The mystic mutt’s predictions for 2016

January
An asteroid narrowly misses the Earth. Labour issues a press release with the shocking revelation that in the event of a global mass extinction, the SNP have failed to ensure that five million beds are available in the Scottish NHS. Worse, the Scottish Government have done nothing to invest in flood defences to protect the country from the 2000 metre high tsunami that would follow a rock the size of Labour’s sense of entitlement plunging into the North Atlantic. The Daily Record prints an editorial saying that the demise of the SNP in the polls is only a matter of time.

February
Following the news that a teenager in Paisley had to wait three hours in A&E with a saucepan stuck on his head, the BBC’s Reporting Scotland broadcasts a special edition about the crisis in the NHS and the inability of the teenager’s maw to make the dinner because her best pan was ruined. Despite the fact the family have been forced to live on microwaved ready meals for a week, not a single minister from the Scottish Government has visited them to apologise. The Scotsman prints an editorial saying that the demise of the SNP in the polls is only a matter of time.

March
This month, like every preceding month, a Unionist commentator publishes an article bemoaning the fact that the entire country has been overtaken by an SNP cult preying on the weak minds of the terminally dull and stupid. He bewails the fact that no one in Scotland is as erudite and cosmopolitan as him and his Westminion chums, what with his ability to name drop 18th century philosophers, and predicts that it’s only a matter of time before the great Scottish unwashed realise just what a genius he is and start voting Tory. Then he gets upset because everyone is laughing at him. The Herald prints an editorial saying that the demise of the SNP in the polls is only a matter of time.

April
With the Scottish election campaign in full swing, the press is full of commentators swearing blind that the SNP can’t possibly do as well as the polls suggest and praising the stalwart efforts of Kezia Dugdale to stem the tide of swivel eyed separatism. There’s a torrent of SNPbad leading to flooding in low lying areas of Edinburgh, and Arbroath is cut off by a deluge of stories about how Nicola Sturgeon is personally responsible for the national shortage of tartan high heels. The Press & Journal prints an editorial saying that the demise of the SNP in the polls is only a matter of time.

May
Labour gets gubbed in the Holyrood elections and the much heralded Tory resurgence fails yet again to resurge despite Davie Mundell, or more likely because of him. The SNP and the Greens both return to Holyrood with much increased representation. Labour is reduced to a rump of list MPs, although most of Scotland knows that it’s not so much a rump as an arse. Despite the victory of the forces of independence, the media assures us that the SNP is still very very bad, and the Scottish nationalist bubble is about to burst. The Daily Record prints an editorial saying that the demise of the SNP in the polls is only a matter of time.

June
One month into its new term in office and the SNP is still really really bad. Several unionist commentators run out of epithets for badness and are reduced to recycling articles that they wrote last year. No one notices. Naturally this is all the fault of the SNP. Meanwhile the BBC broadcasts an anthropology documentary tracking down the very last Telegraph reader in Scotland, a retired insurance executive in Crieff who suffers from dyslexia and severe short sightedness and only buys the Telegraph because he thinks it’s really the Tits And Arse jizz mag. He confesses that he’d always thought he suffered from erectile dysfunction but has been cured now that he realises he was mistaking Alan Cochrane for an erotic model. The Scotsman prints an editorial saying that the demise of the SNP in the polls is only a matter of time.

July
There’s a snap referendum on the UK’s membership of the EU. Despite a Project Fear campaign that makes the Scottish Project Fear look like an end of the pier ghost train ride, England votes to leave the EU. Scotland votes to stay. The Scottish Government announces that this is the trigger for another independence referendum, only this time Westminster can stick its you’ll get kicked out the EU threat up its select committee. David Cameron announces that he’s retiring in order to spend more time with Peppa Pig. The Herald prints an editorial saying that the demise of the SNP in the polls is only a matter of time.

August
New Prime Minister George Osborne will be an utter bastard, although that’s not so much a prediction as a statement of fact. After appearing on the BBC show Who Do You Think You Are? a really not at all surprised nation discovers that George is in fact the offspring of Darth Vader and a syphilitic merchant banker. New Tory policies announced by the new PM include the mandatory exclusion of Scottish MPs from the Commons Tearoom whenever strawberries and cream are being served, in future Scottish MPs will only be allowed to purchase scones. The BBC hails this as a massive extension of Scotland’s devolved powers. The Press & Journal prints an editorial saying that the demise of the SNP in the polls is only a matter of time.

September
Scotland’s new powers over road signage come into force, and immediately there is traffic chaos as the last remaining Unionist MSPs are befuddled by the Gaelic translation of One Way Street despite the fact they’ve been stuck up one for the past decade. The Unionist introduce a motion in Holyrood condemning the fact that Scotland has a culture, as this undermines their contention that the only reason anyone wants independence is because they hate Nicolas Witchell. A petition on the internet for people to express their hatred of Nicolas Witchell gains 55 million signatures. The Daily Record prints an editorial saying that the demise of the SNP in the polls is only a matter of time.

October
As the US Presidential election campaign goes into its final weeks, Republican candidate Donald Trump threatens to ban Scottish people from visiting the US if they’ve ever expressed support for wind farms. The Scottish Government retaliates by planting a wind turbine in the middle of Hole 18, specially designed to lift Donald’s comb-over. David Torrance pens an article in the Herald condemning the move, claiming that he’s the only person in Scotland who knows what a comb is for. The article wins a press award as comb use is univerally recognised as David’s area of expertise. The Scotsman prints an editorial saying that the demise of the SNP in the polls is only a matter of time.

