Wings Over Scotland

18 minutes of your time well spent.

The contrast with Nicola Sturgeon’s platitudinous sloganeering yesterday is stark.

This legendary soliloquy never rang more true than on 23 November 2022.

Let’s be methodical about it.

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So it’s official – Scotland is not a partner in the UK, but a prisoner. Supposedly equal signatories to a treaty, we were in fact captured in 1707, with no hope of release other than at the whim of our jailer. It is an outrage, but a wholly predictable one.

Nicola Sturgeon could have put the matter of Holyrood’s legislative authority to the Supreme Court at any point since she became First Minister in November 2014. More particularly, she could have done so in July 2016, after the UK voted to leave the EU, thereby triggering a clear and explicit condition of the manifesto on which the SNP were re-elected as the Scottish Government just weeks earlier.

Instead, she’s wasted a decade of your time and probably sold Scotland’s future.

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So what are we expecting at 9.45am tomorrow, folks?

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A week ago, readers, I had not the slightest interest in bringing Wings Over Scotland back full-time. I had my Twitter account again and was having fun and I was happy with that. It scratched the itch of being able to engage with politics (and people) without the depressing business of wading in it for work.

Having enjoyed a summer of long sunny walks feeding the swans and refreshing lager shandies in riverside pubs, I was preparing to hunker down over the cold dark winter and finally get some much-delayed writing for the Wings memoir done.

And then I witnessed the quite extraordinary sight of an elected member of Parliament, in the shape of the SNP’s pico-witted ambulant brain vacuum Karen Adam, publicly gloating about having managed to shut down the voice of someone critical of her party.

At the same time, an extremely minor blogger (the word “rival” would be to over-dignify them) re-opened hostilities in his campaign of self-declared “open warfare” against this site, with a rapid succession of posts (just a few of dozens) forming such a demented scattershot tirade that to patiently debunk all of it would have taken until Christmas.

And I’ll be honest, folks, it all pushed my buttons a wee bit. It really shouldn’t have, but it was properly outrageous and I’m occasionally human, so I thought “Sod it, if I’m going to have to put up with all this crap anyway I might as well make it worthwhile”.

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Well, it looks like Wings is coming back, then. Blimey. So let’s see where we’re going to be picking things up from. Exactly eight years ago today, Nicola Sturgeon took over as First Minister from Alex Salmond.

How has it gone?

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The response to yesterday’s post was pretty unanimous. So let’s find out for real.

Wings Over Scotland has been produced for free for the last three and a half years. Our last operational fundraiser was in May 2019. Then again, we’ve been retired for nearly half that time, with only occasional new posts.

But Scottish politics has never been in a more dire state than it is now, with the SNP stolen from its members by a tiny cabal not interested in independence but only in power for its own sake and the “queering” of Scottish society, while the opposition is a worthless ragbag of hapless incompetents and the media is a national embarrassment.

And since Wings stood back from the fray 18 months ago, absolutely nothing has stepped up to take its place. So if you want the job doing, it looks like we’ll have to do it ourselves again.

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Good heavens, readers. We’re afraid we’ve rather been forced into yet another post this month on our decreasingly-dormant website.

As many of you have already noticed, just a week after being unsuspended by Twitter (to surprisingly unanimous approval in the media from friends and enemies alike, and from some startlingly unexpected sources), early this afternoon the @WingsScotland account was kicked out again. According to the only email Twitter have sent us the reason for the sanction was “ban evasion”, which is perplexing since they’d just lifted the ban and there was nothing to evade.

But the plot subsequently thickened as a procession of SNP types claimed to be responsible, all triumphantly waving completely different supposed offences, none of which we’ve heard anything about.

Naturally we’ve enquired of Twitter what’s going on, and will update you as necessary. But to be honest with you, folks, if the SNP are this desperate to silence our voice, maybe it’s time we thought about returning for good.

Is it time to blow three-and-a-half years of dust off the old Fundraise-O-Tron and get back to work properly? Or should we stay in peaceful retirement and just stick a post up once in a while when we feel like it? What say you, chums?

It appears the Scottish Parliament – the great and mighty engine of a proud nation’s democracy, with a declaration carved onto its very walls that it’s a place built for the people to peeble their representatives wi’ stanes should they displease them – is now such a fragile, cowering, timorous house of straw that polite middle-aged women are being ejected from its public galleries for wearing the wrong colour of scarves.

Although it’s apparently fine for the Parliament’s shameful excuses for lawmakers to use colours to openly display their own ideological allegiances to the other side.

We suppose we should be grateful nobody had any ribbons to hand, or a full-scale terrorist alert might have been declared, riot police deployed and martial law declared.

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As a rule I try not to respond to the literally dozens of deranged attacks on this site that are posted by James Kelly of Scot Goes Pop, but I really dislike being called a liar so I’m going to take a moment for this one.

James appears to have taken extraordinary offence to a two-paragraph stats post I put up to mark Wings’ 11th birthday this week, and has written two purple-faced rants about it. So for the record’s sake I’m going to comply with his demand as best I can.

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Stop us if you think you’ve heard this one before, readers.

Because you won’t be wrong.

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As you might expect, our return to Twitter yesterday caused quite a commotion among the more sensitive flowers on the social media platform. At the head of the pouting mob was of course our dear old pal SNP MP Pete Wishart, who was clutching his pearls as usual about such terrible elements as ourselves – “vile abusers” – putting people off independence.

And at such times, it’s useful to remember how much he cares about independence:

Because by his own admission, Pete Wishart would sell out Scottish independence at its most crucial moment for the sake of getting to wear the Speaker’s silk gown – adorned on special state occasions with golden lace, frogs and a wig – in the House Of Commons and uphold all its ancient traditions like a good little Briton.

Scotland’s whole future, 300 years of struggle to regain control of its own destiny, could hang in the balance, held solely in the hands of one man, and rather than disappoint the grey eminences of the British establishment and risk being frowned upon in their oak-panelled subsidised dining rooms, Pete Wishart would say “No”.

(We don’t know if you get an even bigger pension for being the Speaker than the £50,000 or so a year that Wishart will trouser when he leaves the UK Parliament after 20 years of spectacular non-achievement, but we’d be prepared to hazard a guess.)

There’s a word to describe people like that, which is never used on Wings, but we’re making an exception just this once.