Six Figures and Counting… 

For once I got an interesting email this week in amongst the usual ones where I’m in for untold riches from some mysterious benefactor who’s chosen me to inherit their entire estate and the others threatening to expose hacked webcam footage of me “in action” while logged into my favourite porno site. I live in hope that the former will be true one day as the latter are just about bankrupting me. For any of my contacts who’ve witnessed my performance please be aware that it was pretty cold in the house that night.

Anyway, this one was titled “43,252,003,274,489,856,000“. Apparently this is the number of different configurations a Rubik’s Cube can have. No wonder I can’t solve the sodding thing. Naturally my first thought on seeing the figure was that it’ll end up being the final death toll from Covid in the UK considering how Johnson and his xenophobic, Etonian nut-jobs have handled the crisis. Imagine being faced with the biggest disaster in over a century and having THAT in charge.

Incredibly, he decided it’d be a good idea to come up to the grouse moors on Thursday and preach to us about how lucky we are to be part of their glorious union – broad shoulders, stronger together, etc., etc…. full house claimed. For their part, the BBC were giving it the full willie-waving routine about how The Empire’s vaccination programme was outstripping everyone else’s, particularly these beastly foreign cheppies in the EU.

Here’s a thought – what would you rather have: their vaccination figures or their death ones? Toughie eh? And how much of that “impressive” number of vaccinations is due to extending the time for the second jag out to 12 weeks contrary to the scientific advice? Need to get the headlines though.

No wonder they’re having to throw so much at the vaccination programme as they’ve totally lost control of the virus and it’s now a race to give everyone a jag before we all succumb.

Even now, all these months down the line… well, have a look at this from the pro indy site Grumpy Scottish Man. Both the site owner and his wife have recently come down with Covid. Read it and weep:

“Wife was in Ghana for a family emergency and was tested before she left and tested before she returned to the UK and was negative but when she arrived back in the UK said it was a joke. No temperatures being taken, no social distancing, no masks, no enforcement said she was really shocked and that is where she got it, at Heathrow. Said in Ghana it was totally different, one plane disembarks at a time, two people off at a time, very strict rules, UK nothing.“

Isn’t it amazing that people in a tinpot little African country full of “piccaninnies with watermelon smiles” as The Right Honourable Alexander Boris de Pfeffel Johnson might charmingly put it can be doing something right. Only 390 deaths as well. IN TOTAL.

From the start it looked like the Tories seen this more as an opportunity to enrich their friends and donors from the public purse by getting them to supply crappy PPE and track and trace apps that didn’t work, all the while seemingly believing that God would allow no harm to befall their sceptr’d isle.

More infections than Russia with 80,000,0000 less people? Still, at least nobody can throw having the highest infection rate in Europe at them as they’re not part of that ghastly entity any more. Always knew some good would come out of Brexit.

It’s been one monumental balls-up after another right from the word Go. At least a month’s extra warning and a big expanse of water all the way around so did they lock down? No, they continued to let folk pour in and didn’t even cancel major sporting occasions like the Cheltenham racing super spreader event. Herd immunity though. That was the way to go and we can’t help it if all these johnny foreigners don’t have the same iron constitutions.

Up here we’ve been performing proportionally better, helped to a great extent by our population not being as crammed together. However, as far as I can see we’ve mainly been going along with whatever England’s been doing rather than adopting the default position that they’re going to make a complete and utter howling arse of every major decision.

The Scottish Government were involved in 2016’s Exercise Cygnus which simulated how prepared the UK would be for a global pandemic. The final report has never been published, with Westminster’s Department of Health claiming that the report “needed to be kept secret so as to inform policy development“. I’m not sure why a government wouldn’t jump at the chance to say, “Don’t worry if a zombie holocaust is on the way, we’ve got you covered.”

So where was Scotland’s preparation? Oh that’s right – “immigration is a reserved matter” so we couldn’t stop anyone coming in. Transport is devolved though so maybe we could’ve prevented potentially infected people from getting in buses, trains and cars once they’d got off their aeroplanes and travelling hither and thither? Joanna Cherry even said, “There are things we can do…” but seemingly we lacked the will to do them.

