you is on the paragraph below.

Right. If you don't like a human being, or how that human being has treated you, then fine. But if you put that personal dislike before the fight before Scottish Independence, and bitch on the internet: I'm officially done with you. A reality check here, bitching on internet forums isn't going to free Scotland. Protests outside the Scottish Parliament are going to do a LOT better than me typing on this blog and YOU typing on whatever forum you prefer. And incidentally... you've got three hundred fucking years of oppression to bitch about from the Brits and there are people who seem to prefer policing the Independence movement than getting stuck into the unionists. Did I miss a meeting? Did I miss the point of who the enemy was. For those of you who claim to believe in Independence and have used forums to slag Dave off. You need to sort your priorities out. You need to ask yourself which side you're on. And more importantly, you should be really fucking ashamed of yourself.

So... you have an opinion about how an Independence Activist conducts themselves? Cry me a river, see how much of a crap I give, go sort yourself out and show the rest of us how IT SHOULD BE DONE.

A very British coo... [a machiavellian perspective on the Scottish Parliament]

2007-09-25T22:52:00.001+01:00

I have this conspiracy theory. It's speculation, mostly, with a bit of hard experience thrown in.

First of all, lets briefly brush past Machiavelli:

"A wise ruler ought never to keep faith when by doing so it would be against his interests." Niccolo Machiavelli

Wendy Alexander got a skelping in the press for her inept debut in the Vichy Parliament a few days ago. For one, I was nervous of Wendy. She IS quite bright, though a bit mouthy (no pun intended).

Labour, since before the election, has been distinctly lacking it's usual tactical nuances. This means one of two things: one, the gradualists in the SNP are suddenly brilliant. Or two, Labour is intentionally allowing it's Scottish Branch to fail.

Now, you'll find lots of threads, fora, fauna and articles about the former "we're braw" position, but very few of the machiavellian position. I thought I'd bring it up. Here is my conspiracy theory.

Henry McLeish was the man who was confident that a Scottish Parliament would all but wipe-out the SNP. It was intended to take three-party UK politics into a new era and eliminate demands for Independence by providing the Scottish People with definite and legitimised powers. He was wrong, he was sacked, and instead New Labour in London was sidled with a parliament which instead hightened feelings of an Independent Nature.

Not only that, the nats have sidelined their Bay City Rollers Govan Temptress into "co-pilot" position and sent Walter the Softie back for retraining. Meanwhile, the charismatic one, "Eck", is back in charge. The People adore Eck, and London has bombed the crap of enough countries for people to get a bit sick of the current situation and want a change.

As a result of all the London policies: ID cards, wars, economic problems on the horizon, and a Nationalist election win up north, you fact a dilemma. If you fully back up the Labour Party in the Scottish Parliament, you legitimise it, and more importantly, prolong it. If, however, you intentionally subvert Scottish Labour in the light of an impending election loss in Westminster, you do a number of things. The Liberals and Tories are weak in the Vichy Parly. As are the Greens. There's no Socialists anymore. If you intentionally weaken the Labour Party, you leave only one strong party: a minority SNP government who can't get a vote through because there isn't enough of them. That's because of Proportional Representation.

With weak british parties in opposition in the vichy parly, you can isolate the SNP in a situation where it can never get a decent vote through. You can't lose a Westminster election to the SNP because you've reduced and Gerrymandered the seats conveniently enough. After that, you have a Westminster government with a strong legitimate government (whichever party wins) and slowly but surely you erode public confidence in the Scottish Parliament enough until people will THANK you to get rid of Holyrood and bring back all Westminster rule.

The one thing you CAN'T do, is to provide serious opposition to the SNP inside the vichy parly. If you do so, it allows Alex Salmond to perform and get his ratings up. Put on a boring, businesslike display, and he should remain stifled. You can even switch leaders, transfer the good ones to Westminster and leave the SNP to rot in their minority government.

So there's my conspiracy theory: Wendy Alexander isn't meant to succeed, she's designed to fail. She's designed to make the Scottish Parliament LOOK like a waste of time. She'll pick pointless fights on irrelevant issues that will be buried inside the tabloids, while Gordon Brown hogs the front pages with Westminster issues. The "social value" of the Holyrood project will be subverted by and for Westminster's benefit. And "social value" is the key here. It's a matter of public perception and confidence in their elected members. With the SNP in minority government, it's unlikely to get key votes through. Not the kind of key votes it needs to legitimise the parly without enough powers.

Blastoff.... Rock X (my Science Fiction Novel) released on t'internet...

2007-09-23T00:11:00.000+01:00

http://stores.lulu.com/kennethsheerin and http://www.lulu.com/content/384612 are both the locations where you can buy my Science Fiction Novel.

Yes... I wrote it myself. Yes.... it's probably historically inaccurate... BUT... it's funny. And... it's not my fault any of the failings you MAY or MAY NOT find!

It's YOUR story. At some point in history you found that you were not the dull, self-deprecating individual that you thought you were. You thought that those two or three DVDs you have in your collection which you have singularly failed to unwrap was because you didn't like the movies concerned or because you were "an individual"! I'm afraid not. Let me point this out... when you are asked to "think of a card" you're one of these people who think of either a face care (queen of hearts or jack of diamonds) or a black number card.

You have a mission to complete, and the narrator of this tale will tell you how you got that point. But first... you need to finish you mission.

This is your story...

A person inside a bottle of ginseng always destroys a monkey!

Angus Council Saltire Petition and a vijjoh...

2007-09-19T14:06:00.000+01:00

A while ago I posted a youtube I'd made called "Saltires... Everywhere". Happily this has now reached 3000 hits! Woo-hoo! That's almost respectable...

Anyway, to the point of the post.

http://www.montrosereview.co.uk/news/Council-flag-plan-branded-antiScottish.3193927.jp

This Scottish-Cringe decision is reprehensible. I don't need to tell you why...

Anyway, do me favour and pop along and sign the petition here: http://www.petitiononline.com/saltire

Pop Star Rant

2007-09-14T19:26:00.001+01:00

Apparently KT Tunstall has gotten stuck into Scottish Independence in this post... Before I get to my rant however, please consider this...

On the left... President Laura Roslin of the Battlestar Galactica, on the right, er, KT Tunstall... (I think). Separated at birth... two space cadets. Aye thang kew...

To the rant though... I know only a few Scots who've left these shores to go to America. One of whom is President Matthew (mentioned in a previous post) and the other is... well... erm... that's it really. The rest I've read about in the press on seen on TV.

Every Scottish song you'll read in the "big groovy book of Scottish Songs" concerning not being in Scotland has the same motif: "eeeven thoooughh ah'm on eeeassster iiissslaaandddd I still wwaaaaannnttt taaee beeeee in Scccoootttttlllaaaannnddd...!" Think Caledonia, or virtually anything you'll hear at new year.

The tartan army are evidence of this hypothesis. They drink the beer, shag the locals and fuck off back home again telling the rest of us how homesick they were. Aw the nice.

But pop stars. No... that's not for them. No... they like to take pot shots. We're "nasty" "arrogant" "drunks" "the old country" and a host of other petty insults, vague backhanders, malevolent comments amid the general luxury of getting felt up by whichever pickup artist they've deigned to let entertain them for that night whilst out their heads on cocaine.

I'm sorry... no... I'm not about get off my high-horse whilst a series of drunken, dope-headed nonentities have slagged off where they came in the vague hope that Bono or Madonna will jump them in whichever coy charidee event their publicist said it would be cool to turn up at.

