Elderslie Reminder

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)

New Moral Saviours

“The greatest nations have all acted like gangsters and the smallest like prostitutes.” Stanley Kubrick

Yes… I can’t tell anymore whether the SNP’s austere sincerity since election is a good thing or an intelligent thing. They’ve managed to straddle public opinion with the high values and expectations of its membership, and crucially, the non-member fringe groups (of which I am a proud member of at least two).

The terror attack showed a Presbyterian restraint on linking the issue to Scotland’s involvement with the union. Clearly the SNP leader knew that its ousted Fundie wing would do that for them, and still be onside.

You’re wondering why, aren’t you? How can the fundies stay loyal after being chucked, or at the very least distanced? They do it for the same reason that Socialist Workers vote Labour in General Elections: to keep the ones they REALLY dislike out of power. For the fundies: that enmity is reserved for Labour.

The SNP approach, in my opinion, is a rather bi-polar one. The SNP acts all statesman, and allows fundies to whore themselves to the independence argument. For people like me: EVERYTHING is about independence. Two things happen: the SNP look like ministers (after 73 years of trying and dreaming) and finally get an official stamp. Also, the independence argument gets pushed, covertly by the SNP and overtly by bloggers, independentistas, anarchists, left indies, indy indies and whatever the hell I am this week.

I guess this is how a Socialist Worker must have felt in 1997 when Blair got in. Whilst Tony et al got their Special Branch Escort and their expensive Ministerial Suits; the Socialist Workers were putting on their lippy and mascara and trawling for business on picket lines and at anti-thisandthat rallies. I used to laugh, and now it’s my turn (and I was an SSP member…)

With the benefit of hindsight, it turns out three things happened to cause this:

1. Most of my friends are SNP supporters. They’re the ones in Black T-shirts and kilts, by the way. Siol.. Siol… Siol nan… etcetera. It’s part social psychology and part necessity to keep the independence dream cooking until it’s ready.
2. My amigos in the SRSM come under the second thing that happened. We were rather schizophrenic about the Solidarity and SSP debacle. Yes Tommy was a bit of a bastard. And Yes he is a great politician. But no MSPs got elected and one of those parties got less votes than the BNP. Everywhere. There’s a stark fucking reality check for you right there.
   
3. Combine this with cliché numero three and you have yourself a campaign badge for the executive whether you want one or not: “The enemy of my enemy is my friend.” This is a cliché whether you’re in Siol nan Gaidheal, a Dalek in Doctor Who or talking to that psycho in work you’d rather not, but you know pisses the boss off… But it’s still a valid tactical position.

“The profession of a prostitute is the only career in which the maximum income is paid to the newest apprentice. It is the one calling in which at the beginning the only exertion is that of self-indulgence; all the prizes are at the commencement. It is the ever-new embodiment of the old fable of the sale of the soul to the Devil. The tempter offers wealth, comfort, excitement, but in return the victim must sell her soul, nor does the other party forget to exact his due to the uttermost farthing.” William Booth

Jings Crivvens... help ma boab...

Like most people, I get that "Oh Jesus, what have I done?" moment on a Saturday or Sunday Morning. On one occasion it was a weekday morning and I had been sober for a month previously (but we'll quickly gloss over THAT incident...)

Anyway. Monday morning came and I was wondering why my bank balance was £40 under what it should have been. I didn't ministatment it like I probably should have, but ran through the events.

(...brief aside. The reason I didn't check my mini-statement was because I was reading a Derren Brown book and thought it's section on memory was so completely brilliant I would attempt to remember a line of Pictish and Scottish Kings going back to the start. Yes... it's geeky and stupid. But lets be frank: you're not reading this because I look good in speedos... currently I'm trying his techniques out and therefore avoiding anything that comes close to an aide memoire.)

