Hambaws

The Scottish media has been in SNPbaaaad overdrive because Michelle Thomson MP has had the party whip removed while there’s an investigation into the role of her lawyer in her property dealings and because Fiona Hyslop gave government money to the organisers of T in the Park. It’s the worst political scandal since the last time someone in the SNP was accused of anything, which was yesterday, and there weren’t even any pigs involved. Labour was calling for Michelle Thomson to be thrown out the party and hung out to dry within five minutes of the news coming out, although strangely it took them somewhat longer to take action on Eric Joyce.

We’re positively drenched in the SNPerniciousness, it’s like the rain in a Scottish summer, so all pervading that you scarcely notice it any more. It has long since passed the point where anyone cares. Even if someone in the SNP were to shag a pig live on Scotland 2015 while offering to do a secret deal with Vladimir Putin, half of Scotland wouldn’t care. Och Davie Cameron’s already done that, bloody Unionists, they’d say. And they’d be right. You’d think this would be a signal warning to the media about the dangers of crying wolf, but they can’t help themselves.

The reason for the SNPocalypse is to distract us from far more interesting scandals, like the self-immolation of the Labour party, the descent of the Tories into porcine putrescence, the continuing irrelevance of the Lib Dems, and the final decline of the British state into the laughing livestock of the planet. It is of course a well known fact, at least in Scottish media circles, that the individual failings of a single SNP politician means that Scottish independence is a non-starter, whereas the systematic, repeated, and institutionalised misbehaviour of generations of Westminster politicians is merely a series of personal lapses and no reflection whatsoever on the moribund and mouldy British state.

Westminster’s personal lapses grow ever more spectacular. This week Davie Cameron wanted to participate in the Parliamentary football match but was told he wouldn’t be allowed as he’s got previous for ham baws. Glad that’s been cleared up then. He got an oinkment for it.

Another personal lapse which is no reflection whatsoever on the collective behaviour of Westminster MPs, and certain not Fluffy Mundell who just happened to share an office with him, is the on-going court case against Alistair Carmichael. The judges have refused to throw the case out as the Karmakoala’s lawyers had argued, and have said that they need to hear the evidence before they can make a ruling. The prospect that Alistair may be oot on his ear looms ever larger.

The exploration of the evidence is going to be pretty tricky for Al, since the evidence largely consists of him explaining why he told a porkie almost as embarrassing as the one that is suing Davie Cameron for alimony in the courtroom next door. Meanwhile a team of archaeologists has descended on Orkney, hoping to unearth a shred of Alistair’s dignity, however all they found was the remains of a pig in a compromising position with the skeleton of the last voter who thought the Lib Dems were a worthwhile proposition.

We’re now faced with the prospect of seeing Alistair have to explain why it was OK for him to lie through his teeth to the electorate and tell the judges why telling a bacon whopper wasn’t a reflection on his character, but simply a necessary part of his job. Vote for me so I can tell you lies isn’t a winning slogan in any political campaign. The sight of Carmichael giving evidence is likely to be as delicious as a bacon sandwich that brought unending embarrassment to a Tory Prime Minister.

This week we’ve got party conferences. The Lib Dems had theirs over the weekend, but no one could be bothered to watch, except the poor saps from the BBC who insisted on broadcasting it. It was held in the basement of a scout hut in Kettering, but there were still plenty of spare chairs. Tim Fallon, the new leader that no one has heard of of a party that no one cares about said that he was going to do something or other that no one is going to notice. Although he added that the SNP is very very bad. It was all highly relevant and terribly crucial to bugger all.

Labour has its conference this week too. It started off badly with Jezza making stuff up about the SNP, and then descended further into farce from there. This is the great hope of progressive politics in the UK. He still wants to scrap Trident, although his party won’t let him debate getting rid of it. Your chances of getting rid of Trident by voting Labour remain approximately the same as the chances of Davie Cameron ever escaping public pig based ridicule. There’s only one way to get rid of Trident from Scotland, and it doesn’t involve voting for a party which is determined to keep Scotland a part of the British state.