November
A new SNPBad scandal dominates the headlines. SNPBad scandals have been dominating the headlines every week this year, but this one is really really really bad. It is revealed by a stunned Unionist press corps that when Nicola Sturgeon was entertaining an official delegation to Holyrood from Catalonia, she bought some yum yums from Greggs on expenses. Convinced that the scandal of separatist baked goods will turn the nationalist tide, the Unionist media embark on a full scale assault on the Scottish Government just like the one they embarked on last week, and the week before that. Glenn Campbell flies off to the USA to interview an elderly tourist from Akron Ohio who sampled a yum yum while on holiday but who is now appalled to discover that she was stoking the fires of nationalism. It’s Scotland’s sugary shame. The Herald prints an editorial saying that the demise of the SNP in the polls is only a matter of time.

December
As Scotland gets ready for another independence referendum, the EU announces that if Scotland votes yes it can inherit the UK’s place in the EU. Since Osborne’s government is at the very same time desperately negotiating to keep free access to the EU even after the Brexit, no one believes the threats that there will be a chain fence and watch towers along the Scottish-English border. Well no one except the Unionist media which is also predicting that the demise of the SNP in the polls is only a matter of time. But no one believes them anyway. Scotland is looking forward to a new year and the yum yums of self-determination.


BUTRT cover front(1)BARKING UP THE RIGHT TREE Barking Up the Right Tree has now been published and is an anthology of my articles for The National newspaper. You can submit an advance order for the book on the Vagabond Voices website at http://vagabondvoices.co.uk/?page_id=1993

Price is just £7.95 for 156 pages of doggy goodness. Order today!

A limited number of signed copies of the two volumes of the Collected Yaps is also still available. See below for order details.


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.

Donate Button

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. Get your order in today – an ideal Christmas present!

When crying wolf is the fault of the wolf

The SNP is bad. It’s very bad, terribly bad, badly bad. Scarcely a day goes by without the Unionist media telling Scotland just how badly bad bad the bad SNP is. Everything about them is bad, everything the Scottish government does is bad. Scotland is full of stupid cultists who insist on supporting the SNP out of badness, because they’re bad, and stupid, and culty. And it’s all the fault of the SNP for being bad, and controlling the populace with bad mind control rays and neurolinguistic programming that penetrates the thickest tin foil hat fashioned from a handy cut out and keep guide in a Jenny Hjul column in the Scotsman.

On Saturday we had peak SNPbad. Magnus Gardham of the Herald wrote an article complaining that saying SNPbad was bad, that it has become a means for the SNP to dodge all criticism. Only he neglected to mention why SNPbad ever became a meme in the first place. That would mean he’d have to look at his own behaviour and that of his Unionist media chums, and that would never do. It’s only cybernats who merit criticism, when you criticise anyone else it’s bullying and abuse.

With a media which is, with the exception of one Sunday and one daily newspaper, entirely Unionist, the message that the bad SNP is bad bad dominates the press agenda. SNPBad is the agenda, and the only agenda, because the only press outlets which aren’t Unionist are of course badly bad, and cultishly tin foil hattish too. They’re not at all like the worldly wise Unionists. Not like the Unionists with their outward looking tolerance and lack of bias and willingness to see all sides of an argument, oh no. It’s that unbiased neutrality that allows them to publish stories about how terrible it is that the Forth Bridge was closed even though the Unionist parties were the ones opposing a new bridge, about how Scotland’s NHS is so rubbish even though it’s better than England’s, and about how it’s scandalous that Nicola Sturgeon has a posh coffee making machine. And on and on and on in an unending torrent of stale mince based crapulosity.

When you live next door to a sewage plant, your nose eventually gives up and no longer smells the crap. You can walk out into your garden and the only odour you’ll detect is the sweet smell of the flower on a thistle. That’s what’s happened in Scotland with our Unionist media and their constant deluge of SNPcrap. We no longer smell it. We’ve given up caring. Scotland no longer pays any heed to those who fancy themselves as opinion makers, because what ordinary Scots learned during the independence referendum was that we are perfectly capable of forming our own opinions and we need the opinion formers of the Unionist press like we need bog roll made from sandpaper.

The three ply sandpaper isn’t best pleased by the discovery that it’s being left on the shelf by the news shoppers. It clearly isn’t the fault of their product, which comes with the seal of approval of the British establishment. Purveyors of sandpaper based lavatorial cleansing products get awarded knighthoods and OBEs and are granted interviews with really important politicians – you know, the ones who don’t live in Scotland. This is clearly a testament to the utility and product worthiness of an arse scraped raw. So the fact that this award winning product is being rejected by the punters can only be because they have been seduced by an alien cult which tells them stupid idiocies like they can wipe their behinds with something soft. The very idea.

The Unionist media doesn’t understand why its message has lost traction and continues to lose traction. It prefers to console itself with the familiar nostrums that it’s all because the SNP is bad. This makes the Scottish Unionist media the only media on the planet which reports the story of the boy who cried wolf as being all the fault of the wolf.

When it’s not the fault of the SNP bad wolf, it’s the fault of the evil cybernat. It’s the fault of everyone but the Unionist media. The Unionist media is professional, they fancy that they are able to distinguish between the BMW of the Scotsman and the rickety bicycle of a cybernat blog. It’s just a shame for them then that when the professionals of the Scottish Unionist media see a shiny powerful motor, the rest of us see a canoe up shit creek without a paddle. The only direction it’s headed in is downwards as fewer and fewer of us buy newspapers, as fewer read their commentary, as trust in them is flushed away like the only use left for the Daily Record.