My most abject contempt is reserved for the inevitable cop out you get from Scottish popstars and celebs abroad when they've said they'd blow up govan if they had the chance only to realise that their next video is to shot amongst govan's sharpened pitchforks. The persona-non-grata of worthless excuses: "The press misreported me." No they didn't. Like the rest of us, at some point in your pointless existance you fucked up and regret what you've said. I get that same crappy excuse every day in my day job. Someone sends them a letter, and they phone me. They've ignored the previous fifteen nice ones and want to rant at me for the one nasty one they get. So to make sure I can't tell them off, they say: "I never got those letters." So while they're gearing up their rant engines I tell them that every other caller has told me that and that the Post Office isn't that bad. Then I shout at them until they hang up.

I have a grudging respect for Billy Connolly though. No... listen to me. If I went up to Billy Connolly, I reckon he'd stand up for himself and what he said. He might say I misunderstood the joke, or that he DID think such and such. But the rest of our celebs? I fucking doubt it, brothers and sisters. I reckon if either of the Maryhill Mob (who sometimes read this) took KT aside, or even Lulu when she got stuck into home rule as well, I reckon we'd get a host of excuses about how "that wasn't what she said".

I have several policies I'd like to see enacted. Some aren't relevant to this rant, but they're along the same theme (ish... very ish...)

One. If you decide to become involved in the "entertainment industry" and then fuck off abroad, we reserve the right not to let you back in when you've slagged us off in the press. Your family (who will no doubt disagree) can officially "fuck right off" since they spawned you.
Two. Anyone who gets a driving license has to take anger management lessons for six months being being allowed to continue to drive.
Three. Women should have subtitles detailling what they actually mean as opposed to what they actually said.
Four. All celebrities should come with "as much a lying and cheating bastard as any politician is" mental health warning.

Pant... pant... I feel much better for that rant...

Dag-nab it...

2007-09-12T16:25:00.000+01:00

Occasionally I get caught on film.

And even rarer... I have to put all photos on the interweb.

http://www.taghairmdubh.com/determination.htm

Yep... your narrator has been a-protestin' and it's been caught on camera. MY camera in fact. I didn't know other people knew how to work it...

Vice City Stories

2007-09-10T21:31:00.001+01:00

Okay. So back three or four years ago my mate Matthew finally found a girl not only willing to put up with him (props for that Elise!) but who, apparently, was also willing to breed with him. And so the world consequently got itself two more Celtic Supporters. Unfortunately for me, my best mate then went to live in Florida.

You'd think Florida would be a great place to live, but apparently they've got even more nut jobs than we do. See his last email below:

"Are you Irish?" woman asks

"No, Scottish."

"You sound Irish, well you sound all alike!"

"Are you Mexican?"

"That's disgusting...."

She walked away. This shows the true real Southern people of the USA, believe me it can get worse.

If anybody you know who says, 'Florida is great' Tell them to come to Citrus County, basically, tell them not to go to Tampa, Orlando or Miami

Second lady was telling me, that her son is living in Germany and married to a Finnish girl.In Finland, income tax is 68%, health system is in excellent order, streets were clean, landscape is beautiful and there is no worry about their National Insurance/Social Security.

So after I've become Governor of Florida, I'll be back to be President of Scotland. Income tax will be 70%, council tax will be 5% value on all homes, if you live in a house worth over 200,000 you will pay 15%.VAT will be at 25%. Free health,dental and vision, better public transport. Build a super airport in Croy (trains services to Edinburgh and Glasgow, using my noggin)Then we'll see what happens from there! Put that idea to your friends and see what they think?

Third lady, I just wanted to cry.

Black lady maybe in her late 30's, with a small kid about 6 or 7.

She asked if I was Scottish, told me she went to Scotland loved it, loved Loch Lomond, Edinburgh, Glasgow, Stirling.

Went to Ireland, Galway and Dublin. Then the weird thing about her trip was she took the kid to see the dogs getting trained for the Police and fire brigade.

Then she told me it was a Scottish charity group that took her, the kid and a bunch of other people over.

Carron kids charity group? She was uncertain about the name.

Then the teary moment, her husband died in the 9/11 attacks. I felt terrible, it was a pleasure talking to her and I didn't even ask her name.

MAJOR BLOG NEWS! Novel to be Released!

2007-09-04T21:37:00.001+01:00

It's taken me four years, and more than a fair bit of my sanity to complete, but I can finally announce a launch date for my self-published novel: "Rock X"!

Could someone email the Cumbernauld news for me...? I'm a bit shy about this...

Title: Rock X
Author: Kenneth Sheerin
Date Published: 23rd September 2007
Pages: 298
Style: science fiction, comedy
Where to buy: http://stores.lulu.com/kennethsheerin
(from Sep 23rd only though...)

This is the reason why a countdown meter has appeared on this blog, as well as more than a few of the sites I tend to appear on.

Rock X is a surreal science-ficiton comedy novel which I've spent the past few years writing. Influences include people like Douglas Adams, Franz Kafka, Hans Arp and almost every piece of music in my collection.

It's not just an online book... oh no. You can buy an actual paper copy. It's 300 pages long of surreal Scottish Sci-fi.

And you're in it. Yes... YOU. The person reading this.

Novel Blurb...

Rock X is a Surreal Science Fiction Comedy story set in Scotland. Several versions of them, actually. You're in it. Kind of.

You and Max, you know each other, although you may not remember meeting him... Basically you've lost your memory and Max has to recount to you how you ended up so boring and reading pointless messages like this on an internet forum.

You are from a parallel universe. You are from a version of Scotland which is more technically advanced and was never part of the British Union. It's a shame you were on the run, though, otherwise you might have preferred it to here...

Unfortunately, you're not that good at running away and you soon end up captured. So... Max and the girl who refuses to go out with him, Kaz, have to try and rescue you from a parallel universe version of Scotland and if they succeed, you have to help them save Scotland from itself.

T minus 17...

No added sugar

2007-09-03T22:30:00.000+01:00

I bought some Asda brand "no added sugar" orange juice for the first time in years. Usually I went for those packs of freshly squeezed something or other because I liked the face I made the first time I drank them. But no... this time I went for the stuff that was reincarnated orange. I had that glass of buddhist orange juice with a tin of "no added salt" Tesco Macaroni Cheese and some toast. The toast had the most taste. I don't know what it is, but to me "no added" means your taste buds get the afternoon off. I'm a smoker, and jeez, if I think something is bland then what's it like for youse who actually HAVE taste buds?

No added [whatever] = no added taste

I've tasted war food. I grew up with weegies who decided that even though they weren't sending any chaps to war, that didn't mean they had to evacuate to somewhere nice. My dads lot, who were Irish, they adopted the shameful family motto: "Fuck you and your bombs, we're sensible." Despite this rather chaotic family tree mixing weegie "come and get some" with Irish "We're not killing for you, you bastards" I had a healthy meal time all around. There was lots of veg, meat, running about and taste. Now, with Jamie Oliver, Channel Four and that prick off of GMTV Doctor Hilary "Botox" Thingy we now have entire supermarkets worth of shite.

See that crappy food your mammy ate? That had taste. That killed the gerries. That built a fucking British Empire (which isn't exactly something to be proud of, since we invented concentration camps an' that) but it's still something that we were able to do. But see that shite we get fed from Sainburys / Asda / Tesco / Morrisons? That stuff, I wouldn't feed my dead dog Patch that garbage.

Patch was a great dog. But that's a story for another time. She used to get excited about going walkies by camping out at the door and barking until I went to get her and she'd jump her front paws towards me, then the door, and then her lead so I knew she wasn't just horny for the front door. She was a lovely dog. Most supermarket food is pish. But that's my point... Right now, I'd eat my beloved deceased pooch Patch before I touch another tin of supermarket-brand Macaroni Cheese.