Jezza wants people in Scotland to take another look at the Labour party, however his problem is that when we take another look at it we still see Iain Gray, Jackie Baillie, and Kezia Dugdale with their problems with numeracy and their complete inability to tell us what they’d do that was better. We still see a party that hasn’t changed and is incapable of changing. Labour has told us since 2007 that it was listening and learning but all it’s ever learned is that it needs to keep yelling that the SNP is really really bad. Jeremy Corbyn shows no sign that he understands Scotland, he acts as though we’re an embarrassment that he wishes would just go away, and when you look at the Labour party in Scotland you can understand why he feels that way.

It’s not so much that Labour in Scotland is controlled by political has-beens, it’s that they never quite got there in the first place, yet they keep banging on and on and on with the enthusiasm of Davie Cameron banging a dead pig, and with much the same effect. Labour in Scotland does need to change, but it won’t change because of a change in leadership in London. Change will have to be forced upon it by the Scottish people. We can change it into a party that’s extinct.

Donate to the Dug This blog relies on your support and donations to keep going – I need to make a living, and have bills to pay. Clicking the donate button will allow you to make a payment directly to my Paypal account. You do not need a Paypal account yourself to make a donation. You can donate as little, or as much, as you want. Many thanks.

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Order the Collected Yaps of the Wee Ginger Dug Vols 1 & 2 for only £21.90 for both volumes. A limited number of signed copies is still available, so get your order in now! P&P will be extra, approximately £3 per single volume or £4 for both sent together. If you only want to order one volume, please specify which. Single volumes are available for £10.95 per copy.

To order please send an email with WEE GINGER BOOK ORDER in the subject field to weegingerbook@yahoo.com giving your name, postal address, and email address and which volumes (1, 2 or both) you wish to order. I will contact you with details of how to make payment. Payment can be made by Paypal, or by cheque or bank transfer.

A wee blog break

Just a wee note to let you know there won’t be any updates to the blog for a few days because I need to process all the orders for the book. I’ve been inundated with orders, far more than I had anticipated. The books were delivered this morning and are currently sitting in a huge pile which occupies almost all of my spare room.

Now I need to sign all the books, stamp them with the paw print, package them, address them, and get them sent out to everyone who has ordered them. It’s going to take me longer than I had thought, so if you’ve submitted an order, please be patient.

If you’ve not ordered your books yet, there’s still time. Send your order request to weegingerbook@yahoo.com and I’ll email you with details on how to make payment. You can pay by Paypal, bank transfer, cheque or cash. Signed copies of both volumes are available for a special price of £20 plus £4 P&P within the UK.

Alternatively, you can come to the book launch at the YesBar Comedy Club at 14 Drury Street Glasgow at 7pm on Monday 28 September. Admission is £22 and as well as signed copies of both volumes, also includes a donation to a refugee charity.

Normal blogging service will be resumed as soon as I recover from the writer’s cramp I’m getting signing all these books.

The answer in the mouth of a pig

Truth they say, comes of out the mouth of a baby, or as we discovered today, in the mouth of Babe. Ed Miliband was subjected to endless abuse by the media because he couldn’t gobble bacon without making a weird face, and then we discovered that David Cameron got gobbled by a pig. History does not record whether the pig was making a weird face at the time. Jeremy Corbyn has been subject to dog’s abuse for not doing his tie up properly and not singing God Save the Queen – although in the presence of all those upper class refugees from public schools he was probably very wise to keep his mouth firmly shut. Nothing that the media ever drags up ever again as a stick with which to beat Jeremy Corbyn or Nicola Sturgeon will ever compare to the retort we can now make to the Conservative establishment. “Aye, but your man shagged a dead pig.”