The term cybernat is Unionist shorthand for anyone who supports independence and who has access to the Internet. It’s a term which attempts to diminish, discredit and disgrace ordinary Scots who are interested in politics, the very people who would in the normal course of events be most interested in reading the opinions of a columnist in a newspaper who writes about politics. The very people who are most likely to read a newspaper column by the likes of Magnus Gardham. Every time they use the term, they’re destroying their own career. Now what was once the strength of the Unionist media has become its weakness.

Scotland deserves better. Scotland deserves a media that actually reflects the breadth and variety of opinions in this country. We deserve more than a constant litany of SNPbad and independence mad. The half of this country that supports independence demands that our views and opinions are treated with the same respect that the Unionist media demands for itself. For too long the Unionist parties and their followers in the media have had it all their own way, for too long they’ve been able to ignore and marginalise the voices that say – things don’t have to be this way, things can be different, things can be better.

They can’t do that any more, there are too many of us. Our voices are too numerous to be silent, our tongues will not be held. It’s going to be a very happy new year. Just not for the Unionist establishment.


BUTRT cover front(1)BARKING UP THE RIGHT TREE Barking Up the Right Tree has now been published and is an anthology of my articles for The National newspaper. You can submit an advance order for the book on the Vagabond Voices website at http://vagabondvoices.co.uk/?page_id=1993

Price is just £7.95 for 156 pages of doggy goodness. Order today!

A limited number of signed copies of the two volumes of the Collected Yaps is also still available. See below for order details.


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.

Donate Button

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. Get your order in today – an ideal Christmas present!

Tis the season to be trolling

Merry Christmas readers, except if you’re Scottish, an immigrant, a refugee, a Muslim, a supporter of Jeremy Corbyn, a pacifist, a republican, disabled, unemployed, on a zero hours contract, European, or a council tenant, in which case you’re a dangerous threat to decent society and the Daily Mail will shortly be coming to Rothesay to expose you. The Mail’s most recent foray into hyperbolic racist shit-stirring is only the most egregious example of press trolling this past week, but it’s by no means the only one and by no means will it be the last.

An article ‘exposing’ the fact that the Syrian refugees settled in Bute are being treated kindly and humanely was filed by someone who writes for the Mail, someone who’s a disgrace to journalism. Let’s be honest here, it’s pretty hard to disgrace a profession which human organ traffickers are able to look down on with a sense of superiority, but the Mail managed it. Organ traffickers may steal your kidney, but at least they don’t hypocritically pretend they’re doing it for the benefit of society, and they don’t occupy the moral high ground by shoving off the people who really deserve to be there. The British press does that. Organ traffickers are scum and they know they’re scum. Daily Mail journalists are scum who sell themselves as the cream on your full fat milk of human kindness.

In the Daily Mail, and in the British press as a whole, we’re supposed to be outraged that people who’ve fled death and destruction – death and destruction to which Britain is now contributing – should be living normal lives like normal people. We’re supposed to be angered that they’ve got normal things like mobile phones, and washing machines, and kids’ bicycles. We’re supposed to see kids playing innocently as an Islamofascist threat to social order. We’re supposed to be suspicious, jealous, and resentful of anyone who isn’t white, well-off, heterosexual, Conservative and a flag waving British patriot. We’re told to hate anyone who isn’t like a Daily Mail journalist. But it’s the Daily Mail journalists who are the loathesome ones.

According to a recent survey, the British press is the least trusted and the least liked of any media in any developed nation. The survey didn’t ask about the media in Scotland, but I’d put money on it being even less trusted and even more disliked than its English counterpart. Oh no, I said English. I must be a racist. That’s the level the Unionist Scottish media operate on in the strangest one party state in the world.

In Scotland, the claim that we’re a one party state is given serious airtime by a media which loses another bit of its rapidly diminishing credibility every time the claim is published. Scotland is the strangest one party state in the world. It’s the only one party state where the media is almost entirely opposed to the one party. It’s the only one party state where the opposition is never scrutinised or held to account. It’s the only one party state which is a one party state because the opposition is useless, not because they’re oppressed. In the real world you don’t get to claim victimhood because you’re a hopelessly incompetent mendacious clown, but you do if you’re a Unionist in Scotland. And their trolling bleats of complaint are presented in all seriousness by a media which lost the plot years ago. It’s the fault of the SNP that Labour in Scotland are clueless balloons.

Over the past couple of weeks we’ve seen the Scottish media going into a full scale assault on the Scottish government. Again. It’s all so boringly SNPBad predictable. The Forth Road Bridge closure was all the fault of the SNP. If you believed what you read in the papers, then Nicola Sturgeon had personally created a crack in the bridge structure by wantonly marching into Fife in a pair of tartan high heels and there was no money to repair because the entire Scottish budget was being spent on a giant chocolate sculpture of Alex Salmond.

This came shortly after sustained attacks on the party of Scottish government for the alleged misdemeanours of a couple of its MPs. MPs who were convicted, sentenced and hung out to dry by a media long before any investigation into what they may or may not have done was completed, or indeed even begun. Investigations which, it needs to be pointed out, do not include allegations of criminal behaviour. Yet at the same time the actual criminal charges being faced by a Labour MP concerning an alleged assault at a Glasgow polling station during the independence referendum went unremarked.