Anyway, the missing £40 business. Nothing immediately came to mind until I was at an SRSM meeting on Sunday and got my usual ribbing for avoiding Kilts. This led me back to ebay (which I had signed up for drunk on Saturday night). This, in turn led me to the two (and only two) things I look up by choice on ebay: cameras and kilts.

In cameras I look for everything. Canons, Nikons, Leicas (drool), Hasselblads (megadrool)...

In kilts my tastes are very specific (and thus why I don't have one). I want a decent McNeill one. (cos of my gran).

Clearly though, through that rather desperate haze my judgement became impaired and I looked a "freedom tartan" kilt costing about £35 quid.

I could even remember the words that I used when I saw it. It was those words that have haunted me my whole life: "What's the worst that could happen?"

I don't even have a bloody sporran. There's a place in Barras I know for that. But can you wear kilts with trainers? I'll bloody have to. Fortunately the Siol prefer Black t-shirts to Prince Charlie jackets (which I'm sorry... make ordinary people look like waiters).

So there you have it... Scotland's worst kiltie ever... I'll be honest, in spite of my lost £40 quid I'm hoping it gets delayed in the post. Cheap kilt, cheaper sporran and converse trainers with black t? Whatcha think? [embarrassed]I guess it shows my priorities in life when the whole shebang costs less than my camera... [/embarrassed]

Yesterday

Yesterday, me and some fellow amigos from Siol nan Gaidheal were intent on visiting a certain Emrba Inn to bid farewell to a Canadian who had came, saw and fell in love with Scotland.

My own journey there isn't worth mentioning, but I'll do it anyway. A few weeks ago I noticed the shindig coincided with the week I got paid. As such I invited myself along...

Cut to Croy Station, around about three o'clock. I was due in Embra for four, so it was an easy journey. I nonchalantly ambled to the ticket desk where I was even first in the cue. It couldn't have gone better. When I was about to walk away the ticketmaster called me back. Dread didn't set in, because I already had my ticket and ten minutes for the train.

"There are coo's on the line in Polmont. Ye'll huv tae change there and get a bus tae Linlithgo."
"WHAT?"
"Coos."
"Coos?"
"Aye."
"How long is that gonnae take?"
"Nae idea."
"What do you mean you've nae idea?"
"Well... they're bussing you tae Linlithgow, right? Well... buses have less seats than trains do. And those trains have picked up people fae every station fae Glasgow to Polmont. There's gonnae be a queue."

I was meeting Pax, Radio Free Scotland DJ in Embra at four. And I hadn't brought his number. So, I texted someone I thought had his phone number.

Then the train came and I got on. I didn't get a reply when I got to Polmont. I didn't get a reply during the hour I was in the queue for the bus whilst listening to overpaid Scottish Parliament researchers bitching about their facile partners and how they couldn't go to some South American island this year (I shit you not...)

Anyway, on the cramped (frankly third world condition...) bus I got a text. "Pax is gonnae phone you." Three seconds later he duly did...

Me: "Aye?"
Pax: "MOOOOOO!!"

Cut to Embra and Pax's flat a good hour and a half after the telephone call. We're experimenting with some of the alcohol he's got at his flat in anticipation for the night ahead in our Embra Inn of choice.

I get confused when he starts setting up a microphone stand near to me.

"What ye doin?"
"Och, Leonna's doin the show tonight, but I'm pre-recording a segment. You're helping me."

The canadian who we were bidding goodbye apparently escaped this situation... My mumbled reply was muffled by Pax working out what song's he was using.

So, slightly the worse for wear I ended up not doing myself ANY justice whatsoever.

However, I DID discover that Leonna (DJ for the night) is a reader of this blog. Which is a bonus, because I didn't think many people did. And that's two people who's said: "Issat yours! I read that!" Maryhill Mob and Leonna... I'm almost up to ten readers!

It's been a few days since I posted last. What is there to say?

The SSPs showing in the recent election was shoddy. It was bad. Naturally I got my workmates ire and slagging for it. Quite rightly so... I expected more than was delivered. I don't think I expected the gubbing that was delivered.

