So, it being Good Friday, we’re definitely not going to receive our legal opinion before Monday now, so Wings Over Scotland will be shutting down, at least temporarily, on Sunday evening. No posts will be visible on the site and our Twitter account will be either locked down or deactivated while we await advice on whether either can return.
In the meantime you can hear of any developments, or get in touch, on my personal account @RevStu or on @TheGhostOfWings, both of which have had, or are about to have, all their old tweets wiped.
We’re not going to overdramatise, because we hope this is only for a few days. We’re optimistic that the Scottish Government’s abysmal, sinister and totalitarian Hate Crime Act, opposed across every sector of Scottish society and even by the police charged with implementing it, will not put an end to 12 and a half years of political journalism.
There’s a Calvin And Hobbes cartoon we like to post on social media when someone’s got themselves in such a pickle that they’re just flailing around desperately firing off every slogan, argument or insult they can think of to get themselves out of it.
More than three months have passed since Alex Salmond launched a lawsuit against the Scottish Government for its grotesquely botched handling of false allegations of sexual misconduct against him.
With Scottish politics currently in a completely moribund state, as the party of government disintegrates shambolically and the main opposition party keeps its mouth shut and its head down in an attempt to not destroy its newfound and extremely fragile status as a credible alternative, one might imagine that the political media would be desperate for the case to get under way and provide them with some juicy content.
So it’s slightly surprising that none of them has noticed the latest development.
As Twitter followers will have noticed, we’ve been busy this week with an extensive remodelling of Wings HQ, which involved the main computer being out of commission for several days while the office was basically torn down and rebuilt from scratch. (It seemed a good time to do it, given that there’s nothing remotely of interest happening in Scottish politics.)
Unfortunately the lack of activity on the site caused the comments on the last post to degenerate into the most wretched playground shrieking match, so let’s see if we can’t distract the children and talk about something else for a bit.
Particularly alert observers will have noted that Kezia Dugdale, the most spectacularly inept and unsuccessful Scottish political leader in history, this week demitted her role as Director of the John Smith Centre, which she was handed as an incentive to quit Scottish Labour after dragging it to 14% in the opinion polls.
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.
The Scottish Government’s website about its controversial and extremely disturbing new “conversion practices” legislation assures citizens that the proposal was formed after consultation with an “Expert Advisory Group”.
But all of a sudden it doesn’t seem to want you to know who they were.
It’s from a 2018 BBC3 documentary called Becoming A Trans Man – Leo. The 15-year-old child in the video plays with a Rubik’s Cube as Wolton, who was 31 at the time, enthusiastically grooms her into transitioning into a “man”, advocating chest binders, a double mastectomy and the irreversible mutilation of her genitalia (“Lower surgery – you want that”) that will, Wolton confirms, lead to her permanent sterilisation, as well as the destruction of her future adult sexual function.
The BBC presents it as a heartwarming tale of friendship.
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?