The Scottish media thinks that ordinary punters don’t notice that they’re doing this, that we don’t see the double standards. You see, it’s not that we think that the SNP can do no wrong. It’s not that we think that the Scottish Government is beyond criticism. It’s just that we’re not going to listen to the criticisms and cavils of a discredited media which thinks that portraying the SNP as just as bad as Labour is going to persuade us to start voting Labour again. You don’t make people start liking someone they believe is a bastard by claiming that someone else is a bastard too, and certainly not when the claims are being made by the first bastards’ pals. But that’s what the Scottish media are reduced to.

It’s comically pathetic if nothing else. It’s almost as comically pathetic as the fond delusion amongst the Unionist media that they’re neutral and unbiased. I don’t actually mind bias. I’m biased. Severely biased. But I wear my bias on my sleeve. I don’t pretend to be neutral when I’m not. The Unionist media pretends to be the sensible and dispassionate voice of a disinterested observer, when in fact they’re the self-selecting spokespersons for corporatism and the British establishment. An ocean of lies is invisible to the fish who swim in it, but clearly visible to everyone else.

And the comically pathetic self delusion of the Scottish Unionist media is comically ineffective. This week a new opinion poll showed that the SNP now enjoy an increased lead of 34% over Labour in the constituency vote for Holyrood. The media will howl, they’ll constantly predict that this time, this time, the fightback has begun and the dead horses of Labour and the Tories are responding to the whippings. But nothing will change and they’ll keep on shouting in the dark. Every season is the season to be trolling in the British media – and no one is listening any more.


BUTRT cover front(1)BARKING UP THE RIGHT TREE Barking Up the Right Tree has now been published and is an anthology of my articles for The National newspaper. You can submit an advance order for the book on the Vagabond Voices website at http://vagabondvoices.co.uk/?page_id=1993

Price is just £7.95 for 156 pages of doggy goodness. Order today!

A limited number of signed copies of the two volumes of the Collected Yaps is also still available. See below for order details.


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.

Donate Button

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. Get your order in today – an ideal Christmas present!

The stink of a dead goldfish

Dianne Abbott,Labour’s shadow International Development Secretary, has upset the pouters and pettit lips of Labour in Scotland – which to be fair isn’t hard to do – by pointing out the bleedin obvious. All she said is that Labour is screwed and won’t get itself unscrewed in time for May’s Holyrood election. And it’s blatantly clear to any observer of Scottish politics that the entire contents of B&Q’s tools department isn’t enough to unscrew Labour in Scotland. Give the party access to the contents of your average DIY store, and they’d only use the spades to dig themselves even deeper into the hole that they’re in.

A nameless spokespouter huffed that no one pays any attention to Dianne Abbott in Scotland, adding that she doesn’t have a clue about Scottish politics. Sadly for the pouter, you could say exactly the same about the Labour party in Scotland, which goes a long way to explaining why they’re in such a mess.

What a difference a year makes. A year ago Labour had just elected Jim Murphy as its leaderette, and he was striding the stage of the Scottish media and making regular appearances on every single bloody episode of Reporting Scotland telling one and all how Labour, but Jim in particular, was going to kick the arse of the SNP. The Scottish media lapped it up. This was a big hitter hitting big. While the indy supporting part of Scotland laughed with glee, Jim was confidently claiming that the only reason we were laughing was to cover up our existential terror that Jim was going to wipe the floor with us.

The Unionist media cheered in agreement. Without a shred of objective evidence, they accepted Jim’s bluster and got out the red white and blue bunting. Scotland had narrowly voted no, and they wanted to believe so hard that Scotland had passed peak SNP. And then without the slightest hint of irony, they accused independence supporters of being cultists who base their views on emotion without evidence.

Events proved the mockers on the indy side correct. We were not laughing to cover our fear. We were laughing because Jim was risible. He was a big hitter hitting big, but he was just walloping himself in the bollocks with a big heavy hammer from B&Q. The only people incapable of seeing that were the blinkered geldings of the Scottish Unionist media, who promptly decided that the fact they’d lost touch with reality was because reality was delusional, not them. Who’s the culty culty cultbags noo?

Oh right, it’s still us, because once you’ve got a job screaming crap in the Daily Mail you’re never wrong about anything. But then it’s easy to be right about everything when you live in a fantasy world where Jim Murphy was going to trounce the forces of yesness and the Scottish Tories and Labour are perched on the edge of recovery – and not on the edge of a cliff.

But back to December 2015. Despite the concerted campaign of cheerleading over the past year, Labour is as dead in the pond of Scottish politics as an upside down goldfish, just waiting to be flushed away. The party, and the Scottish Unionist media, have the same attention span as the dead goldfish, so hope that if they keep on doing what they’ve been doing for the past year, only do it louder and more vehemently, then they’ll convince the rest of us that the dead goldfish is about to win a gold medal in swimming for team GB.

You’d think that they’d have realised by now that screaming SNPBad isn’t going to change their fortunes any, because the electorate of Scotland has already decided that Labour is as much use as a dead goldfish. Actually that’s unfair, because you can trust a dead goldfish, you can’t trust Labour. But the point remains, Labour screaming that the SNP is bad bad really really bad isn’t going to change anyone’s opinion about the Labour party. In effect, all Labour are trying to do is to make a pitch to the voters of Scotland that the SNP is as crap as Labour is. This is not a positive selling point, even a dead goldfish is more attractive than the Labour party in Scotland – at least the goldfish was pretty once.