Scottish Republican emailed this (and I got it in my email box as well) about Alan McCoombes reaction. I've got to admit that I was saddened by Carolyn Leckie greetin' about her result. When you lost because someone who is guilty is more charismatic than you it's a tragedy. And poor Alan has to mop up the tears and know that more people give a crap about the BNP (who outplayed the SSP) how the hell can you square that with the truth?

But despite this obvious defeat (and it WAS a gubbing...) I found myself going elsewhere for interests... I went to the Siol and the SRSM. A few of SRSM and Siol comrades have some good ideas to go forward.

This didn't stop me looking up some NLP and going back to some old Neurocam stuff (including their new video) I'm looking for stuff that's a bit more arty for this blog...

Anyway, am gonnae finish this wee catchup

If you tolerate this... then your children will be next

" Or like the snow falls in the river,
A moment white-then melts for ever;
Or like the Borealis race,
That flit ere you can point their place;
Or like the Rainbow's lovely form
Evanishing amid the storm. -
Nae man can tether Time nor Tide,
The hour approaches Tam maun ride..."
from Robert Burns - Tam O' Shanter

I've been here before. If the Pro-independentistas fall on friday night, I can already hear the tears and the anger. I can witness the hate against a unionist press. The press don't care, they are merely doing the jobs their bosses pay them for. I guess they don't realise how much independence means to those who believe in it.

I joined the SNP after the 1992 general election, because I was angry that "Scotland Free by '93" didn't happen. The first meeting I went to was only bearly quorate and there wasn't a great deal to do because the election was done and we were merely mopping up afterwards. I remember a list of people who didn't turn up at the meeting who hadn't bothered to send apologies. I didn't know them, and I wouldn't get to know them. They wouldn't bother returning to the Condorrat SNP while I was there.

And on Friday, I get to witness this madness again. Maybe, just maybe, the SNP will get in. Maybe the pro-indy vote will finally charge the fields of paper and council bureaucracy to finally go legit.

But the kicker is, that if we don't, we been campaigning so long we forgot that we are just flesh in blood inside. We forget that if the result doesn't go our way, some of our friends are going home and we won't see them again. Maybe that's the case for us, maybe that's the case for the Labour Party. We forget how much losing hurts because it matters so so much.

So, friday for me means one of either two things: one, partying like never before because once, JUST ONCE! we are ONE STEP closer to freeing our people. Or two: counting the dead from another lost election.

This is why I joined Siol nan Gaidheal and the SRSM, because IF the bad results come in, I know I'm going to see the same faces I did before the count started.

But how can be a doom-monger? That's patently pointless given the polls. Lets be clear: only a MAJOR screw up or MAJOR screw job can fuck the SNP up now.

You can list our oppressors crimes in an encyclopedia; you can list the things they haven't done in a library. This is the most egocentric election you have ever faced. Will you watch your country go down the fucking toilet and vote unionist one more time? Just in case...

No. VOTE INDEPENDENCE and believe in the future.

Vote Independence

The last thing our country needs right now is another three hundred years swearing fealty to unionists for simply being allowed to be a subject of Brenda Windsor.

I thought I would take this opportunity to address a few myths regarding Independence. In my own way... (ahem).

Myth 1: Home Rule means Pope / Prod Rule:

Dear god... this is by far my least favourite. This tends to centre around the West of Scotland and, frankly, should stay there. It's propagated by bigots who can't argue with you. It's directed towards their alcoholic neighbours and housewives who don't want to think for themselves. There... I said it. If you believe this: you are a moron.

I feel I should at least bother to try and refute this rather than just rant about idiots like this not being allowed internet access or telephones.

To my mind, we don't have the depth of division in Scotland that is apparent in traditionally sectarian countries. Yes, there is sectarian violence, but this has never been exploited by political parties, per se. The "myth" has proved to be a feature in some areas for the Labour Party, but by no means would I suggest that this is endemic in top levels of the party.

