The Drug of a Nation

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

“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

"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

[whiteamerica]

"America is the only country that went from barbarism to decadence without civilisation in between" Oscar Wilde

Scotland has a strange relationship with America. On the one hand our socialist politics are entirely incompatible with their way of life, yet we lap up their movies, bands and pseudo-morality as if we were an alcoholic in an empty off license.

I can never get a handle on America. For the record, most of my favourite movies are American, but I despise almost all of its politics. I’ve friends who are Confederates and support it being broken up into its constituent parts. The rise of Microsoft and Haliburton is reprehensible to me. But the cultural contribution of the people is a great thing. “So wash you car in your X Baseball Shoes…” Yeah…

One of my favourite bands, Rage Against the Machine, have been guilty of being naïve and blurry on their beliefs. Their classic line: “Fuck you, I won’t do what you tell me…” repeated various times, is as vague as you’re likely to get from any cock rock band. But they combine Rap music with Rock music and quote communism and mention Carlos from Mexico. So that’s okay then.

Rap music though, is equally as a fascinating for a quick digress. This is street poetry corrupted by the iniquities of the American system. Bono can laud Martin Luther King all he likes, but the system he pontificates upon spawned Malcolm X and Cassius Clay when he refused to go to Vietnam. More recently it spawned the Washington Sniper and held court to a war of Gangster Rap musicians who decided that killing Tupac and Biggie whatever was more important than the street poetry.

But here’s my point. The declaration of Arbroath was the founding statement of America. We should, apparently, be proud of this. Scottish people were present at the signing and did this, that and the other. We provided the philosophy, yes, but that just makes us part of the blame. We provided tactics and expats for the confederates, so apparently we tried to be a part of the solution, but I guess the loss suggests the time wasn’t right. Either way we are the inheritors of our own mistakes. The Confederacy has itself to free, and we have ourselves to free. Little people in little houses with a few votes with which to free ourselves.

We are the seduced, the protagonists and the exploited. And in every Native American reservation, in every film, in every song, in every band, in every genre it spawned, in every cynical quote you’ll find on the internet, you’ll find Scotland’s influence. We’re the guilty and the victims. We’re the poodles who now bark at Iraq for the black gold. We’re the supporters of the CIA torturers of Guantanamo Bay. We’re the victims of suicide bombers. We reside in a bankrupt culture, alienated and pretentious without Embra Tattoo and Festival.

“Europe will never be like America. Europe is a product of history. America is a product of philosophy.” Margaret Thatcher

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

T-shirts...

Please find attached a new range couture from the Firefox Chronicles...

http://www.cafepress.com/ffxchronicles.146726673

It's stylish, cheeky and ultimately not worth the money you'll pay for it...

It's part of our "Richey Manic" range of t-shirt wear...

Situation Critical....

I'm not going to lie to you... the recent upgrading of the terror threat level worries me. Not because we're going to die screaming like pigs in an abattoir but because our personal freedoms are at threat and because we seem to bay for blood manipulated by the media against the wrong people.

It seems that I should therefore stand as the accuser rather than the accused. Who is to blame for the recent bomb attacks in London and who caused the situation in Glasgow Airport. Who's to blame? You fucking are.

Yes, that's right. And as V said in the movie "V for Vendetta":

"I suspect even now, orders are being shouted into telephones, and men with guns will soon be on their way. Why? Because while the truncheon may be used in lieu of conversation, words will always retain their power. Words offer the means to meaning, and for those who will listen, the enunciation of truth. And the truth is, there is something terribly wrong with this country, isn't there? Cruelty and injustice, intolerance and oppression. And where once you had the freedom to object, to think and speak as you saw fit, you now have censors and systems of surveillance coercing your conformity and soliciting your submission. How did this happen? Who's to blame? Well certainly there are those more responsible than others, and they will be held accountable, but again truth be told, if you're looking for the guilty, you need only look into a mirror. I know why you did it. I know you were afraid. Who wouldn't be? War, terror, disease. There were a myriad of problems which conspired to corrupt your reason and rob you of your common sense."

I saw a person I hold in high regard call for the expulsion of Muslims who believe in Sharia law from our wee bit hill and glen. Aye, we're scared, but should be become Nazi's in penance for our own crimes? We failed to stop our intervention in the American Imperialism which caused these problems... When we let airplanes stop at our airports to torture innocent people, should we hold SOMEONE ELSE accountable?

One of the bleakest artworks you can listen to is "The Holy Bible" by the Manic Street Preachers. I listen to it when I'm depressed. The main lyricist, Richey James Edwards, threw himself off a bridge by the time the Album was done and the band were touring. (Aye, I know he's been officially "missing" but I doubt he's out there, personally...) In it are horrors of genocide, anorexia, the holocaust, crime, prostitution and apparently socialists politics. The horror of the 1994 album could be the country we live in now.