There are times, in my life, that I'd trade my dream of Scottish Independence, for once chance at a pop at fucking Doctor Hilary Jones. I mean honestly, how much hubris is it possible for one man to have? He's like Pete Docherty without the redeeming musical features. A modern day Sid Vicious with a Stethoscope.

I WANT to buy food that's both healthy, AND tasty. Like that WW2 stuff our grandparents used to make. Not that worthless slop Jamie Oliver and GMTV wants us to buy.

You know, I was making this meat / pasta dish and I had a tin of chopped tomatoes. (oh yes... your narrator can cook. Anonymous comment makers are invited for a meal at chateau firefox at some point to prove this point...) So, I was making my meat / pasta dish. I was thinking about this tin of veg. Tinned tomatos are tasty. So I started getting paranoid... It was tasty, surely that meant it was forbidden. I mean, I wasn't entirely sure if tinned tomatoes was animal, vegatable or mineral or cereal or material. I mean... we don't know. Trivial Pursuit says it's a fruit, but Tesco has them pretty fucking near the vegatable bit for my liking... And bananas, apparently they're a herb. So does that mean they're better in my meat / pasta dish than the tomatoes, because they're herb and not a fruit? How does this work?

You can see my paranoia. And I blame Hilary Jones. Yes. Him, his botoxed lips and his vacuous sincerity when talking to Fiona Philips on GMTV. I've had enough. I want my tin of chopped tomatoes inside my meat / pasta dish with impunity and with NO GUILT.

My pal, Alyson. She's started going to the gym. She now looks superfit. All she eats are cuts of chicken. This complicates matters. Apparently if you're training to be a Motherwell UberAssassin then all you can eat is chicken. I didn't know this. I thought all you needed to be healthy and gym-like is a selection of food. Now, apparently, you choose just the one and eat that foreverandeverandever. Did I miss a meeting?

What happened to turning up on a day of the week and having a meal? When did it become necessary to be Doctor Who to work out what to eat? I mean, we're all told to take Banana's (for Potassium) and Milk (for Calcium) and Irn Bru (for Irn)... Why so many metals? What foods have Aluminium or Copper in them? Do I need some more Mercury in my diet? Can I live without Platinum? I know I should have SOME metal in my diet, I just not sure which metals or why...

And while we're on the subject, can someone please take all those paranoid reporters and their food scares and shoot them? I mean, I can just about take: "Don't eat milk that's three years past their sell by date... you'll die. Screaming." But the stuff like: "Eating too much broccolli turns you into Jools Holland!!!!" makes me want to kill people.

I advocate three food stickers: "Tasty and good for you"; "Meh" and "You'll love it and kill yourself." I could live with the third if only I knew what the hell it was....

Scottish GOVERNMENT

2007-09-02T20:51:00.001+01:00

This is a fucking red letter day my brothers and sisters...

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/scotland/6974798.stm

Yes, yes, yes... I know it's just a BBC article, but if it comes to pass, then it will mark a psychologocal watershed for the march towards independence. To get independence, in my view, you need more than just a vote. You need to hotwire the perceptions of the scottish people. You need to overcome three hundred years of failure and mismanagement to get them to believe, just once, that they are good enough.

And they don't. Yet. I think they WANT to, but haven't quite worked up the courage.

I just had a deja vu about something else, but we're not talking about that, we're talking about independence.

Think about it like this: imagine you not only had the army to defeat an emeny, but also the tactics. But you're only problem is that your army won't commit. If your eventual goal is to win the battle, then surely your first problem is rewiring the psychology of your troops so that they WILL commit. To me, calling a Government a Government is just that. It's about rewiring the perceptions of the Scottish Population. A next VITAL step is Scottish People seeing themselves in an International Context, like... say... a Scottish Six (featuring Scottish AND international news created by and from a Scottish Context). More diplomacy with Europe as well... but we're getting ahead of ourselves now...

Strange Cameraphone Photo

2007-08-31T18:41:00.001+01:00

I almost never use my camera phone, due to the fact I've got better ones. So what the hell is this?

EDIT: This just in... It's the lesser-spotted Maryhill Mob (in latin gerri trightupye) . It's Jaggy Cardoon Thistle! Woo hoo!

Mack the non-Rant

2007-08-30T20:08:00.000+01:00

According to my clustrmap thingy, not many Canadians read this blog. So... I say we get stuck into those workshy, anti-independence, moose-fucking bastards.... what d'ye say? No... oh well...

I'm going to introduce to you a series of random statements and you can tell me what you think of them? They've all been said, uttered or whispered at various times to me.

I'm going to make a rare disclaimer (usually I could care less about what the Sun and Record reading public thought about this blog. Fuck it... most of the time complain to the retard about this blog and see just how much of a fuck I actually give.) BUT, this time, the statements below are not mine. Don't be stupid and automatically assume I subscribe to the comment.

These statements are anonymous and will remain that way. I'm merely curious about your reactions to them...

English people aren't moving to Scotland because they're trying to colonise the place. They see it as being more white than England is, and do not accept multi-culturalism. They want the white Britain of the 50s television sold them in the 70s. English Incomers are in receipt of racism, they're the cause of it.
Prince Michael of Albany wasn't the true heir to the throne. You can tell by the fact that he's still alive.
Socialists who have hubris about their socialism and cringe about their Scottish do so because they prefer sleeping with Socialist Workers to Scottish Nationalists. It's tribal, Kenny, not politics. It never was, not now.
[In response to my self-righteousness about the SSP being more morally right than Tommy Sheridan] People have sex. End of. Are you fucking Jesus? Who gave you the moral right to judge a man when you've done the same? Even if he did, does the man not have the right to save his fucking marriage?
[In response a speaker talking about how Wallace was "watching" over us] If she starts talking like Derek Acorah, I'm leaving. [not thought provoking, but it made me chuckle]
If the Independence Vote in a referendum was closer to losing than winning, it would be better to sabotage the turnout and gain a short-term loss, than lose the referendum with a big turnout and suffer a long term one.
You want to know why people like Wallace? It's because they want it done. They don't want pussy politics, they don't want old men hiding behind democracy and pacifism that sold them out in the miners strike and the Poll Tax. They want one man, standing up, ready to fight and to say fuck you to the aristocracy. They want someone to give them their pride back.
[on why a person didn't vote SSP when I suggested it to them] They claim to be the party of the working man. But all I see is a bunch of people on benefits and incapacity benefit. Nobody seems to give a fuck about the working classes anymore. It's all about the underclasses. Where's our party?

So, reason for the disclaimer should be obvious. Anyone any thoughts? If you don't like using bloggers comments system, email me. kenny.sheerin@gmail.com

Joke

2007-08-29T23:33:00.000+01:00

T minus 24...

Meanwhile a joke from the Maryhill Mob...

A London lawyer runs a stop sign and gets pulled over by a Glasgow polis .
He thinks that he is smarter than the polis because he is a London lawyer and is certain that he has a better education then any scots polis. He decides to prove this to himself and have some fun at the Glasgow polis's expense!!

Glasgow polis says," License, please."
London Lawyer says, "What for?"
Glasgow polis says, "You didn't come to a complete stop at the stop sign."
London Lawyer says, "I slowed down, and no one was coming."
Glasgow polis says, "You still didn't come to a complete stop. License please."
London Lawyer says, "What's the difference?"
Glasgow polis says, "The difference is, you have to come to complete stop,
that's the law. License, please!"
London Lawyer says, "If you can show me the legal difference between slow down and stop, I'll give you my license and you give me the ticket. If not, you let me go and don't give me the ticket."

Glasgow polis says, "Sounds fair. Exit your vehicle, sir."

