If twice is a coincidence and three times is a trend, then these five recent pictures of “Saint” Jim Murphy – the martyr who endured an egging for all our sins – from the print media surely tell us something interesting.
In an alternative universe, Keir Hardie reacts to news of the election of Jim Murphy.
This is Tory activist Sarah Robb. She’s not a very nice person. (We don’t feel too bad about saying that, as she’s no fan of ours either.)
But, y’know, Tory activist, not a nice person – no news there, right?
We’ve been watching in some bafflement the continuation of this bizarre non-story from yesterday. (For which, incidentally, the P&J has published a correction today.)
As one in five Scottish children live in poverty and temperatures fall at the beginning of winter with many families facing the choice between heating their homes or buying food, Scottish Liberal Democrat leader Willie Rennie apparently arrived at the conclusion that the most important thing he could be doing with his taxpayer-funded time was occupying the Scottish Parliament with a demand to know (for no immediately apparent reason) how often civil servants had accessed Wings Over Scotland in the six months leading up to the referendum.
This really happened today:
Bagpipes! Haggis! Tartan! Whisky! Pretty sure we just got trolled, folks.
In the absence of much news, this morning we’ve been having fun with this.
One week after the independence referendum we posted about a fundraiser by the producers of Dateline Scotland. It was an unusual fundraiser, in that it didn’t promise to actually produce anything – the team simply wanted money to sustain them while they worked towards something much bigger. The fundraiser was a massive success, reaching more than three times its target in the blink of an eye.
And today the something bigger started to take shape.
If we hadn’t already been sure, this would have sealed it.
Because we all know what really happened in George Square last night.
Well, at least now I know how a bullet feels when it gets fired from a gun.
I got home on Saturday evening, and started with a wander around the former social-housing estate where my parents live, now bisected by walls and fences and hedges where people bought their houses under Right To Buy and privatised wee patches of once communal ground. The policy clearly didn’t bring the Tories the gratitude they’d hoped for. Somewhat to my surprise I counted 21 Yes houses to 3 No.
The next day I went to Glasgow.
I had a night off this evening, readers. Poker and banter and laughs (and a Chinese takeaway) with some chums, a quick stop-off to chat a bit of strategy with the Wings Fulfilment Department and then home. I was just a few yards away when a song came on the stereo and I had to change my mind. I stomped on the accelerator, turned the volume up so loud it was distorting my sense of smell and gunned it out to the hills on the edge of town at full tilt just to feel the cool night breeze and release the pressure.
This one’s for all of us.
Here’s an image we made back in October 2012:
It’s based on a graphic from the movie version of “V For Vendetta”.
Wings Over Scotland is a thing that exists.