The real reason that the remains of Labour are going to be flushed away next year is because no one trusts them any more. It’s not that Labour doesn’t have policies – although aside from SNPBad you’d be hard pushed to find any policies. It’s that even if Labour did have policies, even if those policies were properly costed and accounted for by something more than the Jackie Baillie School of Creative Arithmetic, we’d still not believe a word the party said. Labour has lied too often. Labour have no purpose any more other than to get into power, and just like their idol Gordie Broon they don’t have the slightest idea of what to do once they get there. So the punters will make sure that they never do.

The reason Labour is about to be flushed is the lying eyes of Tony Blair, the self-serving tongue of Gordie Broon, the blustering buffoonery of Jim Murphy, the oafishness of George Foulkes, and the whining excuses of Kezia. And every time one of the party’s media apologists tells us that Scotland has got over the SNP and Labour is about to ascend again, every time that they try and pin the blame for Tory cuts on the Scottish government, another couple of voters decide to prove them wrong.

Now the selfish self-serving time servers of Labour and its media pals are trying to tell Scotland that Tory cuts are the fault of the SNP. The cuts that we’re only experiencing because Labour and its media friends campaigned to keep Scotland under the boot of the Tories, because Labour and its media friends would rather Scotland is powerless because that means Labour can get power. The party that calls itself the people’s party always puts party before people. That’s why they’re dead like a rotten goldfish and the smell reaches all the way to London, and the nostrils of Dianne Abbott.


BUTRT cover front(1)BARKING UP THE RIGHT TREE Barking Up the Right Tree has now been published and is an anthology of my articles for The National newspaper. You can submit an advance order for the book on the Vagabond Voices website at http://vagabondvoices.co.uk/?page_id=1993

Price is just £7.95 for 156 pages of doggy goodness. Order today!

A limited number of signed copies of the two volumes of the Collected Yaps is also still available. See below for order details.


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.

Donate Button

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. Get your order in today – an ideal Christmas present!

I’m a nonentity get me out of here

Well having been away for a week, I’ve missed all sorts of developments in Scottish politics. The Daily Record announced that it was really sorry for all the pish about the vow and vowed never to make crap up ever again, Jackie Baillie said something truthful – admittedly it was just during a conversation about what she’d had for her tea the previous evening, but still – and Kezia Dugdale stood up at Furst Meenister’s Questions and made a useful suggestion about what Labour would like to do if they were in office and didn’t mention once that the SNP are really REALLY bad.

Oh wait. No. That was a mad dream caused by jetlag and e-numbers in Twinkies. The Record is still a rag, Jackie’s still mendacious, and Kezia’s whine is higher pitched and louder than the jet engine that brought me home across the Atlantic. Mind you, the plane engine didn’t try to convince me that the SNP is really REALLY bad. Although if I were a member of the Labour party I’d probably blame the SNP for the really shitty tea in the café at Boston airport.

Back on Planet Scotland, this week saw James Kelly MSP starring in his very own production of I’m a Nonentity Get Me Out of Here when he challenged Holyrood’s Presiding Officer to a skwerr go in the car park at the back of the parlie. It was a desperate bid for attention from a man who is blessed with the charm and charisma of a burst plastic bag from Iceland. One of the 5p ones.

As a Labour constituency MSP James has a rapidly approaching use by date, and he’s now made the belated realisation that he’s used the past five years playing second fiddle to Iain Gray, and no one knows who Iain is either. It’s a bit like hoping that a gig as an understudy to the Krankies will lead to the offer of a leading role in the Royal Shakespeare Company. A stand in for a panto performer is a reasonable assessment of James’s career to date, so he has to do something to persuade those who select candidates for Labour list seats that he’s capable of getting his name in a newspaper other than the Daily Record. Otherwise his career goes much the same way as Janette Krankie’s career as a race equalities spokesperson in Japan.

The occasion of James’s bid for fame, desperately needed since he’s not even famous in his own bathroom, was a debate in Holyrood on the Tory government’s evil Trades Union Bill. Both the SNP and Labour are opposed to the bill, so for once Labour was deprived of a chance to blame it all on Nicola Sturgeon. However the Presiding Officer of Holyrood, Tricia Marwick, ruled that on legal advice the debate wouldn’t be able to go ahead since it dealt with a matter reserved to the Westminster Parliament. In the UK, only Westminster and the Tories are legally permitted to screw over the working classes.

James wasn’t going to take this sitting down. I’ve got a point of order, he said, repeatedly, without bothering to inform anyone what that point might have been. He used that excited voice of his that he uses when he’s just thought of a way of saying that the SNP are bad that hasn’t yet appeared in the Daily Record. It’s not really that different from the boring nasal monotone that he uses the rest of the time, so you’d be forgiven for not noticing. Tricia Marwick certainly didn’t notice, and asked him to get to the point that he was pointing about. James kept on in his nasal monotone, something about how he’d once been to Rothesay for the weekend and it wasn’t shut. Or maybe it was something else entirely. Whatever it was, it wasn’t a point of order, or indeed any sort of point at all. All we saw was a burst plastic bag waft aimlessly about the debating chamber while the Presiding Officer tried to run it over with a trolley. Eventually she succeeded, and demanded that James be escorted from the premises and denied the right to participate in the two for one offer for deep frozen profiterole sundaes. James went off to spend his exile looking for a list selection panel to impress.