The London Lawyer exits his vehicle. The Glasgow polis takes out his baton and starts beating the sh*t out of the lawyer and says, "Do you want me to stop, or just slow down?"

Wikiscanner outs London Bias

2007-08-28T20:33:00.000+01:00

This the story of an IP Address. An IP address is merely the number identification of an internet connection. It’s like your National Insurance Number, but for your internet connection rather than your computer.

Wikipedia, where our story takes place, is an encyclopedia. An encyclopedia YOU can go on to, read and edit.

Wikiscanner is a tool designed to unmask anonymous amendments made to Wikipedia. The following list of amendments Wikipedia entries come from IP Address: 194.60.38.10

Or… as the RIPE IP Address database puts it:

netnum:         194.60.0.0 - 194.60.63.255
netname:         HOP
descr:           Houses of Parliament
country:         GB

Or more specifically:

person:          Jon Daniels
address:         Parliamentary ICT
               7 Millbank
               London
               SW1P 3JA

phone:           +44 20 7219 2001
mnt-by:          UK-HOP-MNT
nic-hdl:         JD2618-RIPE
source:          RIPE # Filtered

person:          David A J Hamilton
address:         Parliamentary ICT
               7 Millbank
               London
               SW1P 3JA

phone:           +44 20 7219 2001
e-mail:          postmaster@parliament.uk
nic-hdl:         DH849-RIPE
mnt-by:          UK-HOP-MNT
source:          RIPE # Filtered

Reference: http://www.ripe.net/whois?form_type=simple&full_query_string=&searchtext=194.60.38.10&do_search=Search

The Wikiscanner page I’m using for this search is located here (so you can check for yourself): http://wikiscanner.virgil.gr/f.php?ip1=194.60.38.10&nolimit=1

Tennis Player Andrew Murray is a Twat

This particular computer decided that Andy Murray’s NAME was wrongly designated on Wikipedia. It changed the Wikipedia reference from ‘Andrew “Andy” Murray’ to ‘Andrew “Twat” Murray’.

See: http://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?diff=prev&oldid=61357681

Labels: personal insults

Spinning the 40% Rule (Scotland Act 1978)

Spin is what Labour brought to the table when they were elected and you can’t accuse them of not applying the same rules to history…

The simple sentence “The British government rejected the referendum because the condition that 40% of the total electorate should vote Yes was not met, and the Act was repealed by Order on 26 July 1979” was rejected in favour of “The British government accepted the result of the referendum in accordance with the Act. Because the condition that 40% of the total electorate should vote Yes was not met, the Act was repealed by Order on 26 July 1979”.

See: http://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?diff=prev&oldid=52659490

Labels: Spin

Tommy Sheridan – Gang Bangin’

In Tommy Sheridan’s Wikipedia reference, surprisingly it wasn’t his old embittered amigos in the SSP who decided to play up the tabloid stories… but… er… the same British Parliamentary IP address as the ones listed above…

They decided to add: “The tabloid stories included allegations that Sheridan had seduced large numbers of young female SSP members, that he used call girls, and that he had accompanied journalist Anvar Khan to an orgy.”

See: http://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?diff=prev&oldid=9769410

Labels: personal attacks, defamation of character

Too much time on your hands?

Naturally whichever elected members or parliamentary researchers or millbank technicians altered Wikipedia, its good see they’ve got so much insight, wit and intelligence to keep the Union together…

http://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?diff=prev&oldid=30719253

Apparently BBC6 DJ Marc Riley’s musical are all “shit” according to someone called Tom Kiehl.

Labels: Don’t we pay you for something better than this?

The Militant War

In the 1980s the Labour Party expelled a particularly left-wing group of politicians from its ranks, notably people like Derek Hatton and Tommy Sheridan.

Over four separate edits, a series of names were added to the article to make sure no-one was in any doubt who the bad boys were.

This very British computer felt it necessary to tell tales out of school and grass up all the lefties who were chucked out of the labour party.

The baiting failed. The edit acquired “disputed neutrality” tag only succeeded in baiting Militants to actually expand the bloody article.

See for yourself:

http://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?diff=prev&oldid=74719741

http://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?diff=prev&oldid=74719842

http://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?diff=prev&oldid=74720560

http://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?diff=prev&oldid=74720997

And the current article: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Militant_tendency

Labels: Baiting the commies

The Shona McIssac Edit War

I’m not going to lie to you, I never heard of this wummin until she cropped up on the Wikiscanner. The first thing I noticed was the removal of criticism from Ms. McIssacs Wikipedia reference.

http://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?diff=prev&oldid=137413484

Fortunately though, sanity broke out and the same IP address deleted a fictional “she’s married to Frank Skinner” reference. Phew.

http://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?diff=prev&oldid=137413658

Er… then it deleted the rest of the article altogether…

I hadn’t heard of this wummin before and now she was disappearing before my eyes… Was she so anorexic that her entire history was disappearing?

http://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?diff=prev&oldid=137413803

Phew. Some nice editor who doesn’t mind people knowing his user name called “YJwong” then put it all back up again.

Until my current favour IP address deleted all again. Boo hiss. I was never going to learn who the hell Shona is at this rate…

http://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?diff=prev&oldid=137425292

By this point, clearly 194.60.38.10 is getting a bit sick of deleting everything and merely amends the web page by removing that strange reference that she’s married to comedian Frank Skinner by saying: “Deleted stupid and incorrrect reference to her marrying comedian Frank Skinner.” This technically is correct. Apparently she’s married to some guy called Peter. But since would clearly have preferred to delete EVERYTHING… I’m think “Hello Kettle? Erm… It’s pot. We’ve been talking about what colour you are…)

http://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?diff=prev&oldid=137434579

I left it there since I got bored… You can understand…

Labels: Censorship

2007-08-27T21:42:00.000+01:00

T minus 28 days...

Neurocam and Scotland

2007-08-26T21:43:00.000+01:00

http://www.neurocam.com

If you are 'cammer... this blog post is not for you. It's for my countrymen. I'm trying to change their perceptions. Fanks.

In the beginning was the word, and the word was: "Neurocam is not..."

But before we get to that, let me take you back, way back, to Danny Wallace. Danny Wallace was an English writer and comedian. He wrote various boy's adventures with his amigo, Dave Gorman and they both invented a genre of writing that would be copied ad infinitum by lesser comedians. They would document their escapades in book form as a comedy / information / travelogue. Danny eventually wrote on his own (like Dave Gorman would) a book called "Join Me". In it, he put an ad in a newspaper saying: "Join Me" and gave an instruction (to send a passport photo) and to send their address to him. The book documents his attempt to found a "nice" cult. He did so. You can find it here: http://www.join-me.co.uk

Robin Hely, an australian artist, launched a similar project in conjunction with a bunch of people I don't know called "Neurocam" an arthouse project aimed at changing the perceptions of whoever wanted their perceptions changed. They'd use lies, damned lies, obfuscation, espionage mythos and showmanship to "Derren Brown" the general public into compliance. The world would listen, for a time, and it was all secret and mysterious and lovely.

I joined neurocam for a couple of months, and still find myself lurking on their main board, the Neuroboards. Scotland has her own Neurocam, under different circumstances and different names. We have the Stone of Destiny and Roslin Chapel. But nothing modern, and nothing so imaginative. Neurocam is... Derren Brown. It's about using showmanship and creating something from nothing.

What I'd like, is for Scotland to do something as captivating and use it to change who we are. Why? Because we find ourselves stuck inside that moment from Trainspotting where Ewan McGregor / Renton says: "It's shite being Scottish..." We seem stuck inside our ain mediocrity and this depresses me.