The media has spent most of the day shuffling around awkwardly, and not wanting to be the first to mention the story. This is unusual, as they’re generally pretty quick to pounce on the reactionary crap spouted by the Daily Mail. But then it’s not every day that the British Prime Minister is accused of shagging a dead pig. This is a shocking scandal of an entirely different order to the scandals which usually shock the British media. When your idea of a scandal is that Jeremy Corbyn wears socks and sandals, being confronted with the allegation that David Cameron stuck his knob in a dead pig, and it is claimed that there is photographic evidence, is going to leave you gibbering open mouthed like the media idiots the public already thinks you are. Although as we’ve learned, it’s not a good idea to remain open mouthed in the company of David Cameron.

To all you No voters out there, if you had voted Yes with the rest of us last year, we wouldn’t currently be living in a country governed by a man who allegedly had sex with a dead pig. Reflect on that over your bacon sandwich as you realise that the entire world is laughing at the United Kingdom. The creatures outside looked from pig to Cam, and from Cam to pig, and from pig to Cam again; but already it was impossible to say which was which. The allegations being made against our Prime Minister also include claims that he indulged in copious drug taking and knew all about the non-dom status of Tory donor Lord Ashcroft even though he’d denied the knowledge. But no one really cares about any of that. We’re stuck on the pig, just like Davie was.

But we all did stupid things when we were young, cry assorted Tories trotting out excuses in an attempt spin things, although the only way this can be spun is on a spit over a fire. Mind you, no amount of basting in honey is going to make it any more appetising. While many of us will admit to youthful indiscretions with herbal smoking materials, this is a very different proposition from shagging a dead pig. It’s not like we’re going to swallow the story if they try to tell us that Davie was just playing with his food. Whether or not the pig swallowed, history does not record.

It’s said that the former US president Lyndon Johnson once instructed his aides to secretly leak a story to the press that one of his political rivals had sex with a pig. The aides protested that they couldn’t do that because the story wasn’t true, and no one would possibly believe it. Johnson replied – “I know it’s not true. I just want to see the son of a bitch have to deny it.” For the rest of that politician’s career, he’d be the guy who had to deny that he had sex with a pig. That’s the position that Hameron is in now. Irrespective of the truth of the story, he’s now the Prime Minister who has to deny that he shagged a dead pig. That’s the image that is going to be forever associated with him. No wonder they call him Hamface.

The reason that rich amoral arseholes join these secret debauchery clubs is simple. It’s so they make connections which they can use later on in life to screw the rest of us over. It’s a way that they can exert power over us, so they get to know the dirty secrets of other powerful men – and it’s always men. Knowledge is power, and if you have knowledge of the immoral and illicit activities of powerful men you have power yourself. Access to these powerful networks must be carefully controlled.

The reason that the secret clubs have humiliating entrance rituals is equally simple. It’s the exact same reason that Latin American drug gangs insist that aspiring members go and murder someone and then present evidence implicating themselves in the murder to other gang members. It’s so that other members have dirt on them. It’s so that the other members can control them. This means that no one who has joined the gang is going to grass when their fellows engage in corrupt, underhand and immoral activities as they pursue their careers.

This applies equally to members of exclusive Oxbridge dining clubs devoted to feeling superior to the plebs and insulting the poor. Rich boys together giving one another a helping hand in the furtherance of their careers. They might not murder people, but they still need to ensure that they have dirt on one another so no one squeals, so they insist that new members humiliate themselves and provide other members with evidence of their humiliation. So we get the stories of Cameron with a pig head and Osborne in a gimp suit. It’s the omertà of High Torydom. Knowledge is power and power is to be used against those without knowledge. They’re all boys together in the pig sty, wallowing in filth, throwing dirt at the little people while the pig stickers get their noses stuck into the trough.

If anyone is still wondering why so many of us in Scotland still want independence, the answer is in the mouth of a pig.

Donate to the Dug This blog relies on your support and donations to keep going – I need to make a living, and have bills to pay. Clicking the donate button will allow you to make a payment directly to my Paypal account. You do not need a Paypal account yourself to make a donation. You can donate as little, or as much, as you want. Many thanks.

