You may have read today that “Better Together” is planning a major “newspaper-style” leaflet drive for the release of the White Paper next week. Thanks to our ever-alert spies in the No camp, we’ve managed to secure a leaked copy of the text. You can read it below.
THE NORTHUMBERLAND TIMES: 19 September 2034.
It’s now 20 years since Scotland voted for independence and ripped apart the United Kingdom (the most successful union in 300 years). In 2016 it held the first ever election to an independent Scottish Parliament and the SNP, with leader Alex Salmond, were voted into office with an overwhelming majority.
In 2020, just before the end of its first term in office, Alex Salmond declared himself ‘Lord Protector’ of Scotland and disbanded the parliament in favour of a totalitarian dictatorship, just as Anas Sarwar had warned the day after the Yes vote. He is now referred to as ‘High Excellency’. Recently a document was found not far from the Wall, claiming to be written by (former) resident of Scotland Simon Macdonald.
“Today I’m making the journey from Glasgow to Newcastle. I’ve been looking for work for a while now as every facet Scotland’s industry (what’s left of it) has taken a succession of devastating hits. You just have to walk down the main streets of any town or city to see the effects of the Scottish Government’s disastrous economic policies.
Ever since the Corporation Tax cut of 2017 it’s been intent on pandering to the well-off and advantaged at the expense of the rest of the populace. A two-tier class system has emerged in the process; the top ten percent are prosperous, have a separate health system, education and enjoy lavish accommodation and recreation while the remaining 90% suffer in levels of poverty more reminiscent of war-torn African states than a 21st-century independent nation.
Paid employment is a thing of the past and only ever rarely available when certain projects of national importance require specific expertise or skills. The remainder of the time the populous is expected to work for food and shelter tokens which can be redeemed at the local magistrates’ office. If you haven’t worked enough or gathered enough tokens then whatever ones you do have are confiscated from you and you must fend for yourself on the streets.
There’s never enough work to go around and I’m not proud to admit I’ve been reduced to thievery on many an occasion just to stay alive. The poorer areas of the cities and towns are rife with such appalling conditions that council vans come round every two weeks to remove the dead from back alleys and motorway underpasses. The smell that used to be so overbearing you’d gag in the street. I hardly notice it any more.
I’ve heard stories from others about whole towns that have been completely deserted, every resident carrying what they can and heading for the suburbs of the cities looking for scraps or even just the promise of them. I’ve passed my fair share of cars parked at the side of the road with rubber tubes leading from the exhausts, whole families deciding to face the next world together than bear the brunt of a life confined to starvation and deprivation.
I’m not ashamed to admit the possessions left by these people have kept me alive from time to time. I’m still wearing the coat of a dead father I found in a Vauxhall Estate on an Ayrshire back road three years ago.
That was when cars still ran on the road, back when the petrol stations weren’t guarded and regulated. It was back before the Stonehouse incident, way before even Livingston. You remember all those folk who were telling us back then that the oil was running out? All those people who said the price would fluctuate and we’d be destined to an economic nightmare. We laughed at them then, we laughed and swallowed Salmond’s lies that’d we’d be awright. The oil was running out though, Darling was right about there only being 2m barrels, and that’s when the army was pulled in.
Checkpoints and searches, restricted passes and licence revocations. Christ they even kicked you out your motor if you were driving with less folk than the motor could hold. ‘Inefficient, wasters, the undeserving commuters’. Salmond’s private army was drafted in to keep the rest of us all in line. We fell for it, we fell for it all.
This was all just part of the plan to make the roads fit for only the richest. Look down any motorway or main road leading from one well-off part of town to another and you won’t see any abandoned cars. You’ll see fresh road signs, fresh paint and a whole load of lovely trees at the side of the roads obscuring the views of the tatty, poor towns and their miserable inhabitants.
Walk down those roads (if you can dodge the patrols) and you’d think we were doing grand. You’d think this independence stuff had been a success but in truth it’s all a mirage, for the benefit of visiting foreign dignitaries. Some folk are even saying that the oil didn’t run out at all, that a deal had been struck with Salmond to give it back to Westminster and screw the Scottish people.
I’m not sure if I believe that whole ‘Blacks Ops’ business but I wouldn’t put it past him. He’s sitting in his private castle now, ruling over the land like they said he would. It was okay in the beginning because we still saw him occasionally and his speech on Independence Day was inspiring; ‘A better country, a more prosperous nation for all’.
It sounded so good at the time, the street parties, the optimism. Regardless of how you voted in the referendum you were caught up in the atmosphere and the excitement. It really did feel like the early days of a better nation. How wrong we all were. It was all part of Salmond’s plan. He lured us in, he used us for his own gain and now he controls everything north of the border with a iron fist of cold indifference towards his people’s suffering.
I’m sitting in this stinking truck, crammed to the brim with folk like me making for the border. It’s a nightmare down there. They rebuilt the wall just like they said they would. It’s manned day and night. Searchlights and sniffer dogs and soldiers. They search trains and what few coaches there are still running these days.
The last of the planes left years ago and the last time one tried to make off without permission it was shot down over the Clyde. Down at the border if you don’t have the papers they send ya back and even then if you so much as cause a little fuss you’ll be carted off to a Curriculum For Excellence Education Centre and never seen again.
There was a rush on the wall a few years back, a few thousand folk trying to cross without papers, desperate to get over the wall and find some work. Not many made it back that day. I’ll make sure my head’s down when I get there.
I’ve not heard much from the other side or the rest of the world for about five years now. We don’t get television like we used to, since the BBC pulled out. The only sets that get reception are the ones in the ‘public notification points’ which are usually in the main cities or remaining productive towns.
All that’s on is that fat bastard telling us how great stuff is, how we’ve made a great go of this independence stuff and how proud he is to be Scottish. The internet – hard lines and wireless – all got cut or jammed to stop folk from speaking to the outside. Phone lines are only available to the higher-ups.
I’m looking out the tiny crack in the side of the truck now and I can see in the distance the monstrous wall approaching. A great big grey barrier stretching across the horizon. I can get past it. I’ve got the tokens and the papers and I’ve done too many bad things to get this far not to get through.
They say there’s work in Newcastle for those of us that can make it there. They say there’s a better life over that wall. Looking back at that referendum, at how it all went down, I’d do everything in my power to stop this country voting Yes. Everything they warned us about has come true. Why didn’t we just listen?”
No-one knows what has become of Simon Macdonald since this transcript was found at one of the border posts north of the wall. As it is Greater England policy to let nobody in to the country from north of the border, it is widely assumed he, and the rest of those from his train, have been taken to a CFEEC for “corrective enlightenment”.
If only the Scots had heeded our positive message and voted No.