In this scene, John Swinney is portrayed by Stewie Griffin (the baby), and the faithful membership of the SNP is portrayed by Brian Griffin (the dog).
We’re not sure any words are needed after that, but what the heck, we’re here now.
If you’d like to watch a 21-minute video of me banging on about Operation Branchform and whatnot to the Scottish Sun, click the image below.
If you’d rather not watch that, best not to click it.
We received two emails today, just a few minutes apart. There are a couple of notable things about them. The first came from Claire Somebody at the Crown Office.
The second one, even more thrillingly, came from Service Advisor 1989847 at Police Scotland, which we assume is some sort of advanced crime-fighting robot.
In one of those emails, readers, is a three-word phrase that raised our eyebrows just about right off our heads. Before we chat any more, see if it jumps out at you too.
John Swinney knows the rules. He can’t pretend he doesn’t.
So let there be no mistake about this: if Police Scotland and the Crown Office refuse to investigate the First Minister’s open public confirmation this week that a serious crime was committed by the SNP over the “ring-fenced” fundraiser money from 2017 and 2019, it will be beyond any fair dispute that Scotland is a corrupt banana republic where the powerful and the elite can simply do whatever they want, as brazenly as they like, and the law will turn a blind, uncaring eye.
Wings has today sent the following letter to the named recipients.
—————————————————————————–
The Chief Constable
Police Scotland
5 Fettes Avenue
Edinburgh
EH4 1RB
Crown Office and Procurator Fiscal Service
25 Chambers Street
Edinburgh
EH1 1LA
4 June 2026
.
Dear Chief Constable and Crown Office,
RE: REQUEST FOR CRIMINAL INVESTIGATION — ALLEGED
MISAPPROPRIATION OF RING-FENCED POLITICAL DONATIONS
I write to request that Police Scotland/COPFS open a criminal investigation into the alleged misappropriation of funds donated to the Scottish National Party (SNP) on the basis that those funds would be held and applied for a specific, designated purpose.
If you subscribe to the theory that it’s better to fight 100 duck-sized horses than a single horse-sized duck, the SNP is knocking it out of the park today.
Because the papers just can’t make their minds up about the biggest story with which to attack John Swinney’s beleaguered party.
Sometimes you have to wait a while for people to catch up.
But patience is everything, readers.
All things, we hope, come to those who wait.
On Sunday, Nicola Sturgeon told Laura Kuenssberg that the SNP’s accounts “went up and down” as her excuse for not noticing that hundreds of thousands of pounds had suddenly vanished from them overnight.
Several things leap out immediately from that clip.
One, there absolutely very much WAS “something glaringly suspicious in the accounts that I should have seen” – the party she led had raised almost £700,000 in two “ring-fenced” fundraisers that wasn’t there any more, which ought to have made its leader at least mildly curious.
And two, attempting to fob responsibility off onto the independent auditors simply won’t wash. It’s not their job to determine whether the SNP has kept its political promises or not, their job is simply to match up money coming in against money going out and produce a set of numbers to show what it all adds up to. It makes no odds to them if it was spent on a party conference, a fancy motorhome or a 50-foot golden statue of Danny La Rue. All they can see is numbers.
(In any event the party’s longstanding auditors resigned in 2023 rather than risk being caught up in any more dodginess. It took months for the SNP to find anyone else willing to take the job on.)
But even leaving those things aside, if we’re going to learn anything about how The Great Indyref Swindle got to this calamitous point unchecked we need to examine just how hard Nicola Sturgeon had to look the other way to fail to see what was going on literally under her nose and literally in her own back yard.
To tell you the truth, readers, we’re suffering from a little bit of option paralysis at the moment, although happily not in the same way Peter Murrell is.
The endless torrent of revelations following on from Murrell’s conviction a week ago isn’t just fascinating in its own right – it also forces numerous historical issues to be seen in a new light. At any given second there are half-a-dozen different articles we could be writing, but also so many to read that it’s hard to find the time.
We suspect this matter is going to run and run all through the summer silly season because there are simply so many angles and so many unanswered questions.
Wings Over Scotland is a thing that exists.
