We’ve been thinking about this all morning, readers.
To the point where we’d vote for any party pledging to implement it at once.
My first ever real experience of politics was playing Dictator.
Originally written by Don Priestley for the Sinclair ZX81 in 1982, it was a simple text-based game which subsequently came to other formats including the Commodore 64, BBC Micro, Elan Enterprise and the ZX Spectrum, which is where I encountered it.
A little over two years ago, three SNP MSPs contested the leadership of the party in the wake of the sudden resignation of Nicola Sturgeon. All were full of grand plans and dreams for the future of the party, the nation and the independence movement.
None of the three is leader now, and in nine months’ time none of them will be SNP MSPs. Indeed, it’s overwhelmingly likely that none will be an MSP at all.
And that, readers, is not a sign of a party – or indeed a Parliament – in good health.
Don Paterson is a celebrated Scottish poet, writer and musician. The essay below comes from a new anthology of Scottish writers called Irish Pages: Scotland, and is reproduced with his permission.
Remember The Vow? Most of us have tried to forget it. This was Westminster’s Hail Mary as polling day approached in the 2014 referendum; a vote that Yessers – people tend to forget this part too – initially had no real expectation of winning, until an inspirationally positive campaign saw the polls draw neck-and-neck.
Then lo! There it was, splashed across the Daily Record: a fancy-font promise from Westminster party leaders that if Scotland voted to stay within the UK, we would enjoy new devolved powers. There was some other waffle about defence and opportunities and having an equal share in the UK’s prosperity. But the message was clear enough. We would be listened to.
Aye, right.
Well, Shauny‘s knocked it out of the park.
In the modern political world, you don’t get anywhere without a movement, and movements don’t get anywhere without a flag. So we’ve decided it’s time to take action and stand up for a very large group of people who are genuinely discriminated against and significantly disadvantaged in our society.
Here’s their symbol.
Today is July 1st, and we officially, on behalf of all our oppressed kinfolk, declare this to be People Who Aren’t Eligible For A Railcard Pride Month.
Holiday Boy has of course chosen the general election campaign to spend the next three weeks feeding stray cats somewhere sunny, so here’s a cartoon by the brilliant webcomicname that summarises the Baillie Gifford story for anyone joining us late.
Because, y’know, idiots.
As a writer, feminist and literary events organiser in Scotland, I’m regularly sent links to information someone thinks might be of interest to me. This week it was a document commissioned by one of Scotland’s leading and most powerful publicly-funded literary organisations, Literature Alliance Scotland (LAS).
Nobody, of course, objects to transgender writers being included or supported, but the content of the guidance raises several extremely serious and concerning issues.
As of last night, the Hate Monster campaign page on the Police Scotland website looks like this:
(Archive version here.)
He’s the cuddly, lovable character all of Scotland’s talking about, but what do we really know about the Hate Monster? Where did he come from? What’s his backstory? Well, the diligent research team at Wings have been hard at work, and we’re thrilled to bring you this rare archive footage of not one but BOTH of his parents.
Both were in the arts. Here’s his mum, Ruda (originally from Eastern Europe, escaping to the West before the Iron Curtain came down) starring in a 1952 Bugs Bunny short:
And this is his dad, in one of several collaborations with the Scooby Doo team in 1976 under his former wrestling persona of The 10,000-Volt Ghost:
Our boy was born for the stage. No wonder he’s made such an impact.
I’ve always been obsessed, in cultural terms, with pivot points: the precise moments at which something significant changes irreversibly.
They can be a goal that ushers in a football team’s golden era – for me, Alex McLeish putting Aberdeen level in the 1982 Scottish Cup final. They can be a twist in a movie, like (first example that comes to mind) the shocking revelation of the bad guy in LA Confidential. They can spring out of nowhere, like the latter, or be something that was visibly on the way but finally crystallises, like the former.
There are some great examples to be found in the world of pop videos, like the one 3m 40s into Pulp’s epic mainstream-career-ender “This Is Hardcore”. But for my money there isn’t one more spine-tingling than this:
(Warning: some adult content.)
Robbie Williams here is played by Humza Yousaf.
Wings Over Scotland is a thing that exists.