James’s eviction gave the Labour party the opportunity to complain about the SNP again, as Tricia Marwick used to be an SNP MSP before she was elected Presiding Officer and resigned the party whip as she is now officially neutral. One party state, muttered Iain and Neil, the Ant n Dec of Labour in Scotland and equally irritating, before they went off looking for some kangeroo testicles which they’d unsuccessfully insist that John Swinney had to eat for breakfast.

This week also saw the Scottish budget. Jackie Baillie went on Scotland Tonight to complain about it, although she was unable to say exactly what she’d do differently if she was the Finance Secretary. Jackie sees herself as being the royalty of Labour in Scotland, and comports herself like she’s on a work placement in the annoyingly smelling sprays and lotions section of a mid level department store. Whereas James Kelly is a burst 5p plastic bag from Iceland, Jackie aspires to be a 10p bag from Waitrose. Although she’s still burst. According to some theories of physics, there is an infinite number of parallel universes forming the multiverse, each one slightly different from its neighbour. And in every one of them Jackie Baillie is an embarrassment who wouldn’t recognise numeracy if it slapped her on the bum with a Trident missile.

The opposition parties in Holyrood are just going through the motions. They’ve already accepted that they’re going to lose the next Scottish elections, and instead of putting forward any programmes of their own, they’re spending their time desperately trying to secure what’s left of their own futures. The effective political extinction of Unionism as a real force in Scotland is looming ever larger. You can hear it in the whine in James Kelly’s voice, and the burst bag bluster of Jackie. Meanwhile Ruth Davidson congratulates herself because her party is standing still, although she’s not so happy when it’s pointed out to her that in Scotland the Tories are standing still at the bottom of a very deep cesspit without a ladder.

But Ruth is still cheerful, soon she’ll have Labour for company down there in the dark. And on the wall of the pit is a sign that says – you’re nonentities who are never getting out of here.


BUTRT cover front(1)BARKING UP THE RIGHT TREE Barking Up the Right Tree has now been published and is an anthology of my articles for The National newspaper. You can submit an advance order for the book on the Vagabond Voices website at http://vagabondvoices.co.uk/?page_id=1993

Price is just £7.95 for 156 pages of doggy goodness. Order today!

A limited number of signed copies of the two volumes of the Collected Yaps is also still available. See below for order details.


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.

Donate Button

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. Get your order in today – an ideal Christmas present!

Back from Boston with big news

I’m getting married. I was going to dress it all up in fancy words, but well – I’m getting married. Woo Hoo! I told my handsome American boyfriend Peter that the reason I was flying over to Boston for a long weekend was because I miss him and didn’t want to wait until the spring before seeing him again. While that wasn’t actually a lie, I did have an ulterior motive that I hadn’t told him about – and that reason was that I wanted to propose. I was terrified that if I had waited until spring that I’d have blurted it out in a text message, and I wanted to do it properly, in person, on one knee in a romantic location after a posh meal in a posh restaurant. And that’s exactly what happened. Then he said yes, and it was magical.

We’ve not set a date yet, it’s going to take a good while before we can sort everything out, transatlantic relationships are a bummer involving lots of paperwork and visa applications and all sorts of other red tape. We hope that Peter will eventually move over here, but UK immigration is horrendous. There may be a way around things involving a German passport, because there’s a chance that my hunky American boyfriend is really my hunky American boyfriend with dual US-German citizenship, but Peter will have to speak to a specialist lawyer in the US first.

The point however is that whatever the obstacles we will overcome them, and the man I love and I are now officially on a journey together, one which ends with us living together as husband and husband. Nothing is going to happen quickly, but everything worthwhile is worth waiting for, whether that’s living with the person you love, or indeed Scottish independence. Both those things are going to happen.

This is just a short blog update. I’ve got a lot to do today. I’ll be back tomorrow being ascerbic. I just wanted to share my news.


BUTRT cover front(1)BARKING UP THE RIGHT TREE Barking Up the Right Tree has now been published and is an anthology of my articles for The National newspaper. You can submit an advance order for the book on the Vagabond Voices website at http://vagabondvoices.co.uk/?page_id=1993

Price is just £7.95 for 156 pages of doggy goodness. Order today!

A limited number of signed copies of the two volumes of the Collected Yaps is also still available. See below for order details.


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.

Donate Button

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. Get your order in today – an ideal Christmas present!

Alistair Carmichael and his amazing incendiary underpants

I wasn’t going to blog anything today, because I’ve got packing to do and have to take the dug to stay with friends in Glenboig before I go away first thing tomorrow morning. But the fact that we live in a country where not only is it deemed acceptable for a politician to lie to the electorate, but that same politician plays hard done by for being called out for his lies. It’s not the betrayed who are the wronged, it’s the betrayer. It’s not the deceived who are the victims, it’s the deceiver. It’s not the cheated who are the casualties, it’s the cheater. British democracy lies bruised and bleeding, kicked in the teeth by elected politicians who cry like weans when the punters dare to want to hold them to account. Don’t get above your station little people, here are some shiny lies.

Alistair Carmichael is a liar. There’s no dispute about that fact. Alistair Carmichael lied to the public about an untrue smear in order to secure his own election and that of his sorry fellow travellers. But because he didn’t tell a lie about another individual candidate then it was ruled that in law his lie is acceptable. Alistair Carmichael may be crowing in the press about how he was cleared, but he wasn’t cleared of lying, he wasn’t cleared of misleading the electorate, he wasn’t cleared of deception. What we discovered today is that in Britain we have no defence against the mendacity of politicians, that sophistry counts for more than truth. Alistair Carmichael lied in order to keep his job, he deceived us all in order to be able to influence our laws and to continue to tell us what to do. We’re being bossed about by a liar, we’re being told what to do by a man who cheated and lied his way to the moral high ground. That’s just fine with our political masters, that’s just fine with our unionist media.