Drastic action on the part of the Scottish Government would’ve got the whole country behind them in my opinion and both the Public Health (Scotland) Act 2008 and the Coronavirus Act 2020 gave them the power to take more stringent action at the borders. So why didn’t they? I doubt if even the most diehard Mail, Express or Telegraph-reading unionist would’ve been up in arms at not being allowed to die at the same rate as their kinsfolk down south.

Still, there’s talk of putting people into quarantine hotels soon. Reminds me a bit of that character C.J. from the classic Reggie Perrin comedy series with his zany mixed metaphors:

“There is no point, Reggie, in flogging a dead horse once you’ve bolted the stable door…”

It seems to me that the plaudits heading Nicola Sturgeon’s way for her “handling” of the crisis are more to do with her impressive communication style compared to the bumbling buffoon from down south. Let’s be honest though, it’s not exactly a particularly high bar is it? You’d need to be the India rubber man to limbo dance under it.

At the top of the post I mentioned the Rubik’s Cube. Did you know that no matter how mixed up it is, it can be solved in a maximum of twenty moves? We could’ve dealt more effectively with this virus while at the same time ridding ourselves of an irritating parasite with just one.

A Cybernat

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Scotland’s Finest 

Rabbie Burns walked into his local in Tarbolton and the landlord said, “Get oot – you’re bard…”

It’s Burns’ night tonight and that means the annual decimation of Scotland’s haggis population.  Have you ever wondered why there’s not a Wordsworth night, a Keats night or a Shakespeare night? Me either.

Quite a character was oor Rabbie. He certainly packed a lot into his 37 years on this wee corner of the planet. When he wasn’t getting drunk and nailing chicks he somehow found the time and energy to pen some of the most sublime verses ever committed to paper. Present day Scotland brings to mind these immortal lines:

“O wad some Power the giftie gie us
To see oursels as ithers see us! “

That’s a good point. How are we regarded these days? None too favourably as it transpires…

Little more than a month ago some Tory nonentity who represents Torbay was accusing us of wanting to rebuild Hadrian’s Wall while getting the English to pay for it. Bless his wee heart, he’s likely never been further up north than the English Riviera and was blissfully unaware of how much territory he was happy to cede to us.

In any case you’d think they’d be grateful as it’d help get their construction industry out of the Covid doldrums. Whether or not Newcastle United would be happy about having to apply to join the Scottish Premiership is another matter entirely though. Economic, historic and geographic illiteracy can be a lethal combination.

Anyway, back to oor Rabbie and did you know that nine generations after his death he brings just over £200 million into the Scottish economy annually? Nine generations! If he was alive today just think how many independence referendums he would’ve seen. In addition, his own brand is said to be worth about £140 million per annum. Thing is though, if they divvied it up amongst his descendants we’d probably all just get a couple of quid each.

So, in keeping with today’s theme I’ll make my own ham-fisted attempt at a verse. With apologies to the wee harvest moose who inspired his greatest (IMHO) work:

Britannia ye’re wan sleekit beastie
Wi noo a panic in yer breastie
Thou need na been sae ower hasty
Wi tittle tattle!
The Scots they will ver soon waste ye
In comin battle.

‘Twill soon be Scotia’s firm opinion
There’s nae mair need for this here union
And so will fa yer proud dominion
Built on these lies
How you’d insult yer ain companion:
“Ye’re subsidised!”

Aye that’s it. You could hardly expect me to keep it going for the whole 8 verses. Somehow I doubt if anyone will be reading these words more than 200 years after my demise either. Or even by this time tomorrow.

Be sure to raise a glass to one of Scotland’s finest sons tonight and in the meantime here’s a wee selection of pictures for you to enjoy.

A Cybernat

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So Many Questions 

It looks like the whole Alex Salmond thing is going to rumble on for a while yet with both sides of the Yes movement digging deeper and deeper trenches for themselves and glaring at each other across the killing field.