What I want my bloggerino's to do, is to type "Neurocam" into whatever search engine you prefer and go down the rabbit hole for a bit. End up on blogs that speak in tongues and learn to be entertained by the name "Chris Titan" or "Teigan".

Finally... think what YOU can do with this new knowledge for your brothers and sisters.

Elderslie Autopsy

2007-08-26T17:57:00.000+01:00

Slight music review from Elderslie Wallace Day yesterday. One, Ted Christopher played two sets. One was good. The other was astonishingly good. Albannached played a couple of sets when they eventually turned up. It's the best I've seen them. They blew the roof off the feckin' place. I guess a bit of healthy competition from The Trybe and Clann an Drumma (who I like, but still maintain have a website designed by a five-year-old) is a good thing. Put it this way, I liked the set so much I'm going to try and incorporate it somehow into the novel I'm currently writing.

Anyway, march and rally were both good. The SNP old guard were out in force to flank David R Ross and the Wallace Society elite.

I managed to foist myself on the Feegie Park crew for the night and that was a blast... with the slightly confusing news that a certai RFS co-DJ emailed hunners of her friends to promote my blog and then subsequently sabotaged the entire attempt because I have a link... er... to her...

Props to the Wallace Society for conducting the only raffle in human history to give prizes to everyone in the room. Some of whom hadn't even bought a ticket. I got a bottle of Blossom Hill Wine.

Only thing is... I did the march and rally on autopilot. I spent the march talking to an SRSM amigo about secret behind-the-scenes stuff about fall-outs and shinto. At the rally I met a guy who used to be an old website I did. David Ross did a good job of spicing up his speech and making it good. Other ones though... I've heard it before. And we repeat it because it needs to repeating, because some people haven't heard it before. Billy Wolfe good inducted in the Nationalist Hall of Fame, which was good as well.

I just think we need something different. The parties afterwards: as nationalists, we could give masterclasses in doing shindigs. It's the bit beforehand which we need to work on. It's getting repetitive or just plain boring. This isn't an attack on Elderslie, that was a goody (not in a Bill Oddie sense, you understand). I'm thinking more about Glencoe last Feb. That was farcical and I was partially responsible. It's also the fact that the majority of the talking after the events is about the party afterwards. To me this suggests we still have some way to go selling the message. My enduring memory, though, will be a room full of hairy-knee'd-fundies grooving to Ted Christopher singing the theme tune to Balamory...

Elderslie Reminder

2007-08-24T19:38:00.000+01:00

Tomorrow. Elderslie. 3pm.

Go to Central Station, get a train to Johnstone. When you leave Johnstone, turn left. Follow the flags.

It's that simple.

(and thanks to Glasgow for the picture)

History is Dead / Secrets and Allegories

2007-08-23T20:55:00.000+01:00

"Libraries gave us power, then work came and made us free." Manic Street Preachers.

Democracy came to us, in it's present form, via the 1832 and 1868 Reform Acts (date for SCOTLAND). These acts successively extended the vote from Sussex males, to neuvo-riches males to the rest of the male population. Eventually it was given to women as well. Alongside this Education (the 1870 Education Act) would seek to educate the masses. Conveniently for people like me these concessions to basic human rights would come after a series of rebellions in Scotland and Ireland. Either way, the working classes in the 19th Century started to have a say in their own affairs, and be able to read and think for themselves.

Literacy, though, is not kind to history. Neither is the present. The John Maclean Society is dead, only existing in the shadowy heirarchy of the SRSM and even then... you can't just JOIN. The 1820 Society barely even warrants a mention on Wikipedia (which will talk about just anything). You can join THAT. While you can... There's even a Thomas Muir of Huntershill Society. But you can't join that, either. It's... secret. The only open, relevant and useful Historical Society today is the Society of William Wallace. Unlike the 1820 Society, it has at it's head the charismatic and alledgedly transexual (no... sorry... that was a joke, wasn't it?) David R Ross.

Why? The Republicans in Scotland exist in the shadows. Secret alliances, hidden agendas and politics for the future don't require propaganda. They require results, and sometimes allowing you to join a historical group isn't the best method of preserving the memory. William Wallace, on the other hand was too stubborn to concede, too stubborn to die when he was supposed to and too stubborn to accept what the hell anyone else had to say about Scotland if it wasn't in ALL our names. Each generation since his eventual death would resurrect him in their own image because of the stark, brilliant and easily malliable for their own intents.

What if I told you there was a veil in Scotland? Political movements behind and beyond apparently benign movements? Should I be posted as a David Icke in the making? I always wondered why the YSI disliked Siol nan Gaidheal. The Siol in my book were the good guys, the ones who silently built cairns, wore black t-shirts and made up the numbers at rallies that would have died without them. It can't have been because of membership, because the YSI were made up of young people, and the Siol have potbellies and drinking habits more akin to Hell's Angels than Student's learning the art.

I was recently told a Story about the Wallace Watcher. It extended something I already knew. At Cambuskenneth Abbey there is a Stone called "the Wallace Stone" where, if you bother to go, you will see a stone directly pointing at the Abbey Craig hill. It is said that one of Wallace's appendages is buried under it, and sometimes a White Rose, or a Thistle is left for him. A minority of people know this legend. Even less know the tale of the Wallace Watcher. On August 23rd, at dusk, a tall man, wrapped in Wallace Plaid in the Old Style, with his face masked by a scarf walks up from the Riverside Ruin, when there's no-one near the stone. He stops for a minute, withdraws a half-drunk bottle of Whiskey, most recently an old Glenlivit, and puts it on the Wallace Stone with a White Rose and a Thistle. He leaves via the Riverside Ruin and is never seen again until the next year. The story is so scant and little know that only those who have bother to go the Wallace Stone on the day can bear witness to the event.

History is the perspective of the present. It often doesn't matter how many people know the truth, but only those few who do.

Today I was in Cambuskenneth and I saw a man at the Wallace Stone, but couldn't see his face. Make of it what you will.

Harry Potter and the How Great is Britain? episode

2007-08-21T22:54:00.001+01:00

I have a source. We'll call him: "The Source". He sends me stuff that the British Government is using for Propaganda purposes. This piece is J.K. Rowling's top-secret sequel Short Story to the 7 Harry Potter books. It represents all that is Great and Good in Britain. It's about why we shouldn't be voting for Scottish Independence. It's about how we... You get the point.

Harry Potter and How Great is Britain?
Harry Potter was inside Hagrid’s cabin, at the start of yet another year at Hogwarts. He gazed upon Hagrid’s umbrella, which held the remnants of the wand which had been destroyed when he was a student, like Harry.

Unlike Harry he had bred a big, giant fuck-off spider using Genetic Modification and cloning techniques he had learned at various British Scientific establishments.

Harry was, at that particular moment, performing a “Wingadium Leviosa” spell upon a genetic experiment to see if it was possible to cross a House Elf with the lead Singer of Napalm Death and a Liberal Democrat Backbencher. He curious to see if you can breed something which won’t marry a fucking cheeky girl…

Harry left Hagrid’s cabin and decided to pay a visit to Dumbledore’s grave because Dumbledore died in the previous book. Harry decided to cry for a bit so that the readers would feel some kind of sympathy for a character who was a blatant rip off of King Arthur pre-Sword in the Stone (the event, not the crappy Disney movie).

Meanwhile, back in the Gryffindor female residence, Hermione Granger was speaking with Cho Chang.

“Hi Cho!” quoth Hermione.

“Hi Hermy” said Cho.

“Cho, I’m looking to move out of my parent’s house. Do Wizards do Council Housing?” Hermione asked.

“Yes they do,” replied Cho, “Why do you want to know?”

“Do they have the same rules as a muggle Council for getting a place?”