And what’s worst of all is that we’re disgusted, we’re appalled, we’re repulsed. But we’re not surprised. We live in the UK where being a member of the establishment means getting a free pass, a free expense account, a job for life, and never ever being held to account. Don’t imagine you can insist on higher standards for those who set themselves above you. We’re just the peasants and the punters who must show respect. Tug your forelock and go and watch Strictly. The message from above is that there is nothing you or I can do to change anything. Accept your lot, accept the lies, accept the deceit. Truth and honesty is only demanded of the poor and powerless. This is the UK, where the marginalised march to the foodbanks but we feast on a diet of lies and the road to ruin is illuminated by Alistair Carmichael and his amazing incendiary underpants.

This is a country where it’s not wrong for politicians to lie. It’s not wrong for journalists to mislead. It’s not wrong for the establishment to deceive. It’s only wrong when ordinary people demand that the powerful be held to the standards that the powerful rule for the rest of us. Then it’s bullying, then it’s abuse when ordinary people from Orkney have the audacity to demand that their political representatives abide by the same standards of common decency that the rest of us are obliged to uphold. And that’s what provokes the outrage of the powerful, not the lies or the deceit, but the nerve of the little people who think big.

This is Britain where the only dreams you’re allowed are dreams of lottery wins or celebrity game shows. This is Britain where the best you can hope for is a lower interest rate on the loans and debt that will burden you throughout your life. This is Britain where the rich buy indulgences for their sins from a pre-Reformation media and the poor are visited by the inquisition. Poor Alistair, his pants light up our lives and we have the cheek to complain.

It wasn’t just Alistair Carmichael whose career was under scrutiny during this court case. It was the entire British political class. Carmichael’s survival was no vindication, no proof of moral rectitude, no certificate of robust health. It is proof that the rules are pauchled, that the gemme is a bogey, that the playing field is skewed. The judges ruled that he did lie in order to affect the outcome of the election in Orkney and Shetland, Carmichael and the British establishment escaped the consequences only because that same establishment has drawn the rules so narrowly. It’s not a vindication of Carmichael, it’s not a vindication of the law. It’s proof that we live in a corrupt and rotten system which has not got the slightest intention of ever reforming itself. There is no light at the end on the tunnel. It’s just Alistair’s underpants.

In the land of the lie the truth is dangerous. In the land of deceit honesty is a crime. It must be clear by now to even the most obtuse that the United Kingdom is incapable of change. The safer faster change promised by Gordie Broon during the independence referendum was a lie just like Carmichael’s lies. The respect that was promised by David Cameron was a lie just like Carmichael’s lies. The most devolved parliament in the world that they told us we’d get if we voted no was a lie, just like Carmichael’s lies. Britain lies in the gutter, but we’re not looking at the stars. All we see is the twinkling fire of a hundred thousand underpants.

There is no hope that things will ever be any different in Britain, no chance of change. The only way out is to leave this bankrupt state and start afresh. We face nothing but anger and disappointment, insults and offence until we leave the land that belongs to the incendiary underpants and go live in a Scotland that belongs to its people.

The brave Orkney Four deserve our support. They now face the cost of the legal action for daring to believe that Carmichael should be held to the standards of common decency and truth. Donate generously.
https://www.indiegogo.com/projects/the-people-versus-carmichael#/

I’m off for a few days visiting first thing on Thursday morning, so there will be no updates to the blog until Wednesday of next week.


BUTRT cover front(1)BARKING UP THE RIGHT TREE Barking Up the Right Tree has now been published and is an anthology of my articles for The National newspaper. You can submit an advance order for the book on the Vagabond Voices website at http://vagabondvoices.co.uk/?page_id=1993

Price is just £7.95 for 156 pages of doggy goodness. Order today!

A limited number of signed copies of the two volumes of the Collected Yaps is also still available. See below for order details.


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.

Donate Button

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. Get your order in today – an ideal Christmas present!

The mass extinction of Unionist monkeys

Usually you can find Unionist monkeys up every tree, chucking poo at the SNP with the aid of the Daily Record, and gibbering more embarrassing nonsense than Donald Trump with a microphone as they planked their arses on a safe seat. Now it seems like the once ubiquitous Unionist monkey is an endangered species. The jungle is awfully quiet these days, the monkeys are nowhere to be seen. The not at all celebrities of the Unionist establishment have got out of here, and we haven’t even needed to sit through hours of Ant and Dec in order to achieve it.

Chancers, careerists, con-merchants on the make, they all used to dream about landing a nice wee number as a Labour constituency MP or MSP. The selection procedures for the Scottish Parliament elections should be coming to a close by now, but there’s a shortage of Unionist sacrificial monkeys. Labour sources report that the party can’t find enough candidates for every constituency seat in Scotland as those who do fancy a career as a monkey with a red rosette fight one another for a place on the list instead. It used to be that a Labour constituency seat was a passport to a cushy career for life with a nice expenses account. In years to come people will write psychological horror novels about the misbegotten souls who actually aspired to become George Foulkes. Then they’ll make a movie about it and a wide eyed child actor will say to the camera – I see dead political careers.