I was more angry than shocked when I first heard about all the ridiculous allegations against the former First Minister. I don’t know him and have never met him, but have always been a great admirer. I remember one day a few years back my then partner came home from work at the university: “You’ll never believe who I shared the elevator (well, she was American!) with today… Alex Salmond! What a nice man, we had a really enjoyable chat. Bet you’re jealous!” I was too. It never even occurred to me that the conversation could’ve gone: “What a sleazy bstrd… spent the whole time trying to see down my blouse!”

A few years before, the same lady had asked me, “What do you think of that Jimmy Savile character?” This was of course before what was now so obvious. I’d hardly got my answer out about how he was pretty eccentric but did a lot of work for charity when she got straight to it: “He’s a ‘kin weirdo! There’s something seriously wrong with him!” I suppose you could call it feminine intuition. Tends not to stand up in court though – “M’lud, the witness says the defendant is an absolute creepy bstrd who makes her skin crawl…”

Anyway, there are a few theories being put forward as to how we’ve reached where we are and I must admit that none of them make any sense to me. They mainly involve the long tendrils of MI5.

1. Nicola Sturgeon is a unionist deep cover plant and has been carefully groomed for this since she was a young activist by her handlers. Where this one falls down is how on earth anyone would know she was destined for the giddy heights since the SNP was then just an opposition party in a Scottish Parliament that was barely out of nappies. And that’s before they had to get her into any position of influence without the finest politician of his generation noticing something wasn’t quite right. And why would it be important to recruit someone like her when Labour were pretty much unassailable north of the border? And what if her life had gone in a totally different direction? She could’ve been dancing round her handbag to Come On Eileen at the disco one night when her eyes met Eric’s from Kwik Fit Tyre and Exhaust Services. They started dating, she quickly lost interest in politics, they got married and had 2.5 bairns and a labrador.

(Actually, as an aside, the laws of quantum physics allow for such a scenario. All possible outcomes exist simultaneously in an infinite number of quantum universes. Weird or what? Of course Douglas Ross isn’t First Minister in any of them.)

2. Peter Murrell is a deep cover MI5 plant whose specific task was to target and marry the SNP’s new rising star. Aye, I’ve actually seen this one!

“So how’s your love life, Nicola darling?“
“Well, mum, there’s this guy at the office keeps pestering me to go out with him.”
“Och that’s great!“
“Thing is, he’s a munter…”

It just doesn’t stand up to the slightest scrutiny. Again, they had to get their plant into pole position in front of all the other ambitious individuals that political parties attract while at the same time ensuring that he’d catch the eye of the anointed one. All under the watchful eye of Alex Salmond. Thing is as well, he’s not exactly James Bond. Only fair to add at this point that I’m no oil painting myself and the doctor was advising me to keep my face covered even before the pandemic started.

3. Alex Salmond is the direct victim of an MI5 plot. Why now? Why not around the time, say, of the independence referendum? Maybe that would’ve been a wee bit too obvious of course. However, why did Whitehall advise the Scottish Government against going after the former First Minister and then they did it anyway? It just doesn’t make sense.

Why after all these years working away from home down in London has there never, ever been a single complaint against the most investigated individual in UK politics? It’s well-known that there’s money on the table for anyone who can dish him. Do you think nobody’s ever tried to honeytrap him – him, the greatest threat to the British state that’s ever existed? And yet there’s been absolutely nothing. We’re then expected to believe that he comes back north of the border and suddenly starts behaving like a drunken sailor in a whorehouse after six months at sea, leaping on anything in a skirt? Must be something in the air up here.

Wings did a piece on this last year, detailing how this all started around the time of the Mark McDonald text “scandal” where a joke about a double entendre in a text message to a female recipient ended up being blown out of all proportion with him being made a sacrificial lamb as a new harassment procedure was quickly ushered in. The complaints about the former FM then quickly followed.