Equally, take politics today. Voters in Airdrie, traditionally "labelled" a protestant heartland got angry (and rightly so) against Labour in Karen Whitefields constituency precisely because she stood idly by and let Catholic Coatbridge build all it's nice shops, leisure centres, bowling alleys and cinemas while finding something else to while their hospital was shut down. Chances are that Karen's game is a bogey and the SNP will get Airdrie. Nobody brought up religion, if you read the local newspapers is bread-and-butter politics being discussed.

My reasoning is that you aren't morons. Yes, our system is complete shit, but I have a higher opinion of you than that at the first opportunity you'll wander off and batter the next ethnic minority at the first opportunity. I've sat behind you in buses. You're quite nice. Really...

Myth 2: Ooh... Nationalism... that's bad... that's like... violent and stuff...

This one rips my knitting as well.

After the Perth AGM of Independence First I was in a pub with a guy who I discussed my membership of Siol nan Gaidheal. He was a left winger and brought up the fact that we're all bad nasty fascists and racists and so were the SNP and... You get the point. This comes more from the left than it does the right, but it's pretty endemic. It usually uses "Yugoslavia" as the "Aaa ooh!" part of it's song.

My answer to that is this: all politics has blood on it's hands. The left winger who makes allegations of racism is conveniently forgetting the blood on his own hands. I'll bet he's wearing a Che Guevara t-shirt. How many people did Che kill? He led ACTUAL revolutions. Now... that didn't involve him going to Bolivia to sell copies of the Socialist Worker. He took a gun.

And all over Europe and North America you'll find a trail of blood attributed to Socialism. You'll find Germany's Red Army Faction; Frances Actione Directe (sic); Red Brigades here, there and everywhere. Diet Red Brigades, Cherry flavour Red Brigades, Maoists, Trots and Commies all of who have rifles under their beds. You can go up to the Northwest of America and find the United Freedom Front and Red Guerrilla Resistance blowing up and robbing their way through New York. Lets be honest, the death toll is fucking huge.

Swing to the right wing and you'll find the Conservatives. Nothing bad about them, surely? Surely that nice Dictator Maggie Thatcher, who managed - miraculously - to have two separate wars and not invade someone once, didn't have links to nasty violent political people.

It's best not to ask them yourself. They'll probably neglect to mention Enoch "Rivers of Blood" Powell and Oswald "Crazy Bastard" Mosely (who was a member for the Tories in Harrow... which was nice): posters boys of your friendly neighbourhoodie fascists: the BNP, C18, National Front. They also might neglect to point out that they've sat next to "Psycho fun boy" Ian Paisley numerous times in numerous parliaments.

Your ballot paper is drenched in blood from the right wing to the left wing. Since the SNP was formed, it has been the most consistent vehicle for Independence. And they got a parliament without killing anyone. A damn sight better than the one gotten in Northern Ireland which has been dumped more times than I, or my wheely bin has been. Equally, the organisation I'm a member of: the SRSM helped persuade the groups who formed the original SSP that independence was a groovy idea and that they should hop on board the Indy train and dance to crappy folk music like the rest of us.

My point to unionist is this: if you want to look for violent ghosts in shadows, you'd be better served looking in your own political parties rather than in my Pro-Independence belief system. Most of the unionist parties have had members who have either advocated or attempted to create rivers of blood.

Myth 3: We cannae afford it Captain... there's nae merr money!

I can't help being patronising sometimes. It's just who I am:

Oh really... the country who spawned the guy who INVENTED the Bank of England can't build a decent economy. The country who spawned THE OTHER GUY who first documented Capitalism can't work out how to pay the bills? (William Paterson fae Tinwald in Dumfries and Galloway founded the Bank of England and Adam Smith fae Kirkcaldy worked out capitalism an' that).

Frankly, if you're stupid enough to subscribe to that myth you just lost the right to talk to me.