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Order the Collected Yaps of the Wee Ginger Dug Vols 1 & 2 for a special pre-publication price of £20 for both volumes. Get your order in before September 28th and you will receive copies signed personally by me, and stamped with a special Wee Ginger Dug paw print. P&P will be extra, approximately £3 per single volume or £4 for both sent together. If you only want to order one volume, please specify which. Single volumes are available for the cover price of £10.95 per copy.

There’s no need to send any money just now, please send an email with WEE GINGER BOOK ORDER in the subject field to weegingerbook@yahoo.com giving your name, postal address, and email address and which volumes (1, 2 or both) you wish to order. I will contact you when the books are ready to be sent out and give details of how to make payment. Payment can be made by Paypal, or by cheque or bank transfer. If you wish to pay by cheque or bank transfer, please specify this in your email and I will send details when the books are ready.

Alternatively you can come along to the official book launch at the YesBar Comedy Club, 14 Drury Street Glasgow, at 7pm on Monday 28 September. Admission is £22 and includes signed copies of both books and a donation to Scotland Supporting Refugees.

Wee Ginger Book Launch

WeeGingerDugCover(1)The official launch of the Collected Yaps of the Wee Ginger Dug will be held in the Yes Bar Comedy Club at the Yes Bar in Drury Street Glasgow, starting at 7.00 pm on Monday 28th September.

Tickets are £22 and as well as admission, gets you signed copies of the two volumes and a chance to have your photograph taken with the real star – Ginger the Dug. There will be stand up from comedian Dennis McKay, and drinks can be ordered at the bar.

If you can’t make the book launch, if you order before 28 Sept you can get signed copies of both volumes for the special price of £20 plus P&P. Send your order to weegingerbook@yahoo.com – do not send any money just now, you will be contacted with payment details when the books are ready to send out.

£2 from the admission will go to the new charity Scotland Supporting Refugees which will be hosting a fundraising immediately after the book launch, starting at 9.00 pm. Scotland Supporting Refugees are a community of volunteers founded by Suzanne McLaughlin of Yesbar, Julie Hepburn, Sarah-Jane Walls, Alison Thewliss MP & friends.

They have a number of aims. First of all, they want to raise awareness of this humanitarian disaster and of opportunities to help. They also want to campaign for a more coordinated approach from NGOs and others. But crucially, they want to provide help – fast! The main focus will be raising funds, both to support our own efforts to provide humanitarian assistance to refugees, but also the valuable work of other organisations – large or small.

More info can be found here. https://www.facebook.com/Scotland-Supporting-Refugees-748319128610187/timeline/

Suzanne McLaughlin of the Yes Bar has pulled together some of Scotland’s finest comedians, including Gary Little, Bruce Fummey, JoJo Sutherland, Patrick Rolink, Viv Gee and more, they are all donating their time and a fundraising auction will be hosted by Hardeep Singh Kohli and VIP special guest. The evening will be attended by MPs and MSPs. The event will kick off at 8.30pm immediately following the Wee Ginger Book Launch.

Prizes at the auction include meals out at top restaurants, Clothing generously donated by Alexander McQueen, beauty gifts and bottles of Fizz.

Yesbar Comedy Club, 14 Drury Street, Glasgow
7pm for the book launch
8.30pm for the Scotland Supporting Refugees fundraiser

Tickets for the Scotland Supporting Refugees event are available from Monday 21st September at http://www.yesbar.scot tickets for the Wee Ginger Book Launch will be available at the door.

Tickets for the Scotland Supporting Refugees even are £20 suggested price or whatever you can manage for the unwaged. Please note this is separate from the £22 for the book launch, a price which also includes signed copies of both volumes of the Collected Yaps.

Burning down the Labour party

Despite having a poseur streak a mile and a half wide, and a large collection of vintage suits, I don’t care what Jezza wears. I don’t care if he wears a tie, I don’t care if he does up his top shirt button. It’s the content that matters, not the packaging. Scotland was expecting the delivery of a socialist package from Jezza, we didn’t mind what the wrapping was like.