It’s maybe just as well that attitudes were a wee bit different back where I used to work otherwise I’d probably be fearfully awaiting a knock on my door in the middle of the night. My job was designing power supply units for combat aircraft and they had to go through rigorous testing before they could be signed off for production. One such test was maintainability where they had to be taken apart and reassembled within a tight timeframe. It just so happened that I had a bit of a crush on Fiona the maintainability engineer which made what follows that wee bit more excruciating…

She arrived in my workshop and announced that she’d forgotten to bring her ruler, could she borrow one and… well, you’ve probably got a good idea where this is going. Suddenly there was a voice, horribly like mine, announcing, “I’ve got a 12-inch one.” I promptly fled.

I’m not sure what was worse – the utter mortification or the realisation that I’d just given everyone else in the room at least six months’ worth of material.

I’ve been on both ends of far worse ones than that as well. Half the folk I’ve ever worked with, male and female, should be in jail going by the Scottish Government’s standards. However, I can truthfully say that none of them ever tried it on with someone who wasn’t even in the building at the time.

I get the feeling that this started as an attempt to ensure that Alex Salmond wouldn’t make a political comeback, but again I’ve no idea what the thinking behind that would be. He’d lost his Westminster seat and seemed to have moved, temporarily at least, onto pastures new in the world of media. Things then got completely out of control, a bit like a snowball innocently running down a hill and ending up as an avalanche. We’ve since had talks of cover ups and delaying tactics with people being called back to clarify what they said previously with many of them acting like they’d been prepped for the inquiry by K from Men In Black with his neuralyzer. It just looks to me like an initial attempt to keep a potential rival out the way didn’t just grow arms and legs but became a living, breathing monster with the potential to derail the whole independence movement.

Probably the best comparison would be to think Fawlty Towers, the one where Basil has pretended to forget his wedding anniversary and things get totally out of hand when he ends up having to concoct the most ridiculous stories to explain where Sybil has disappeared to, and you probably get the picture. I can’t see where a remotely funny ending will come from though.

A Cybernat

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Labour Pains 

Probably the daftest thing I’ve ever heard in my life was when the pizza delivery guy asked me what was the best way to get out of our cul-de-sac. I had to assume he wasn’t in the job to pay his way through his nuclear physics doctorate.

Now you might be wondering how on earth there can possibly be a link between nuclear physics and a post about the “leader” of the Labour Party in Scotland. Bear with me and all shall be revealed…

While the above may look like a graph showing the exponential decay of a radioactive material from which its half-life can be determined, i.e. the time it takes for half the material to decompose, it also clearly demonstrates the declining IQ’s of those charged with leading Labour since the formation of the Scottish Parliament.

Think about it. First we had Donald Dewar, aka St Donald of Anniesland aka The Father of the Nation. There’s no doubt that Dewar was an intellectual heavyweight but for some reason that escapes me he’s undergone deification since his transition from this life to the next. While his passing was of course tragic, he was absolutely no friend of Scotland.

This was a man who collaborated with the Tories back in the 70’s to keep the contents of the McCrone Report hidden. He knew the truth but instead chose to peddle the myth that an independent Scotland would be “like Bangladesh”. While he may have spoken passionately against the privatisation of public companies in the House of Commons, not averse to profiting through share ownership in them was oor Donald.

High point: being involved in the setting up of the Scottish Parliament, although certain sources would question his enthusiasm for the project.

Low point: It’s a toughie. It could’ve been the ridiculous decision to press ahead with “Donald’s Dome” when there was a perfectly good building ready and waiting to house the new Parliament. We couldn’t have that though as it was a “nationalist shibboleth”. Impressive use of big words aside it proved that “thae essenpee bastirts want it so we cannae have it” thinking was rife back then too. However, this paled into insignificance beside him redrawing the maritime boundaries which handed England around 6,000 square miles of Scottish waters.

Following Dewar’s unfortunate demise came ex-professional fitba player Henry McLeish.

Henry actually played for my hometown team East Fife many moons ago. I myself first graced the Bayview stadium in the late 1960’s (eek!) but I have no recollection whatsoever of a player of this name which means he’d either moved on by that time or he was absolutely rank rotten. I suspect the latter as that would’ve been good practise for his stint as First Minister. Probably best summed up as “He came, he didnae dae very much, and then he left.”

