Guest post by Eva Comrie, long term SNP activist and an inspiration to many. A writer with her own unique style and humour.
TOO WEE, TOO POOR AND FAR TOO STUPID
When this phrase was coined, I would have been at best ten years old; one of the generation born to those deemed insignificant, impecunious, donurt, spawn of cannon fodder. The enemy, the baddies, that was the Union, the Tories, blue they were back in them thar days. They’re now also found to be red and yella, all yella bellies to be honest, loyal to an outdated relic of a Union living in past ‘glories’ content to surrender Scotland’s health and wealth to a greedy and murderous neighbour.
But a new species has been born these last few years – it’s the Scottish Nationalist deemed a superior type of Scottish Nationalist to others who considered themselves dyed in the wool ancient time served loyal faithful footsore worn out but ever optimistic Scottish Nationalists. And what a challenge it has been just to be traditional with values expecting transparency, honesty and full disclosure of financial positions and voting arrangements, resolutions and agendas. Those aspirations alone get you labelled a renegade these days.
I’m one of those Nats who finds herself shrunken by a little Alice in Wonderland magic ‘drink me’ potion in a tiny flask, I’ve been disappeared, into oblivion. I’m a member who puts her hand in her pocket, pays her dues, donates, encourages others so to do, gets sent the raffle tickets, but not the prizes, the bills, but not the perks, the orders, but not the rewards. Too wee. Gets to applaud, to cheer, but not to speak, shout, be heard – there to listen and to salute with a nostalgic tear in the eye, lump in the throat and a cry of ‘Wallace’ and ‘Scotland Forever’ as Trident continues to scream death upon the Clyde and hunger, want and disease ravage our land..
Too poor – that’s an interesting one; those who are not too poor have been enhanced by the rewards overwhelming unused mandates transported them upon to Westminster so to settle up, not down, to ditch devo for Indy, but temptation comprises seats with five figure salaries, expense accounts, credit cards, the comfort of working from home, able to dodge the mask wearing public, the virus ridden courts and panels, the schools, prisons, hospitals and places inhabited by the common people of Scotland, of whom we, the poor, remain the majority some 13 years into an SNP rule.
Others also not too poor are the young guns, straight out of school, or Uni, invited to run offices for MPs and MSPs, proffer advice as specialist advisors to Ministers and the First Minister whilst still wet behind the ears as others with decades of experience are left to moulder, their talents ditched along with their grey faces and wrinkled tired old heads. Those same youths are destined for greater things as older minds with experience of life, of success and failure, with plans, projects and hopes, recognise the invisible nudge sideways towards the dung heap. That’s not the Scotland I used to know, not the Scotland you or I welcome or desire.
And stupid – who’s the daftie? Three years now we have observed the unfolding of a stramash costing a fortune and we’re no nearer the truth today than we were at the start; our Ministers defy Parliamentary requirements of disclosure and our MSPs who fancy themselves quizzing as Perry Mason’s stand-ins aren’t fit to carry Petrocelli’s hod; today in that Committee was once more a national embarrassment, the quality of the interrogation was nearly as low as the nature of the responses; I saw deflection, deceit and derailment and this Scotland is the poorer for it. Not in my name. Not in yours either, but we’re paying for it, what a parcel of rogues, on all sides.
Millions spaffed in the name of justice? Justice would be better served if John Swinney sent Judge Judy a wee pleading text, set her up in Holyrood with a gavel and a clerk, a rusty typewriter and her bark. Otherwise, sack the whole bloody lot of them and start again. Scotland deserves better than a useless shower of halfwits devoid of skill, memory, ability and conscience. If that’s what Independence tenders, we need an 11 plus before any serving MSP or MP earns the right to stand for re-election. Then and only then might this country be saved. Otherwise, do a Belgium and we’ll manage without a Government, a border trench, some posts with flags, a date stamp and a nationalised printing press manned by the Brownies will do just fine. My campfire is alight. Get the Scottish Bluebells out, reclaim the right to burn and to boogie, before it’s too late.
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