Here’s an image we made back in October 2012:
It’s based on a graphic from the movie version of “V For Vendetta”.
One being shared by more and more Scots.
After all the unpleasantness of recent days we thought you might enjoy a bit of lighter viewing for a Sunday afternoon, so here’s an excellent short documentary about the Wings card game, “The Last Voter In Scotland”, which is padded out with background footage of a bloke called Greg something.
We think he’s some sort of computer guy.
If you’ll forgive one of my very rare switches to the first-person view, readers, I’ve found the last few days in the independence referendum particularly weird.
That’s because my current life is curiously mirroring my previous one as a videogames journalist. The gaming community is at present mired in a convulsive orgy of the most mindboggling horror over something called “GamerGate”, which I couldn’t even begin to decribe adequately to you, because frankly you wouldn’t believe me and I’m not sure the words exist to do it justice anyway.
By way of illustration of that fact, this article on games website VG24/7 is, genuinely, by far the best, most accurate summary and analysis of the situation that I’ve read. (Twitter followers will already have seen me tweet a couple of random samples of what’s going on. I urge you, if you can, to endure the entirety of that second link, and note that it’s had almost FOUR HUNDRED THOUSAND views.)
But while proving that the sort of abusive insanity pervading the world of videogames makes even the absolute worst of indyref name-calling look like two kittens with woolly hats on having a meow-off over who gets first shot at a saucer of milk, the core principles are the same – a tiny handful of total boneheads having their actions blown out of all proportion by the press in a shock-horror frenzy bearing no relation to the actual experiences of 99.9% of people.
Last week I was working in the tattoo studio and got chatting to a client on whom my colleague was completing a large, Japanese-style sleeve on his upper arm and chest. He was sitting upright in his chair, stripped to the waist, his new ink glowing.
We got talking about the referendum. Unusually, this guy was a No voter. I say ‘unusually’ because the vast majority of our clients in the studio are vocally keen Yes types. Perhaps there’s something in the inked person’s character – a bohemian or experimental quality that naturally favours thoughts of change or progression.
This guy was a very nice, friendly, middle-aged small business owner from North Lanarkshire. As a Yes voter, I try not to get too preachy on the subject in the studio simply because it wouldn’t be professional – I wouldn’t want to get into any kind of heated debate with someone I have to tattoo for hours on end.
Still, I lightly prodded him on some of the independence issues. I was curious to hear his perspective as I rarely encounter it in someone face to face.
“Bad for business”, he mumbled in an offhand way. “I just don’t like the sound of it”
One of the most commonly-observed facets of the independence referendum so far has been the lack of a real grassroots “Better Together” campaign, and as a historian of Scottish popular politics I’ve found myself pondering why there wasn’t one.
It’s not like there aren’t thousands of Scots who passionately believe in the Union and will be voting No, and are perfectly capable of arguing their case. We all know some – I certainly do, both family and friends. But there’s no organised grassroots campaigning of any serious note. Tiny handfuls of Labour activists, some of them shipped up from England and paid, have done almost all of the donkey work so far.
But as a historian of Scottish popular politics I should have an explanation, shouldn’t I? And when I had a think about it, something occurred to me.
Saluting one of our favourite movies of all time.
(The glasses are here. Well over 100,000 downloads so far today.)
Alert readers may recall that when the UK government announced plans for a £55m jamboree to mark the beginning of World War 1, on a date conveniently before the independence referendum rather than the traditional Remembrance Day in November, the more cynical of Yes supporters were immediately suspicious and/or angry.
But despite David Cameron initially announcing it as a “Jubilee-style” event that would tap into the celebratory spirit of the Olympics and might feature a star-studded football match (rather clumsily between Germany and England, rather than Britain or the Allies), the assurance was given that it would in fact be a sombre event respectfully commemorating the sacrifice of the dead, and definitely NOT a jingoistic festival of Britishness designed to influence the outcome of the vote.
Above is the video released by the “Military Wives” choir for the occasion, featuring Eamonn Holmes, Alan Titchmarsh, a George Formby impersonator and a dancing dog singing “Pack Up Your Troubles”, a jaunty song about what a jolly lark war is.
In a blur of media excitement this week about such stellar household names as Haydn Gwynne, Maggi Hambling, John Illsley, William Dalrymple, James Timpson, Amanda Foreman, Andy Puddicombe, David Rowntree, Bill Morris, David Goodhart, William Boyd, Tracy Brabin, Paul Cartledge, Glen Baxter and Andy Barrow* all telling Scots to vote No because they love us, an even more thrilling endorsement for the Union was largely overlooked – that of Dana Rohrabacher.
What do you mean, who?
Private Eye editor Ian Hislop hasn’t made much of a secret of his opposition to Scottish independence. The satirical and investigative magazine, which is normally so razor-sharp on all the failings and hypocrisies of politicians and the media, has been remarkably silent on the subject of the referendum for the past few years, which one might have thought would have given it enough material to go weekly.
So in that context of that self-imposed censorship, the BBC’s coverage of last month’s Commonwealth Games in Glasgow must have been really quite something.
Wings Over Scotland is a thing that exists.