High point: can’t really think of any. Maybe not being Iain Gray?

Low point: expecting to run a country when he was unable to run his own constituency office.

Next up – Jack McConnell. I remember watching with bemusement as Union Jack took his vow as First Minister. After all he had previously proven unable to keep one he made to his wife.

He immediately set about reshuffling his team and the papers were full of how he’d moved his allies to certain posts and axed or demoted others who were considered threats to his position. Strangely enough, good governance was never really mentioned as a consideration. Proof indeed that Labour up here saw the Scottish Parliament as their very own plaything, a reward for those not considered up to the standard of seeking election to the real thing down south.

High point: the smoking ban in public places. Let’s give credit where it’s due, this was a most welcome piece of legislation designed to help Scotland’s chronic health issues. What a pity that attempts by a subsequent government to tackle the country’s drinking problem met with nothing but yah-boo resistance. Then again, this was naked self-interest You’d need to be well p*ssed to vote Labour.

Low point: returning 1.5 BILLION pounds of OUR money as he couldn’t see anything to spend it on.

After committing the unforgivable sin of losing control of Holyrood to the SNP, something the voting system was designed to prevent, McConnell resigned and handed over the reins to Wendy “bring it on, no take it away again” Alexander who helped make proceedings more interesting by regularly making a complete arse of herself in the chamber.

Touted as “the most brilliant mind in the Executive” by a fawning Scottish press while a serving Minister, she was also described as “having a brain the size of a planet”. To be fair the writer of this garbage probably got his metaphors mixed up and meant to say that her head could be compared to the solar system – predominantly empty space.

High point: seeing the writing on the wall pre-May 2011 and getting the hell out.

Low point: it might’ve been accepting the illegal donation which ultimately led to her resignation even though she did nothing wrong. However, I’d go for her Very Hungry Caterpillar speech while shadowing Finance Minister John Swinney: “on Wednesday he ate through post offices, bridge tolls, welfare and fairness, transport, energy policy, and questions – and that gave him a stomach ache, too.” MSP’s and viewers alike utterly squirmed with embarrassment.

Could they do any worse? Step forward the Gray Man.

It’s a real pity Iain Gray never became First Minister. He was going to create 250,000 jobs you know. In fact he was going to create so many that we wouldn’t have enough unemployed to fill them all and would have to start importing more from elsewhere. A truly radical idea that made you wonder why nobody else had ever thought of it. “A man of vision and integrity,” insisted the Daylate Rectum who would then say “Labour fought the wrong campaign with the wrong leader” just a day or two after the massacre. I doubt if even Kier Hardie in his grave is birlin’ as fast as that.

High point: behave yourself.

Low point: finding the courage that enabled him to walk the killing fields of Cambodia suddenly desert him when heckled by some protesters on the campaign trail. Will no doubt finish off his political career in the House of Lords as Baron Brown Breeks of Subway Sandwich Shop.

It couldn’t get worse could it? It did.

A woman with a guid conceit o’ hersel’, Johann Lamont took it upon herself to apologise on behalf of the people of Scotland for the release of the convicted Lockerbie bomber, seemingly oblivious to the fact that there was a Scottish election after said release at which her party was trounced.

High point: being made to look a divvy every Thursday. That really is as good as it’s gotten if I can use a word that dropped out of use around the time Labour had a policy other than “we want what thae separatist bastirts dinnae”.

Low point: everyone has a favourite, but I think mine was the First Minister having to patiently and repeatedly explain why all the steel for the new Forth crossing couldn’t be manufactured in Lanarkshire. He’d have been as well heading to the baboon enclosure at Edinburgh zoo and asking one of the residents to produce a dissertation on post-Renaissance Italian architecture.

Next…

Step forward Jim Murphy, the man who thought he could connect with the public by regularly getting snapped with a Scotland fitba top on and a can of Irn Bru in his hand. He was elected with 56% of the vote under the party’s electoral college system. This was the leader they’d been waiting for, the one who was going to put the SNP in their place. He did too – 56 of them straight onto the Commons’ benches. There’s that number 56 again, eh?