Myth 4: Black Gold

I think I missed that meeting. You know... the one where it was agreed that your country has to have oil to exist. Or to economically proper...

Ssshhhh... I just had an idea. If you're Irish you'd better go read something else. By that argument we should invade so that we can liberate them from their "non oil"ness. It would be only honourable on our part. We'd be doing them a favour.

They've a successful economy and don't have oil. Hmmm...

Either way, there is NO PROOF being documented that Oil is about to run out in the North Sea. And if it does... So what? Other countries proper, why the hell can't we?

Myth 5: Passports and Border Guards

My good friend Alyson probably worries about this one. Her current squeeze, Stevie from Jasper Carrot country, might be affected by the very issue.

Aside from the fact that people living here would get naturalisation rights and nationality IF THEY WANTED IT... It's in most of the manifestos and press briefings.

Honestly, Pro Indy supporters are all rather Swedish and nice about this issue. We want to be cool and nice and groovy and don't want to make your life, like, hard... dude. We're all cool.

I can guarantee there won't be any sniper towers this side of Gretna at any time. If "Stevie" is stopped at the border, it's merely because I fancy his girlfriend and nothing to do with the fact he's English....

Glencoe Comment

I'd like to take this opportunity to put my "official" SRSM hat on and thank all members and friends who attended this joint event. I also thank you all for your patience with the traffic problems which caused the delay in the Glasgow contigents arrival.

Special thanks to Zed who gave a memorable and welcome speech. Thanks to Jim for piping for us (at pretty short notice as well I believe). Thanks to the Siol, Na Fir Dileas, Crann Tara and even the contingent from Embra Indy First who showed up. I've more than likely forgotton someone; best way to remedy that is to PM me who i've forgotten so that I can pretend I remember later on...

Donald was missed as he's currently skiving in hospital. We missed his historical input and personality. I'm sure he was sorry to miss the scattering of Dave Leadbetter's ashes (as well as a certain other event that happens at the end).

I'd also like to (publicly) thank Mr. Miles. Donald has been dealing with MM in helping to rebuild the SRSM Flag collection after a theft last year. If it wasn't for Mr Miles we simply wouldn't HAVE a flag collection right now. I'm not sure whether he would like be thanked or not, but he's been brilliant in helping us.

Most importantly, we were there to pay tribute to the dead of Glencoe and all others who have died because of tyranny in this country. We do it because we refuse to forget. We also refuse to consign those people to a history book. They were our brothers and sisters, and EVERYONE who turns up, does so because they recognise this.

We marched in silence. Well... you did. I didn't. I could hear Republicans marching alongside Jacobites alongside Socialists and alongside ordinary people. It should be incompatible. But it's not. Most of us believe in Independence. And we all were there for the same purpose. That, to me, was louder than the usual music we have playing when we march to the Glencoe monument.
Everyone there should be immensely proud. People were marching, some of whom want different types of an independent Scotland. But we all have the same respect for our ancestors, and I believe, for each other. I think the old Siol slogan (not sure who came up with it) "To act when words go unheeded" is most appropriate here.

I didn't get the chance to speak to everyone as much as I'd have liked, but I'll see you all somewhere else and make up for it.

I wanted to get a couple of things off my chest and "officially" thank you all.

Appendix: You won't recognise some of the names in this post. Use the links and investigate.

Blog and Forum Patrol

Fucking Great Maker...

The hits on this blog have rocketed over the past week.

It all started with the "Reasons for Independence" posts. Some dude posted the posters onto a Spanish website. Then I posted them on the Siol site. They ended up on ITWP and Our Scotland.

I've been avoiding Our Scotland because of the amount of Brits on the forum. I don't know why. I can't be bothered arguing any more. I want to engage and persuade those who want to be persuaded.