“Surprising they do!” Cho confirmed.

“That’s good,” Hermione giggled, “Because I’m going to get Ron Weasley to knock me up so I can get to top of the housing list and not have to wait in a list behind English people buying up all the decent properties and, frankly, because I just can’t be bothered!”

“But Hermy, do you know that the Child Support Agency is going to be scrapped and you might not be able to get money off Ron until the ministry of magic fails to replace the previous one?”

“I do, Cho,” Hermione verified, “Ron’s currently at the Career advisor about his future right now.”

Ron Weasley was sitting uncomfortably and nervous in Professor McGonagle’s Office.

“As the token Scottish Person in this series of books, I’m required to help you with your career advancement so that we can move this plot along and pretend that Scots are an important part of this fantasy British sub-culture.”

“Great, Professor McG!” Ron replied, instantly brightening up.

“So, Ron, what do you want to do with your life?”

“Well, professor, since I have ginger hair, stereotypes persist that I’m of Scottish stock living in England, so I’ve got two options, One, I sell Weasley Hollow for a bundle and buy a cheap Scottish Estate and get all my friends to move up nearby. Unfortunately we Weasleys have no money, so I’ve got secret option number 2. I’m in that minority of people who are predisposed by genetics to get schizophrenia from Skunk Cannabis, and therefore I’d like to smoke enough of it to become mentally ill and go on Incapacity Benefit for the rest of my natural life. Thing is, prof, I quite like watching Jeremy Kyle.”

“Go and see Longbottom, Weasley. Amongst other things, he’s Gryffindor’s dealer.”

Because of Neville Longbottom’s links to Loyalist Paramilitaries, he had TWO major items on his life at this point. Firstly, he dealt homegrown Skunk weed and gave half the profits to the Red Hand Defenders and was a screaming Nazi. Secondly, and currently he operated the “Fagwatch” website to out closet smokers. Presently he was trying to decide from a magazine clipping if celebrated German Socialist, Dramatist, Poet and all round good-egg Bertolt Brecht was a smoker or not. He definitely looked like the type to marry a Cheeky Girl.

He was interrupted by Ron.

“Dude, I need some…”

“This isn’t about that Schizo plan you’ve concocted to get yourself on Wizard’s incapacity benefit, is it?”

“Erm… Uh-huh.”

“Seamus told me. That was BY FAR the dumbest thing I’ve heard in years. For one thing, it won’t work. For another, Cannabis is used for several important societal functions. 1) If you don’t like Cannabis: throw out all your records. Most of those cats were high. 2) It makes shit musicians think they can play better and 3) It gives pretentious people a cause to unite around that will never succeed, but will keep them occupied enough so that they’ve avoiding controversial and “important” issues that might benefit them like health, education and communism.”

“So how am I supposed to get Incapacity Benefit?”

“The same boring, inconsequential way everyone else gets Incapacity Benefit. Get plastered the night before and lie.”

“So you won’t sell me any?”

“Nope. I don’t have to. It’s THAT easy to get it. And in doing so I’m breaking all kinds of CSTU regulations.”

“What are CSTU regulations?”

“Cannabis Sellers Trade Union Regulation number one: Never ditch a sale.”

“But what if you’re selling to a muggle copper?”

“Our best customers are muggle coppers! What the hell have you got against muggle coppers?!?”

“So why can’t I get some?”

“Oh. You’re going to get some. Hermione ordered you some Viagra. She needs a Council House.”

Harry, meanwhile, had received a curious summons from Professor Dumbledore. He returned inside and entered the familiar spiral staircase which led up to the Headmaster’s Office.

The current Headmaster, Professor Erik von Markovik had replaced Severus Snape upon the latter’s death. Professor Erik was presently tutoring Ginny Weasley and Cho Chang and so Harry was alone with Dumbledore’s painting.

Dumbledore wasn’t there. It was empty, except for a used Chocolate Frog wrapper. Harry stared at it for a second before approaching the table where the headmaster’s pet usually resided. Fawkes, the Phoenix, was obviously long gone. In it’s place was a pile of runes and a deck of cards. While he was staring at them, Dumbledore appeared.

“Harry…” he stated, almost ‘matter-of-fact’.

“I guess you already know I’m repeating my final year…”

“I do Harry. Do you know why I’ve called you here?”

“Because I had to spend an extra year getting bummed because this is a public school?”

“No, Harry. A dark enemy has appeared!”

Harry spat: “Voldemort?”

“No. Muggle scientists have combined two sets of DNA in a hybrid project aimed at matching Wizard culture.”

“Dear God Professor…” Harry said, shocked beyond repair, “You don’t mean…”

“I do, Harry. The Gordon Brown / Michael Portillo Hybrid.”

“It’s… It’s… inhuman! It will have the mathematics skills of your average big brother contestant, and the dancing skills of ‘South Park on ice’!”

“Yes, Harry. But there is a further problem.”

“It gets worse?!??!?!”

“The hybrid is protected. Harry… You’re about seventeen right now. The protective shield will be difficult to resist for someone of your age.”

“How do I break through.”

“I’ve no idea.”

“What’s the shield?”

Dumbledore ignored the question: “At one end of the room is the Hybrid. All you have to do is turn the life support off and to save us all. For reasons which should unclear to you, but strangely obvious to whomever has bothered to read this far… It’s the button marked ‘Vote Independence’.”

“God that was obvious…”

“I know, Harry, I know…”

“That was so obvious I think I need a shower!”

“Focus, Harry.”

“What’s the shield?”

“I cannot help you. You will need to see for yourself. Go to the Room of Requirements.”

Harry, predictably, went to the room of requirements. Maybe he sauntered. Maybe he marched angrily. Maybe he jumped up in the air and clicked his heels together in glee as if he was a gay jazz fan in a 1940s movie who had just been sodomised by Rock Hudson. Either way, he got to the Room of Requirements.

As promised, at the end of the Room was the Portillo / Brown hybrid. Harry, though, could see the enormity of the shield protecting it. It was designed purely for a 17-year-old boy.

The shield generator was a giant heart shaped bed with pink satin sheets. Inside the bed were Mary Kate and Ashley Olsen. Presumably naked. It would be fun finding out. In the background was the classic end-of-the-night School Disco anthem, the one where you danced with the girl you thought you couldn’t get with a hard-on as hard as a Mars Bar just out the fridge: Careless Whisper by George Michael.

Choose Independence or The Olsens… Harry was a half-written English fop designed for Children and fawned over by illiterati who frankly should know better, but either way he was naked faster than a bat out of hell that’s going home for a shag and some kraft cheesy pasta.

Professor McGonagle, however, was the token Scottish. She unfortunately wasn’t married at fifty and was probably a spinster. In my book she’s a lesbian and joined them. Harry thought “Fuck it… Three-way!” and got stuck in. Either way he was a Hogwarts legend.

Eventually…

“But…”

“Just do it, boy!” Professor Snape spat.

“But why do I have to save the day?”

“All I’m asking is that you TOUCH THE BUTTON marked ‘Vote Independence’. It’s not hard. Unlike what you USUALLY touch, you fucking Girls Aloud fan, you… You touch stuff all the time. That’s why we made you wear boxing gloves at night! Otherwise we’d be changing your sheets four times as often as everyone else and CSI viewers would be gathering around your bed with Ultraviolet lamps all the time.”

“Doesn’t Gryffindor usually do this?”

“Potter is too busy shagging to notice. And frankly, I’m the most popular character in the books, so at least ONCE I get some fucking glory. And honestly, it’s not like Daniel Radcliffe is GOING to have a career once this Shinto is overwith…”

And so, for once, Slytherin and Snape saved the day. Kind of.

Leaked Election Document...