And yet we want to blame someone else for it. You didn't vote or persuade your brothers and sisters nearly enough. Had you done so, you would have gotten the Independence we need to stop these horrible things happening.

But you CAN help. You can RESIST. This malevolence stems from USA imperialism. You can stop it. Not me, YOU. Don't go to McDonalds or Burger King. Don't buy the Newspapers. Shut down your shopping malls and go to local suppliers. If someone bitches about your local Asian corner shop, put them in hospital. Destroy the Capitalist banks. Make yourself truly independent of the system. Fight Racism. Fight Imperialism. Don't stand up and be Alex Salmond or wet Wendy Alexander. Stand up and be Calgacus. Stand up and be Rob Roy or William Wallace. Don't listen to the idiots who blame the wrong person, listen to yourself because deep down you know that the real enemy is lying to you through Rupert Murdoch's rags, and via the Daily Record.

Unicorn Bicycle

You can tell I couldn't think of a heading couldn't you? You're quite bright.

Anyway, to business. I couldn't think what to write. Was ALL out of ideas for blogging because of various creative things I'm doing and general laziness.

Two points: One, if you've linked to me, and haven't told me, please do so. I WILL link back. Mostly. If, for example you're a paisley co-DJ (or embra DJ) who's reading this, I will probably link back. I may have done, i've not checked. If you're a screaming nazi then chances are I'm going to pretend I've never read your website and go off and try and bit-torrent Blake's 7 again...

Secondly: who the hell navigated here using the phrase: "red light" blythswood glasgow? It came up on that mybloglog thing on the side. It's useful for seeing who comes and visits. Usually it either says "albannach tribal" or "kenny sheerin" or "funny family fortune answers" (no... really. People actually visit this site because of that). The Blythswood thing is because of my infrequent references to gonzo isn't it?

News... I should really say something other than this shouldn't i? Can't think of much. I did something today which means I officially ROCK. But I can't talk about it. Data protection. ho hum. You'll just have to trust my status in ROCKING and grown a smidge.

Are you interested in finding out the status of the novel?

Sack Kirsty Wark

http://www.petitiononline.com/by3w4rk/petition.html

This is the petition which, if successful, should help begin redressing the bias against the Pro-Independence Lobby. It comes after a hugely biased interview by chief Brownie Kirsty Wark.

Friday...

Okay. Friday. We liked Friday. Friday was most cool.

Firstly two incredible things happened. One: I got notification that my Novel was being sent to me in proof format. Secondly: my Kilt arrived and damnit... the feckin' thing fits.

Therefore, I'm now a published novelist with a Kilt. This, in most respects, makes me happy.

And then I went to a works night out. Various cools things happened at said night out, but the main problem was that some people seemed to get it into their heads that I was interested in work shinto.

Let me be clear on this: when fate conspires to meld Firefox with Alcohol at a "shindig" then he OFFICIALLY doesn't give a crap about work shinto. In fact, let me be the first to provide you with what the "official" position actually is.

1. Your work shinto has been officially labelled "blah blah"
2. Please write your "blah blah" on a sheet of A4 paper.
3. Fold your "blah blah" into an envelope.
4. Address your "blah blah" to "Blah Blah Administrator, 89 Blah Blah House, Blahblahtown, Govan, Glasgow, Scotland, G67 3BB"
5. Fanks very much.

Does that clear things up?

George Galloway

We've had a glorious text from a member of the Maryhill Mob. It involved a pisstake they made at George Galloway's expense... This is most cool. I've got a bit of audio I need to enhance, which I've emailed about here and there... If you're helpful in this dept email me. (kenny.sheerin@gmail.com)

Basically: George admitted to being a cunt and anti-Scottish. Kind of.

And, in response to the dude who suggested that I over mentioned a certain female name now and then: that is a scurrilous piece of factual accuracy which we'll discuss later. Hello to Karen, Claire and Sheila: work colleagues who claim to read this blog! (I fucking doubt it, but they can anonymously admit if they so wish...)

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Picts Ya Bass!

The Roman Legions tried in vain,
The Saxon, aye, and Vikings came,
Nane o' them could us contain,
Heed this gentle warnin'. (Clann an Drummer and / or Trad.)

This is the insides of the newly built Cumbernauld Town Centre. This was shortly before my friend Alyson heard me shout (in a rather loud voice) "Picts Ya Bass."

First off, let me apologise for my John Sweeney-like (him of the Scientologist docu) break into tourettes. If it makes you feel better, no-one noticed (or cared). But this whole crappy Roman obsessions rips my knitting.

