One year ago today, Nicola Sturgeon suddenly resigned as First Minister. And what a spectacular 12 months it’s been for the Yes movement since her departure.
That, of course, is a somewhat selective graph.
We long ago ran out of words to express the magnitude of the contempt in which the SNP now hold the people of Scotland. Which is unfortunate, because this probably calls for the invention of a whole new scale.
Shall we go through just a few of the more crassly insulting holes in this pitiful excuse for a cover story, just to pass the time while we wait for the former First Minister to appear before the COVID inquiry? We don’t know about you, but we’ve got nothing better to do.
Nicola Sturgeon is due to give her evidence to the COVID inquiry tomorrow – if, of course, she remembers anything. We’re awaiting, open-mouthed in genuine shock, her explanation for this.
Because try as hard as we might, we cannot for the lives of us bring to mind a single possible legitimate justification for a First Minister to do such a thing.
Alert readers may however note that 19 March 2020 was just four days before Alex Salmond was cleared of all charges, and might find themselves pondering the reasons why she might want to be in possession of a cheap disposable text-capable phone at that particular point in time.
On Tuesday 16th January the UK parliament put beyond doubt that their claims down the centuries that the UK is a respectful union of equals is, and always was, a lie.
This was the second time I’d brought my Scotland (Self-Determination) Bill before the house and there are various opinions floating around about the reasons for, and implications of, introducing the legislation as drafted. Wings kindly suggested I set out my reasons for bringing it forward for a second time, and why I consider Tuesday’s defeat in the chamber as a Pyrrhic victory for the union.
We make no apology for returning once again to the depressing subject of the Scottish Government’s proposed new law to ban “conversion practices”, because it provides such an illuminating microcosm of how far a once competent and widely-respected administration has fallen since 2015.
Emma Roddick, who is piloting the bill towards the statute books in much the same way that Mohamed Atta piloted American Airlines Flight 11 towards the World Trade Centre, is a 26-year-old who by her own admission suffers from a serious and debilitating mental illness that any sane country would regard as an insurmountable bar to political office.
Mike Russell, currently at the centre of controversy over his appointment as chair of the Scottish Land Commission, hit the political big stage during Scotland’s first ever SNP administration under Alex Salmond, whom, in turn, Mike had previously seen into office as Salmond’s campaign manager.
In 2007 he was appointed as Minister for Environment, then in 2009 he became the Minister for Culture, External Affairs and the Constitution, and his conventional ministerial career concluded when he went on to replace Fiona Hyslop as Cabinet Secretary for Education and Lifelong Learning until the end of 2014.
Following the 2014 independence vote, the pre-referendum era ended with Salmond’s dignified (albeit temporary) stage exit; Nicola Sturgeon took the helm and began to reform what had been left to her by her predecessor.
A core pillar of Sturgeon’s centrist reform was the construction of an almost entirely opaque ivory tower of power from which both SNP and the state would run their covert affairs with subversive, centralizing, strong-arm granularity, cleverly camouflaging its sinister implications from the public through cult-of-personality media management.
Instrumental in this, among a very few select others, was Mike Russell.
It’s rather apt that this happened on the last day of the calendar. Because it truly is the rock-bottom moment in the grotesquely sullied history of the Scottish National Party.
We’ve heard that line somewhere before, haven’t we?
Wings Over Scotland is a thing that exists.
