So this snuck out quietly at the bottom of page 2 of today’s Daily Record.
And like, we suspect, most of Scotland, our response was “WHAT?”
Back in the 1980s and 1990s, before the internet, scammers used to have to work a bit harder to cheat people than they do now.
A popular method was to advertise a “clearance sale” in the press. You’d see an ad in the Daily Record or a local paper for an event in a High Street location – typically a vacant shop – promising brand-new TVs for £20, microwaves for a fiver, toasters for £2.50 or whatever. So you’d show up on the day and it always worked the same.
There’d be the ringmaster on a raised platform, surrounded by loads of unmarked white boxes, and he’d start off by picking some “random” punter from the crowd and bestowing gifts upon him. This guy would walk away with armfuls of swag for £25 or something (doubtless just going straight round the back with them), and the real show would begin.
Next the ringmaster would say “Now, before we get properly started, who’ll give me £10 for what’s on my mind?” (that phrase, “what’s on my mind”, was always the same). And basically they were flogging a mystery box, invariably containing a few trashy trinkets worth a fraction of the cost.
Any chump who bought one would then be escorted out of the shop before opening it, on the pretence that the bargains on offer in these sales were so great that they were limited to one per person. (There was always security on the door, sometimes even cops. There’s nothing intrinsically illegal about selling mystery boxes, even mainstream chainstores still do it today.)
And that was basically it. The ringmaster would delay and delay, punting more mystery boxes and never actually getting to the bit where you could buy a specific item at a specific price, and after a couple of hours the event would close down and the would-be customers would disperse in disgruntlement.
Now here’s John Swinney.
He’s got a mystery box to sell you.
Genuinely, can anyone tell us what the heck this actually means?
Because to us, it’s just meaningless quacking to fill a void.
And now for tonight’s headlines.
Police Scotland have nevertheless denied that prisoners in their custody are being excessively pampered, following reports that a man was hustled out of St Leonard’s station in Edinburgh with an electric blanket over his head.
Meanwhile, following the Supreme Court ruling in the For Women Scotland case, the force’s HQ at Tulliallan was burgled by a gang of militant transactivists who stole all the toilets. Officers say they have nothing to go on.
More comedy news as we get it, folks.
Seamus Logan, an SNP MP of whom it has often been said “Seamus who?”, has an article in The National today categorically ruling out Scotland achieving independence via a democratic vote in an event fully recognised by the UK government.
That in itself shouldn’t come as much of a surprise to Wings readers, as this site has been documenting the SNP’s increasingly open abandonment of even the pretence at achieving independence for more than five years now.
Logan’s stance that if begging Westminster for another Section 30 doesn’t work (which it doesn’t, hasn’t and never will) then it’s basically impossible and we should just give up has – to anyone paying the slightest bit of attention – been official SNP policy since at least the resignation of Nicola Sturgeon and in reality long before then, and we don’t think it’s a coincidence that the party has lost more than half of its members and over 40% of its voters over that period.
Honestly, folks, I don’t even want to do this because almost nothing is more tedious for anyone else to read than two people having an internet beef – a lesson that I learned, ironically, from reading the site this post concerns, which does little else – but as well as reacting on a basic human level to someone being THIS deranged by hatred of you, it’s worth marvelling, like an elegant Victorian gentleman or lady taking a guided tour of an asylum, at how much insanity they can squeeze into a small space as a result.
And to detail the madness we have to start with that headline.
Tommy Sheppard knows a John Swinney you don’t know.
And who, conveniently, you’re not allowed to see.
We’re thinking of just handing over Wings to Grok for the summer so we can spend all our time feeding the swans, readers. Here’s what the Twitter artificial intelligence bot said when we asked it to assess today’s National front page.
Sounds about right to us. We’re off for a walk.
At first, this merely sounds like the worst day out ever.
But for supporters of independence, in fact it’s even grimmer than that.
Lacking anything better to do on a grey and cloudy day in Bath, we thought it might be a lark to go through every Holyrood constituency in Scotland and contemplate where it might go in next year’s election, based on the current state of polling.
And just to make things interesting, compared to our last assessment we’re going to give opposition parties the (often considerable) benefit of the doubt in a few seats for the sheer heck of it, and see if there’s any even slightly plausible outcome that means the SNP might win some list seats if all their voters vote for them on both ballots, or if they’ll waste a million votes for nothing and get dozens of Unionists elected like they did in 2021. [SPOILER: don’t prepare yourself for a surprise.]
Humza Yousaf, March 2024:
Actual result: Labour 37, SNP 9, Lib Dems 6, Tories 5. The two horses in the two-horse race finished second and fourth, and won just 19% of seats between them.
And here’s John Swinney a week and a half ago:
The two horses finished second and third.
The matter of whether Yousaf and Swinney are a pair of massive liars, or are simply hopelessly out of touch with political reality, is one we’ll leave to your own judgement.
One of the very few phrases universally recognised in Scotland but which will draw blank looks anywhere else in the UK is the dry, dark “Well, ye ken noo”. Until recently it had no equivalent that we can bring to mind in the rest of the English-speaking world, although arguably that gap has now been at least partly filled by the acronym “FAFO”.
(We try not to swear on the site, so let’s say it stands for “Fool Around, Find Out”.)
So now the smoke has cleared, the troops have departed the battlefield and the winner is enjoying the spoils, what did we find out on Thursday night, and what didn’t we?
Let’s assess the scene.
Wings Over Scotland is a thing that exists.