2007-08-15T20:56:00.000+01:00

Oh. My. God. I finally got myself an exclusive... Following the recently Vichy Parly election loss by the Labour Party, there was an autopsy by Douglas "Big No Surrender" Alexander into how best to take the Labour Party agenda forward.

I didn't think I'd get it... but I did.

The Gospel According to Saint Bastard

The Following should be evangelised by the faithful

From Douglas “big no surrender” Alexander

Labour Briefing from Whitehall to Scottish Members
Holy City
Londinium

[Branch comments in quotes, “Big No Surrender” replies in italics underneath]

17 July 2007

Suggestions from the Scottish Labour Party Regarding Operation “Britishness is good… no really; listen we’re really really really nice now…”

Motherwell and Wishaw Branch (Jack “who’s crying now” McConnell’s branch)

“We need to focus people on traditional BRITISH business, and how they’re safer under labour. No-one else has done as much for the promotion of pinstripe kilts, having multiple Jaguars and the Durex Industry for all those trips away with your secretary than Labour has…”

BNS (Big No Surrender): [said with venom] Dear god Barbie, you really were a waste of oxygen, weren’t you? I remember our discussions on the election, your big plan was to say to the Scottish Electorate: “Aw c’mon…! They’re no’ nice…! Puh-leease?”

Paisley North Branch (Wendy Alexander’s Branch)

“We need to make virtue of the fact that Scotland in SNP hands is about as safe as getting Iain Brady and Myra Hindley to be your babysitters.”

BNS: Finally some ideas I can get on board with, sis. It’s brilliant, you’re a star! This is why you’re the primo nexto leadero… The Gigantic Tuna, the Fiona to Gordy’s Shrek, the chocolate body paint in that game we played as kids and promised never to talk about again. Oh, and Jack? Didn’t think you were going the same way as those guys in Red Sweaters in Star Trek? Didn’t think you were “Doing a Lady Di” or hearing: Tick tock tick tock…

Cumbernauld and Kilsyth Branch (Central Belt Clone Branch)

[like Sean Connery from the Untouchables] “You wanna know how to get Salmond? They pull a knife, you pull a gun. He sends one of yours to the hospital, you send one of his to the morgue. *That's* the *Lanarkshire* way! And that's how you get Salmond.”

BNS: Holy Buddah, I’d get more sense if I allowed a big brother Contestant to be an MSP in the Central Belt, wouldn’t I? But let’s be honest, Lanarkshire gets most of its best ideas from American films with Robert De Niro in it, doesn’t it? You remember that time during the election where we asked for suggestions how to beat Nicola Sturgeon and you suggested that she slept “with the Fishes” and we spent a thousand pounds on Private Detectives following the former lead singer of Marillion around for three months?

Trade Union Representation: Mr Norbert White-Flighty, Bsc, Ssc (Bronze Swimming Certificate, Silver Swimming Certificate) *that joke courtesy of BBC’s Red Dwarf…*

“Naturally the Trade Unions see Britishness in Marxian terms. Consequently, we need to batter some nationalists. The Trade Unions haven’t be THAT busy of late, so I suggest that London shuts down a few mines, steelworks, or whatever those bloody jockos are up to these days, so that we can get a good old fashioned strike going. This has benefits outwith the party though. Strikes mean that the Socialist Workers Party get to horizontally recruit some gingers and we get them in OUR party when the SWP has bored the living shinto out of them… I mean, you’ll be the one doing it, but we can still blame Bridget Sturgeon and get stuck in!”

BNS: When the great Architect was giving out brains, you didn’t even bother queuing, did you? I mean, the Labour Party got rid of most of the Scottish Trade Unions by Amalgamating them with English ones years ago, and Thatcher didn’t shut most of the Scottish pits because we’d already gotten there first! We just didn’t take the blame… Oh, wait a minute… great idea! Get that man a seat in Airdrie!

In Summary: Big No Surrender’s Jerry Springer Summing Up Moment:

THESE were the best suggestions. Pathetic, utterly reprehensibly bad. Sheer monotonous rubbish. Aside from sis. But she’s always been good: WORSHIP HER! Back when we were sixteen, and our parents planned our wedding before the Social Services became involved… [edited by Whitehall]

NODP Information Film... Ra Sequel...

2007-08-12T22:35:00.000+01:00

On this blog there appeared a film, which taught the unteachable how to burn union jacks.

Now I just had a idea.

I want the next one to be the "with a vengence" to it's Die Hard.

I'm the only person capable of doing this, precisely because of the sheer senseless disregard I have for my own well being.

Now I need ten disposable lighters, and some kindling...

Schmoozing...

2007-08-10T20:11:00.000+01:00

I've been ignoring you... haven't I?

I'm sorry. It's not you... it's me... You're a lovely person, honest. I've just been busy. There's been no-one else. I swear. Hand on heart... I know you've heard this before but I mean it.

Today I was in a meeting with the Director of Finance with North Lanarkshire Council. And my boss. Not the one above me, not the one above her but the one above that. Uber-Boss and Uber-Uber-Uber-boss and me in one office. Uber-uber boss was on holiday. In Rothesay. Or Crete. Dunno. We don't talk much.

Had my stash of sniper rifles, weapons grade skunk and subscription to "Nationalist Girls Digest" been discovered and was I in big big big trouble? Nope. Fortunately all three of those LUP (lay up points) are still safe.

Do I mention this to boast slash show off? No. I mention this to whinge. I bought a guitar about three weeks ago from John. It was nice and shiny and black and I practised without fail every day. Then I got a call from the Crazy Frog. Crazy frog say: "Protect the innocent. Uphold the law." And I did. Kind of. Just started actually... Crazy Frog is a Union Steward. I'm a union steward. But I was to talk to uber-bosses and ask why they were sacking 16 people. I did and they're not.

All of this means that for three weeks my nice shiny new guitar was loved, and played and cared for. And YOU were loved, and played an cared for. And for the past week or so, Bessie, as I like to call her... was unloved. She sulked in her rack. She didn't get to play my version of Flower of Scotland. She didn't get my to toy with the knobs on the amp which made it all distorty and nice and then to knock out possibly the quickest and noisiest version of Flower of Scotland you're never going to hear. She didn't get to get "Keep on Rockin' in the Free World" played with me amending the lyrics to "Na na na na Radio Free Scot-land..."

But I've been ignoring you for slightly longer. Now I've said sorry and I can turn bessie my shiny black guitar on with a clear conscience.

On some news note, you'll notice the "almost illuminated" section has gone. Byesie bye and hello cluster map. I have NO idea what it does.

The Drug of a Nation

2007-07-28T18:50:00.000+01:00

Think this post is about Cannabis? Nope. My views are my own and will be revealed come independence day... (although any users who know are welcome to post in the comments section...

Nope. This post is about Television. I was going over my television watching habits, since I've recently taken to playing enter sandman on Guitar during the 5:55pm repeat of Big Brother on E4. Then a bit of people are strange... Well... it entertains me at least.

But over the past two weeks, I've watched the entire series 3 of Battlestar Galactica, started Twin Peaks, watched my DVD boxsets of X-files (up to series 4) and the occasional program on Discovery.

Note very little Scottish there? I did as well, then ignored it.

Then I watched "Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip". For some reason I caught a bit of river city. The difference between the two is appalling. I know one's a drama and the other is a soap opera, but our Scottish TV show is so amatuer in comparison that it's not just a disgrace, it's an insulting disgrace.

We CLEARLY have a great amount of talent of writers in Scotland. You only need to read Alistair Gray's Lanark, or James Kelman, or Des Dillon to know that.