We thought Jeremy Corbyn with his white beard was the socialist Santa, he was going to deliver all sorts of goodies for the good boys and girls who, despite the frequent disappointments, really believed in the pot-holed Great British Parliamentary Road to Socialism.

And after all the excitement, after all the hype, and us waiting up all night like weans expecting a prezzie, we tear off the recycled wrapping to discover that Jezza has given Scotland Ian Murray – the MP for the people’s republic of Morningside, a man who makes a plastic action figure appear animated. But there’s other prezzies lurking in the package, there’s Tommy McAvoy, who’s not even evolved enough to count as a dinosaur, an arsonist, and a random Welsh guy who no one has ever heard of. Not even in Wales.

I’ve not been so disappointed since I was a wean and my granny gave me a big box containing my birthday present and I ripped it open to discover a pair of purple crimplene trousers, some nylon socks three sizes too wee, and a t-shirt bearing a golliwog logo. Mind you, my granny was an avowedly racist bigot, she was the one you were allowed to shove aff the bus. On top of that she was possibly the only person in the history of the universe with a poorer sense of style than Jeremy Corbyn.

Jezza doesn’t care how things look. Which is fine. But not caring how it looks that you’ve appointed Tommy McAvoy as your Scotland spokesperson in the Lords isn’t fine at all. Tommy McAvoy represents all that is wrong with the Labour party in Scotland, the cronyism, the entitlement, the expenses claims, the sheer unpleasantness. And I’ve not even mentioned the implacable opposition to any equal rights for Lesbian and Gay people. So thanks for that Jez.

No one knows why Wayne David has been appointed to the Scotland team, not even Wayne, although he may once have visited Rothesay on holiday. Wayne has a lower profile in Scotland than a limbo dancer who’s suffered a tragic accident with a road roller, and his profile in Wales isn’t any higher. His qualification for the Scotland brief would appear to consist of being a Celtic type, and viewed from Islington North there’s not much difference anyway. He’ll do, said the Labour leadership, he talks funny just like a Jock.

The new team who are going to bring Scotland back to the Labour party look very much like the old team, the Shadow Scottish secretary who looks like one of those rubber stress toys that you squeeze and their eyes pop out, the theropod notable only for evolving the concept of nest-feathering, and a random leek. The face of the new politics looks suspiciously like the old one. The Corbyn bandwagon has only just started and it’s already being shaken apart on the potholed road, heavily rutted by generations of time servers.

But that’s not all, as a bonus prize we’ve got Charlie Falconer, who has never held an elected position in his life and who owes his high office to once having shared a flat with Tony Blair. After over 10 years in office and an illegal war, the rest of the public are now equally familiar with Tony’s brown stained underpants, so it’s unclear what advantages Charlie possesses.

This wasn’t the worst though. Appointing Burn Mike Look At The Pretty Fire 85+/Watson of Invergowrie as your education spokesperson is a far worse faux pas than not doing up your shirt properly at the Cenotaph. It looks really bad because it is really bad. He’s a convicted arsonist who was sentenced to 20 months in prison and served eight for attempting to burn down a hotel full of people. The judge at the time said that he was a danger to the public. Yet despite this glowing record, Mike remains a member of the Labour party, and now he’s a member of the Labour party who has high office. He’s a beacon of socialism, apparently. And if you want to argue that he’s served his time and ought to be forgiven, then just ask yourself how outraged you’d be if Cameron had appointed an arsonist to his cabinet, to sit alongside the sociopaths and psychopaths who are already there.

I now find myself in the very uncomfortable position of agreeing with Fraser Nelson, the editor of the right wing Spectator and escapee from the Bide a Wee Home for North British Elocution where he sadly contracted a terminal case of irritable vowel syndrome. Agreeing with Fraser has hitherto been as implausible as Ruth Davidson saying that she doesn’t really like tanks, Iain Duncan Smith actually practising some of the Christian charity that he self-righteously preaches about, or Fluffy Mundell making a public statement that doesn’t make you want to slap him.