It came about because I'm finishing off my novel. It's a science fiction comedy. I'm redrafting key sections, writing out characters, writing plots in and getting it ready for publication on lulu dot com. Sometimes you stare at blank pages waiting for some kind of inspiration and getting nothing. I browse to break up the periods when there's just nothing there to write. I put up a post on a few forums asking for ideas for posters. It worked.

I've also been playing Max Payne 2: The Fall of Max Payne. It inspired the second novel: the one more abjectly about Scottish Independence. I need to finish one to get to the other. The next one is about a guy caught up in a coup d'etat on Scottish Independence Day. It's an intense thriller with a Noir element woven in. I'm intending it to be a shorter affair than the Rock X novel. Rock X took three years to write. It was a fantastic experience, and there's only three chapters waiting to be rewritten before I feel it's suitable for posting. I even have a cover artist and an online publisher.

Glencoe is upcoming. Feb 11 in the morning at Glencoe Car Park. Put it in your diaries and come along. Arbroath is as well, but we'll get to that later.

Forumwise I'm browsing the Siol Forum and the Firstfoot Forum. My two faves this month. The Siol are debating the Homosexual adoption issue more heavily than anyone else, and Firstfoot are being typically droll about the universe in general. That's why I like firstfoot. They balance out the serious stuff. Like I said before, my love affair with Our Scotland has diminshed because of the volume of Brits on the forum. I'd like to say I'm done with the lies and the propaganda. I still end up on there, sooner or later... Our Scotland is the Film Noir girl in my own Noir Cumbernauld Story. I shouldn't love her, but I do... I keep going back, falling into that canyon like a Wile E. Coyote when gravity kicks in.

Ted Christopher and William Wallace

Ted Christopher, widely acknowledged as a well accomplished mistrel of the Scottish variety, has a few interesting things to say about William Wallace at the few events I've seen him speak at.

I've seen him at Elderslie, Stonehaven and, more recently, at the Independence First march and Rally in Edinburgh.

He has a bit, where he mentions, almost in passing that politicians are as scared of William Wallace as they were back in the day when they had him brutally executed.

Every time I've heard it (and it's not been for the first time at Embra) it has been met with a general - and usually loud - murmur of agreement. I think the most precient, however, was at yesterday's rally. Maybe it because the Rally just about matched expectations, or maybe it was because the matchstick vichy parly was the background to his songs and views.

For me, the William Wallace I have read about would be rabble-rounding inside the chamber, demanding something a bit more substantial than pointless epitaphs on sporting acheievements being given cursory mentions as "Motions" inside something built for Scots designed by someone with the artistic eye of a blind banana inspector.

This, as I growled from the crowd at Bill Speirs at the Elderslie Rally, was Revisionism, which I usually despise. In my belief system, I can't 'argue' what William Wallace may or may not have done but seek to do what I believe should or should not be done. Therefore instead of William slamming the desks of Parliament demanding something better, then would I be willing to do it myself?

But the general agreement that Ted's words got, was a point that I took away from all times I've seen him speak it. It wasn't because they just wanted to give William a simple "gaun yersel" but because they actually bought into it. It seems astonishing to exist as a threat, 701 years after your own death. Robert the Bruce never achieved that, and he was the superior military tactician as well as general.

I think you could even see the spirit of Wallace inside Neil Caple as he spoke between each "act" and was, at one point heckled by someone who didn't know and cared less about. Instead he wanted him to make his points to "his face" and in due course sent him homewards tae think again. I've got to say I especially liked that bit. For info, if you're intending to heckle someone with a microphone, it makes less sense if the crowd can't hear you, no matter how benign and 'high brow' your points might or might not be.

William Wallace was walking amongst us in the crowd yesterday. The police were around trying to find him. He's still a wanted man, 701 years later. The real big yin still scares unionists and despite what Bill Spiers thinks, he still gives a fuck about US; unlike the Trade Unions, unlike the Labour Party, and unlike all the plastic unionists too delusional to realise that the day is coming when we shall rise again.