Why is our television so insulting to our intelligences? Where the fuck did BBC Scotland get the idea that it's viewers gave a rats arse about Roisin or Shellsuit Bob? Where is the intelligence, the irony, the brilliance that we're capable of?

Scottish Television output is shit. Absolute rubbish. It's not even intelligent for Kids. In America you get intelligent entertainment. HERE you get failed actors pretending they're teachers to pre-schools. We get forcefed rubbish and rigged gameshows, inane and pathetic soap operas which (if they were real) we'd all sell up and fuck off somewhere better.

I'm not even going to indulge Nationalist fantasies of a "Scottish" Channel, because brothers and sisters, that's not going to solve the problem. If all you're going to put on it is River City repeats and a film of how the Wasp Factory got on when it was on at the Kings then it's a waste of time, money and creative time.

This is one of those occasions when negativity is a GOOD thing. We need to tell our broadcasters that their output is shit. We need to vote with our feet and find something better to do. Instead of watching River City, support musical artists by going online and buying Trybe or Albannach. Instead of watching Heather Simpson purr all over John Smeaton email them and tell them that either she shags him on television or they start reporting WORLD NEWS from a Scottish context.

Go along to the Edinburgh Festival, and beside all the English on holiday, you'll find lots of Scottish Talent. If you see someone good, why not email BBC Scotland or STV and ask why THEY'RE not on television, and why they insist on boring the rest of us with all this Glasgow Vaudville SHITE.

The tragic thing, the really really horrendus problem we have, is that TV executives aren't showing what talent we have. Iain Banks has a plethora of brilliant novels that could be televised.

Imagine having the talent in a country and not being able to use it. We're living in it. Don't WATCH River City. Learn to HATE River City and all that it represents.

Historical Labyrinth

2007-07-08T19:34:00.000+01:00

“Never let it be said that any enemy of Macgregor ever saw him defenceless and unarmed,” [offending person shown the door] “Now it is all over - let the piper play "Ha til mi tulidh.” Alleged Last Words of Rob Roy Macgregor

Last night I memorised the entire list of the Kings of the Picts from the Pictish Chronicle. I’m not lying, it was a horrible experience. I was testing out some memory mojo I learned in a book, and surprisingly it actually worked. Drest, Talorc, Nechtan I, Drest 2, Galan, Drest 3, Drest 4, Gartnait, Cailtram, Talorc 2 and Drest 5. Look them on somewhere, cos I didn’t.

You don’t have to believe me. In fairness there’s no way for me to prove this outwith you turning up at one of the events I go to and asking me to do it.

The thing that I find interesting is all the wee details that I didn’t know about along the way. They get obscured by the Bruce and the Wallace and are the kinds of trivia I obsess about. Like Drest I. Drest I was apparently ruler over 100 years and won 100 battles. That, in anyone’s language is pretty cool even though reason dictates it’s probably not the entire truth. Eochaid (king of Picts AND Scots between 878 to 899) it is said, was expelled 9 years into his reign when an Eclipse of the Sun occurred. That’s fucking Hollywood right there. AND that we had a king with the epithet “the great”. That one passed me by. Apparently “Nechtan I” was “Nechtonius the Great” and founded Abernethy. Even Kenneth McAlpin didn’t get “the great” and he was King Swedger of the Swedging people.

But… now I’m just pointing out weird historical things I found interesting. Although you can’t tell me the exile during the eclipse wasn’t a haunting image… I wish I could paint… I guess that’s my point. If you explore Scottish history more, she sucks you deeper in….

" To a Scot, the past clings like sand to wet feet,
and is carried about as a burden.
The many ghosts are always a part of them, inescapable."
Geddes MacGregor

All our yesterdays

2007-07-07T19:08:00.000+01:00

"To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow; a poor player,
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
And then is heard no more: it is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing."

Shakespeare from Macbeth (V, v, 19)

We should be thankful that John Smeaton's senseless disregard for his own life should be so vaunted by Glasgow. Scotland's own Jack Bauer managed to translate ordinary petty violence into something acceptable. Fine by me...

You'll probably note a slightly cynical tone from me, of late. Not a great deal of jokes on here, and to be honest I don't feel like making any in either this, or any of the subsequent ten blog posts. After that, back to normal. But then I doubt you (if you're a regular) come here because you know what to expect. I don't do "safe and normal" in any conventional sense (thus the odd occasion when I post something embarrassing and delete it the day after).

When those civilians saw the authorities fighting with two Al Queda terrorists in Glasgow Airport, a few saw red and got stuck in. They were interviewed, written about, blog-stalked, and subsequently dispensed with. And that should have been it. But it wasn't. People were entranced, in every workplace, in every street, and practically on every scottish forum on the internet, the gallus wee rangers supporter was vouched for (presumably along with his accomplices) as a bona fide weegie hero.

Once, just once, the Weege would shake it's fist at the world and feel something it hasn't felt in three hundred years.

This IS, of course, in spite of the fact that we actually caused the problem in the first place. This IS, of course, in spite of the fact that we hadn't we taken the Spainish approach of "oh right. Imperialism is a bad thing. Okay, we'll stop and not get bombed..." I even heard the term "Blitz spirit" used as if it was a good thing. Blitz spirit is fine if you're using it against something that can't be avoided. It's great. But if your troops are the ones massacring the bosh to get some black gold for a few mad americans then where the hell is the glory in that?

Maybe the glory is in the fact that we've probably voted against it all and are ignored. The SNP are against the war, as well as a fair few of almost every party IN the Scottish Parliament. Maybe the glory is in the detail. No-one asked us, but no-one is going to fuck with us without impunity either. THIS bit, I agree with.

But my optimism only extends so far. What walking abortion takes solace from violence without trying to solve the underlying cause? At least the IRA had an objective... once... They wanted a united Ireland and used it until they realised their tactics were being impeded by a much more powerful security service. But can we vaunt our civilian heroes without trying to argue for a solution to the very thing which caused the attack in the first place?

Do you preach pull-out or extinction? What do you propose for Iraq, or Afghanistan, or any other country in the Middle East? Did you know that when the Muslims learned (back in historical history) that the Messiah was predicted to enter Jerusalem throught the eastern Golden Gate in the Bible, the Ottoman Turks sealed the gate shut and built a graveyard in front of it so that the Messiah would literally have to enter Jerusalem over their dead bodies... Nasty, isn't it? Almost as nasty and the hundreds of thousands Scottish Soldiers have helped massacre under El Presidente George Dubya! Proud yet? Still feel gallus?

It's a vicious circle of violence and no-one benefits. I'm not a pacifist, but I don't see the reasons for any of these deaths or attacks.

The only thing we, as Scots, have is each other in a community. If circumstances beyond our control target US, then it's right we celebrate protecting ourselves. Most of us would like to think we'd do the same. It's tribal, a common ID painting the blood of the aggressors onto your faces and roaring at the hills.

But then we're not exactly civilised, are we? No matter how much we pretend we still worship trees, rocks and pools of water. Your little Jesus Crucifix is nailed to a tree. Most versions of Christianity have that tree with or without a man on it. You worship the tree either way. Your baptism recreates that nice moment when pagans worshiped their local stream and your rocks are your altar. You even have a pantheon of gods and demi gods. Although chances are you call the "Saints". And we still squabble over the dirt of someone elses land here or there. Your heroes are the best warriors and you, inevitably, are Agamemnon in Troy.

Didn't Carl Jung call it the collective unconscious? Didn't Aristotle and Plato reveal it as archetypes? Can't you see yourself in every picture of every art gallery? When you smoke the weed to escape all this madness, aren't you just becoming Shamans and Druids again?

"A casual stroll through the lunatic asylum shows that faith does not prove anything." Friedrich Nietzsche