Fraser published a piece in his right wing scream sheet claiming that the Corbynet looked less like the fresh face of a new look at British politics, and a lot more like the results of scraping the bottom of a barrel of bad apples for foul smelling gunge. The truth is, large sections of the Labour party refuse to serve under Jezza, because they don’t want to be tainted when the entire project comes crashing down in a shower of socialist recriminations. Those politicans are the disease of Labour, if they don’t want to serve under a leader voted in by a large majority of party members and supporters, it’s them who are in the wrong party. Labour can’t help us if it won’t help itself. It’s not that there are bad apples in the Labour party, it’s that the entire orchard is rotten. It needs to be burned down so something fresh and new can grow. Perhaps that will be the real service provided by Mike Watson.

Meanwhile here in Scotland we already have our own democratic resistance movement, one which has already withstood the flames. This time last year the independence movement was under attack, literally. Unionist thugs attacked independence supporters on the streets of Glasgow, and the media dismissed it. If it had been independence supporters physically assaulting Unionists, they’d have been calling for the imposition of martial law. We survived all that, and we’re still here, still laughing, still singing, still marching. Today is the anniversary of the day that we started to fight back.

Order the Collected Yaps of the Wee Ginger Dug Vols 1 & 2 for a special pre-publication price of £20 for both volumes. Get your order in before September 28th and you will receive copies signed personally by me, and stamped with a special Wee Ginger Dug paw print. P&P will be extra, approximately £3 per single volume or £4 for both sent together. If you only want to order one volume, please specify which. Single volumes are available for the cover price of £10.95 per copy.

There’s no need to send any money just now, please send an email with WEE GINGER BOOK ORDER in the subject field to weegingerbook@yahoo.com giving your name, postal address, and email address and which volumes (1, 2 or both) you wish to order. I will contact you when the books are ready to be sent out and give details of how to make payment. Payment can be made by Paypal, or by cheque or bank transfer. If you wish to pay by cheque or bank transfer, please specify this in your email and I will send details when the books are ready.

Donate to the Dug This blog relies on your support and donations to keep going – I need to make a living, and have bills to pay. Clicking the donate button will allow you to make a payment directly to my Paypal account. You do not need a Paypal account yourself to make a donation. You can donate as little, or as much, as you want. Many thanks.

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Independence of mind

It’s a year on from the big vote, and everything has changed and nothing has changed. Scotland has changed forever, Westminster hasn’t changed at all. Scotland buzzed with energy, with hope, and found a new self-confidence and inner strength. It wasn’t enough to win the vote, but it was enough to win independence of spirit and mind. Scotland is already independent in its imagination and in its dreams. This is not the same country that it was a few short years ago. Once the box of hope was opened, things could never go back to the way they were before.

The knowledge that that profound change is irreversible is why the Unionists remain angry and bitter, afraid and uncertain as they inch gingerly along, never knowing when the Union will plunge to its doom. They know that their old certainties are gone, they’re afraid of what might replace them, so they scream that everything is uncertain. But the only uncertainty is within them.

The Union won the vote at the cost of surrendering its foundations and setting sail on a tide of negativity and fear. Now it’s beached itself on public disgust and it’s only a matter of time before the shifted sands swallow it. Yet Westminster sails on, blythely disregarding the referendum vote, believing it was fought on Westminster’s winner takes it all rules. It wasn’t. This was a Scottish vote, fought on Scottish terms. The rules have changed forever now, and the Union sits on quicksand, trying to pretend it’s solid and unyielding. But it’s a charade, and the charade was exposed last year. The hollowness and weakness of the Union was on public display last year. We saw the emperor naked.

The result ought to have been a massive shock to a complacent parliament, a warning that it needed to change in order to prevent Scotland slipping out of its grasp once and for all. All over Scotland Yes voters made their own personal vows, that they would work unceasingly until the corrupt and unscrupulous Union was brought down. A state only retains its authority when its citizens believe in its power. Last year a half of Scotland stopped believing. Westminster ignored that message, and went back to pauchle as usual immediately afterwards. The Smith Commission became a game of deceit as the Unionist parties competed with one another to see how little they could get away with. Scotland looked on, sullenly.