The Antonine Wall (which the shopping centre is named after) wasn't the border marker that Hadrian's Wall was. It had more men pass through it than your average brothel on "freebie day".

It also ignores those rather groovy painted Celts who gave numerous ninth-legion lampings to those nice men in the Red Frocks.

I think what pisses me off is that of all Scotland's enemies they didn't pick a decent one. Sure, Rome was all macho and a Hannibal-bashing and a-Jesus-Crucifying all over the rest of the world, but up here the built a few forts, built a shit wall and often retreated back to man the main one, which I'm guessing was named after Adrianus Molus a thirteen year old geek obsessed with some girl and her infection box.

If you're going to choose the other side, at least choose the English. They were much tougher and far more windswept and rugged. And eventually those bastards would produce Monty Python.

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]

Alternative Olympics Logo (from the Chronicles)

Countdown 2

“I sort of felt sorry for the damn flies. They never hurt anybody. Even though they were supposed to carry disease, I never heard of anybody say he caught anything from a fly. My cousin gave two guys the clap and nobody ever whacked her with a newspaper.” Lenny Bruce – How to talk dirty and influence people.

1 - Welcome back online

How are you? Are you okay?

We have to get the technical stuff out of the way first; otherwise you might end up confused. You shouldn’t think I’m trying to patronise you, it’s just that someone around here needs help and it isn’t you, okay?

The reason you can’t remember your old pal Max is because you’ve had a slight accident. A rather monumental one, actually, I don’t mind admitting that. Mind you, it didn’t happen to me…

Most first chapters introduce one or all of the main characters: The first would be you. Fame at last! You are a legend! You are a god! You have had sex with all the people you have ever wanted, and felt warm and squishy in more than one dimension of reality.

That is the other point: you are not anything consequential where you are now. Nope. You are a nothing; zip; de nada; Count Zero of the Security-Guard Role Playing Club. Your ‘reality’ is so dull, so meaningless and so mind-wrenchingly pedantic it’s a surprise you’ve not actually committed suicide yet. Go and get that rope or those razor blades because it’s not getting any better.

I jest, READ ON...

Chaos Theory

Random Image

Dungeons and Dragons - The Bannockburn Rant

Maybe it's just me, but the fact that I don't get to go up the rotunda on the anniversary of the Battle of Bannockburn is even more soured by the fact that a group of jumped up Dungeons and Dragons fanatics get to ponce about with swords and their inept grasp of history while I'm stood outside.

Lets be brutally honest here people: Battle Re-enacting is one step up from Dungeons and Dragons and half as cool.

I want to go to Bannockburn because I know the history and know the importance of it's place in what made MY country. A group of Lord of the Rings fans get PRECEDENCE over me so that they can act all Frodo Baggins on the ground where my countrymen died... please... that's more than just an insult.

I'm sorry: do you see see HALFWIT written on my forehead? Can I not read the section about how much admission they've charged for this delicacy? It's great. I don't get to commemorate one of the most important events in my country's history AND if I want to get in I get to pay to watch something IMPORTANT being acted out by a group of self-important fuckwits who'd probably be more comfortable dressed up like Legolas and hanging out with a Lion, a Witch and a Wardrobe.

It was even better at the meeting concerning it. I couldn't say anything much at it. You've read my rant this far, you know why I remained silent. Those poor bastards at the NTS don't need me vomiting crazy all of their shit idea. Except for the miniscule detail that I'm right. That aside, I'm sure all those forty-something losers dressed up as King Hob and "I'm am completely not a whoospie" Eddie II will do a fine job. This is aside from the fact that the re-enactors, the NTS and those attending have all missed the point.

In almost every town across Scotland we have wee plaques up for our dead during World War One. I tell you what, why don't get some of our sixteen year olds. We dig a long trench, dump them in, starve them and hose the apex of the trench with machine gun fire so that they can get the full misery of World War One as well? After that we can get some terminally ill patients from hospital and show them what death is like as well? OR we could go back to Napoleonic times, pick a town and send ten thousand people picked from a phone poll to kill and rape all the citizens of a town so that they know what a Napoleonic siege is like?

You get my point? We rightly show our war dead respect. RIGHTLY. But not if it's long enough ago to make the NTS a few bucks. It's moral and social seppuku like this which is the reason I don't want to be British. It's because of the inevitability of shinto like this being done time and time and time again which pisses me off and makes me want to make a country we can actually be proud of.

My rant is almost over. But let me be clear: If you go along to this re-enactment. YOU ARE A MORON. You OFFICIALLY have lost permission to read this blog.