High point: dunno. I’ve had hangovers that lasted longer than his tenure.

Low point: having to delete a YouTube video he’d made around the false claim that NHS Scotland were cancelling four times as many operations as their counterparts in England was a belter right enough. However, this was eclipsed by his Comical Ali prediction that a late swing would save Labour in the 2015 General Election. He’s now believed to be happily retired living off his weekly Lotto forecasting.

Was there anyone left who’d actually want the poisoned chali- er, job?

hey actually got a couple of candidates, Kezia Dugdale coming out on top in the leadership battle. She probably then spent the year she was in charge wishing the “I’m a Celebrity…Get Me Out of Here!” opportunity had come along a bit earlier as dining on scorpion and tarantula bits would clearly have been more palatable than getting handed her arse every week at First Minister’s Questions.

Meanwhile her colleagues were continually thinking, “She’s Fkin Useless…Get Her Out of Here…”

High point: resigning.

Low point: the incredible achievement of taking a one-time political colossus into THIRD place behind the Tories. Could things get any lower?

Could they ever…

Richard Leonard was the next man in which was appropriate since his term in office was notable for infighting, internal plots, and his inability to grasp what was a devolved area of responsibility and what wasn’t. This latter quality was often supplemented by being temporarily unable to understand his own native language.

However, this long-standing member of CND knew enough about devolved matters to state that he would defer to the position of the UK Labour Party in the replacement of the Trident obscenity, defence being Westminster’s responsibility. Clearly a man adhering to the old adage, “These are my principles – if you don’t like them I have others.”

High point: let me know in the comments if you come up with one.

Low point: Taking all Kezia Dugdale’s gains in the Westminster election and losing them has to be a contender, but surely nothing can top leading his party to an incredible FIFTH place in the European elections?

Still, while we await the electoral asteroid that finally consigns Labourosaurus to extinction where they belong, it looks like the farce will continue for a while yet. Oh, and see that earlier graph where we plotted the leaders’ IQ’s? You’ll recall that we found them to be following an exponentially decaying curve. Did you know that the main feature of such a graph is that it can never reach zero? Ever.

Something tells me they’ll have a damn good go at it though.

And Then There Were Three 

I used to have a Genesis album of that name back in my teens and if one of the symptoms of Covid-19 is having no taste then it makes me wonder if the virus really is all that new.

That record popped into my mind during the week so I looked it up on YouTube and listened to one of the tracks. It hasn’t aged well unlike myself even though I needed a wee bit of patching up from our wondereful NHS by means of a cataract operation a few days ago. No doubt my hearing will be next after decades of listening to real music like UFO, AC/DC, Alice Cooper…

“Doctor, doctor, I’m having problems with my ears.”
“What’s the symptoms?”
“An American cartoon series with wee yellow characters…”

Or course a much more serious condition currently afflicts the Yes Movement. Normally when there are warring factions who are (or should be) aligned towards the same purpose you can get a split right down the middle with totally conflicting views about how best to reach the desired goal. However, at present there seems to be three within the pro-indy side so I suppose you could call this tripolar disorder.

One thing they all seem to have in common is that anyone putting forward a contrary opinion is immediately denounced as a unionist plant or a troll or having a hidden agenda to destroy independence. I myself was accused of the heinous crime of unionism one day when I disagreed with someone over the deifying of the First Minister. I’ve never been so insulted in my life. Well, actually I have… a few years ago at a party a lassie told me that if there was ever a global pandemic and every other male ended up looking like an extra from The Walking Dead, maybe then I’d be in with a chance.

Bet she’s bricking it now. Anyway…

1. There’s the “isn’t she wonderful?” brigade. Personality cults always make me uncomfortable. They seemed to start with Tony “she was the people’s… er, what camera am I on?… princess” Blair, visibly fighting to control his emotions with his wee bottom lip trembling. Thatcher scared me, but ‘kin hell she was nothing compared to that nutter with his eyes shining with messianic zeal.