We took revenge in May when we destroyed the Unionist parties in Scotland, leaving them with one MP each like the stuffed heads of an endangered species to decorate the wall. And still Westminster didn’t listen to the sound of the motor for change. That motor was driven by disgust at the corrupt antics of Westminster MPs, their unaccountability, the way in which they serve themselves first and foremost, and even when we vote them out of office they still gain rewards. Yet the very day before the anniversary of the biggest kick in the nads that the Westminster Parlaiment has received in a generation, Westminster demonstrated yet again how out of touch it was, and how it didn’t give a damn.

Malcolm Rifkind and Jack Straw have been cleared of any wrong doing by their pals in Parliament. The nation was devastated that two beloved politicians who’ve never been involved in any illegal war mongering at all, oh no, might have been involved in feathering their own nests on the back of the contacts they’ve made as Parliamentarians. But now they’ve been investigated and we discover it was all the fault of Channel 4 for trapping them in an ungentlemanly sting. It wasn’t that the rules were corrupt in the first place. The corrupt rules are just fine and it wasn’t within the remit of the Standards Committee to examine the standards of its rules.

After a proper investigation by men who wear ties, don’t have beards, and who sing all the words to the national anthem, we learn that being a grubby politician on the make isn’t against the rules after all. The integrity of grubby politicians on the make is restored as is our faith in British democracy. Huzza! That would be our faith that it is corrupt, venal, self-serving, and irredeemable.

Westminster has been skating on the thin ice of public opinion for quite some time. There’s the illegal wars, the child sex abuse cover ups, the cash for access, the utter failure to control the excesses of the banks, the rush to permausterity, the demonisation of the poor, the refusal to take responsibility for refugees, the peerages doled out to party donors and failed politicians, the expenses scandals, the dismissal of every single amendment to Scottish legislation put forward by Scottish MPs. And that litany of depression doesn’t even begin to detail the betrayals and disappointment. Yet Westminster doesn’t just fall through the thin ice, it smashes it with the explosives it’s selling to even more corrupt and anti-democratic regimes and it plunges in head first. And then it looks at us with a smug self-satisfied look and announces primly that it’s all within the rules.

The Union promised change, faster change, safer change, yet it’s not delivering. They won the referendum last year on the back of a big lie. The Westminster parliament won’t change. It can’t change. It doesn’t want to change. The Union enjoys the support of the dwindling numbers who are quite happy with things as they are, as more and more those who want change come to realise that change will only come about when Scotland takes power into its own hands and forces change. We know now that we don’t need the Westminster Parliament, we still have some work to do to convince a substantial majority that we don’t want it either. But we will do that work.

That’s the lesson that Scotland learned during the referendum campaign last year – if we want something done we need to do it ourselves. That’s what it means to be independent in the mind, and we’ve crossed that bridge already. The day that we do it ourselves is coming.

Order the Collected Yaps of the Wee Ginger Dug Vols 1 & 2 for a special pre-publication price of £20 for both volumes. Get your order in before September 28th and you will receive copies signed personally by me, and stamped with a special Wee Ginger Dug paw print. P&P will be extra, approximately £3 per single volume or £4 for both sent together. If you only want to order one volume, please specify which. Single volumes are available for the cover price of £10.95 per copy.

There’s no need to send any money just now, please send an email with WEE GINGER BOOK ORDER in the subject field to weegingerbook@yahoo.com giving your name, postal address, and email address and which volumes (1, 2 or both) you wish to order. I will contact you when the books are ready to be sent out and give details of how to make payment. Payment can be made by Paypal, or by cheque or bank transfer. If you wish to pay by cheque or bank transfer, please specify this in your email and I will send details when the books are ready.

Donate to the Dug This blog relies on your support and donations to keep going – I need to make a living, and have bills to pay. Clicking the donate button will allow you to make a payment directly to my Paypal account. You do not need a Paypal account yourself to make a donation. You can donate as little, or as much, as you want. Many thanks.

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