Don't Read This

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.

Falkirk or Paradise?

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.