These things rarely end well, resulting in serious disappointment for the ranks of the true believers. Regretfully I see some of the same sycophantic drivel surrounding Nicola Sturgeon:

“She’s our wee tartan superhero…“
“There’s one politician shining brighter than the biggest star…“
“Look at her wee face and tell me that this woman doesn’t care deeply about us all…“

Sorry, folks, but bleeuurrgghh! A very wise Facebook friend once said to me, “I judge a politician on what they do, not on what they say.” He’s got a point although there hasn’t really been much independence talk other than to tell us it’s all been shelved until Covid and its economic impact has been dealt with. Excuse me, but I would’ve thought that’d make independence even more essential than it already is? We can’t even borrow money to help us out of the financial mess being wreaked by the virus because – and just let it sink in – “the English willnae let us!” Is that acceptable to you? It’s not to me.

“Independence” appears to be as welcome as a discussion on a compendium of Lord Voldemort’s latest spells at the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Aye, but look at the polls – 58% Yes. So what? There was a 45% base to start off with, a xenophobic right-wing government in Westminster led by an utter buffoon determined to add calamity to catastrophe by continuing to pursue Brexit despite being offered an olive branch by Europe. Add that to their handling of the pandemic where they’re starting to record daily totals in excess of one thousand despite having the advantage of at least a month’s warning and a big stretch of water all the way round. Oh, and why not also add the demographics continually moving in our favour with the pro-union elderly being replaced with the pro-indy young then ask yourself why the polls aren’t at least at 68%.

2. There’s the “get rid of her” crowd. The problem here is that Nicola Sturgeon enjoys large popularity ratings and for some bizarre reason is getting an easy ride from the press considering what they could be flinging at her. Things can change quickly of course, a week being a long time in politics. My own theory is that the press are keeping their powder dry while the public are mainly concerned with the pandemic and the effects thereof. However, just wait until a few weeks out from the election and watch them go at it hell for leather.

There’s plenty of ammo too. As an example, while the general public outside of the political bubble might not be too focused on how wrong it is that willie-possessors should have the right to access women’s private spaces, mainly because they haven’t heard about it, you can bet the media will be letting them know what many in the SNP are obsessed with at the most opportune time. And this includes that vital demographic – women. This nonsense shouldn’t be kicked into touch because a certain group of people might take their vote elsewhere though. It should be discarded on the grounds that it’s absolutely batsh*t fkin mental.

Who do you replace her with? I honestly don’t know who could be a single, unifying candidate. Alex Salmond won’t return to the front-line in my opinion. Previously a divisive figure who some considered “smug”, he’s now been effectively taken out the game by the campaign to have him unjustly imprisoned. Like it or not, and it makes me mad, mud sticks. A lady friend said to me before the trial – “He’s a sleazy, dirty bstrd!” The same woman post trial – “I still think that… there must be something in it… all these women…” I’d imagine that viewpoint is widespread enough to effectively negate any threat from the former FM sadly.

Anyway, Nicola Sturgeon is not the Yes campaign. If support depends on her reading out Covid briefings and looking professional compared to an orangutan in a suit down south then we really do have an issue.

3. Last but not least we have the “Look, we know there’s some problems, but just shut up will ye?” group. Such individuals actually believe that if everyone keeps quiet about the glaringly open wounds then they can all be dealt with after a thumping great SNP majority has been safely returned to Holyrood. As mentioned above though, if the pro-indy bloggers know about them then you can bet the MSM do too and are just itching to get them into the public domain when the time is right.

These people think it’s wrong for the likes of Iain Lawson and Wings Over Scotland to ask questions about trivial matters like where has all the “ring-fenced” money for a second referendum gone, clearly never having heard the old saying “a stitch in time saves nine.” Even with my average writing skills I could come up with a hell of a lot of gleeful headlines that the papers could print just on that situation alone.

When you’ve got a boil you should lance it, not just expect that everything will be all right on the night with your New Labour sense of entitlement. Regrettably there are more than a few boils on the collective arse of the SNP at the moment, some oozing more putrid pus than others.

This article started off with a mention of Genesis and I think it’d be appropriate to sign off with the expectation that recent events promise that there are a few Revelations to come.