Being selected as a Labour candidate for a constituency in Scotland is now an open invitation to a counselling session with Haley Joel Osment, so Labour’s wannabes are fighting it out over the limited number of places on the list. Sitting MSPs, rejected MPs, and former cooncil leaders are playing musical chairs with the last remaining list seats, each one hoping that they can get their bum on a place while the media band is still playing the Internationale. Each one is trying to shove the others out the way before the music stops for good and all that’s left for the Labour party in Scotland is the silence of the vacuum between James Kelly’s ears.

Reports in the press now however say that Labour is struggling to find quality candidates. Although when you look at Anas Sarwar, Jackie Bailley, and Gordon Matheson you really do have to wonder about the definition of “quality”. The only characteristic that Labour’s representatives excel in is the thickness and shininess of their brass necks. The party has been without any meaningful purpose since Tony Blair was elected party leader. Labour became a party that sought power for power’s sake, but now they’re out of power in Westminster and in Holyrood and there’s no realistic prospect of them getting back into power any time soon. The party is running out across the chasm of public trust supported by nothing but the hot air of media puffery and the self-regard of a political class that hopes its inflated sense of its own worth will substitute for policies, talent, and ability.

Labour is having such problems getting itself elected anywhere that George Foulkes has proposed in the House of Lords that the Scotland Bill should be amended to give Scotland its own upper chamber to revise and control the legislation coming out of Holyrood. George thinks it’s dangerous that we have the SNP in control in the Scottish Parliament, although he wasn’t overly concerned about a one party state when Labour was in charge in Scotland’s large cities, in Holyrood, and in Westminster too. George isn’t so much worried about democracy in Scotland as he is in finding way that his party colleagues can keep their grasp on the gravy train.

It’s not just Labour that is struggling to find electable candidates. The Tories are also have problems, although even if the Tories were able to persuade the Dalai Lama to stand for them he’d still struggle to get elected. Mind you, if the Tories were able to persuade the Dalai Lama to stand for them then they wouldn’t be Tories. Anyway the thought of Davie Mundell dressed in his mammy’s best orange curtains is too disconcerting. That’s not the sort of Orange that the Tories are traditionally associated with in Scotland. And it’s because of that association that the Tories have reportedly been making an effort to find younger and trendier candidates. Which still doesn’t explain why they’ve chosen Adam Tomkins, who’s about as with it and trendy as your grandfather dancing at a One Direction concert.

Given the implosion of recriminations and self-loathing that passes for a Labour party in Scotland, capable of nothing except fighting itself and sending out press releases containing nothing but the words “SNP” and “bad”, Ruth Davidson hopes to position the Tories as the largest opposition party to the SNP. If that does happen, it won’t be because Scottish voters are persuaded by the dubious charms of apologists for George Osborne, Iain Duncan Smith and Davie Cameron, it will be because the arse finally falls out of the Labour party. The Tories’ vote continues to drop as its elderly supporters shuffle off to the Orange walk in the sky and the great cosmic tea room where net curtains are twitched for all eternity. Doing crap but getting into second place because someone else is even more crap than you are isn’t much of a victory, but it’s the best the Tories can hope for.

Then there’s the Lib Dems, whose fate is sealed irrespective of the outcome of the court case against Alistair Carmichael. The verdict is due to be delivered tomorrow, and it’s going to be a verdict on British democracy. Either the judges will rule that it’s wrong that Carmichael lied, and order a fresh election which will likely wash away the last Lib Dem stronghold in Scotland, or they’ll rule that on a legal technicality it’s OK for our politicians to lie to the voters. In either event, the Lib Dems are ruled to be liars.

It’s not healthy for Scotland not to have an effective opposition, but the truth is that Scotland IS the opposition to the corrupt and morally bankrupt rule of the British establishment. Normal politics will not be restored until independence, that’s the only way we’ll get a healthy political ecosystem.

I’m off for a few days visiting first thing on Thursday morning, so there will be no updates to the blog until Wednesday of next week.


BUTRT cover front(1)BARKING UP THE RIGHT TREE Barking Up the Right Tree has now been published and is an anthology of my articles for The National newspaper. You can submit an advance order for the book on the Vagabond Voices website at http://vagabondvoices.co.uk/?page_id=1993

Price is just £7.95 for 156 pages of doggy goodness. Order today!

A limited number of signed copies of the two volumes of the Collected Yaps is also still available. See below for order details.


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.

Donate Button

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. Get your order in today – an ideal Christmas present!

Has anyone seen Kezia?

Has anyone seen Kezia? She’s as elusive as Johann Lamont was when she was branch office manager of Labour in Scotland. Kezia is as elusive as Jim Murphy was ubiquitous. Every day Jim stood on an Irn Bru crate before the fawning ranks of the Scottish press to announce policies on things like the exploration of Mars and how alien life forms seeking to parasitise humanity would be totally different from a Labour MP’s expense claims. Jim’s policies may well have been as fictitious as the existence of the Scottish Labour party, but the one thing you couldn’t accuse him of was being shy of proferring an opinion – even if that opinion was invariably that the SNP was terribly, terribly bad, and that in Jim’s view Jim was the best thing to happen to Scotland since the country emerged from underneath the melting glaciers at the end of the Ice Age and people started to complain about the rain.

Kezia doesn’t do opinions, plural. If you trawl through all of Kezia’s public pronouncements you’ll find that she’s only got a single opinion on everything. That opinion is that the SNP is terribly, terribly bad. She’s quite keen to offer that opinion, but not to offer any others because other opinions might involve some joined up thinking, and joined up thinking is hard. Far easier just to blame the SNP.

Labour is currently looking to blame the SNP for the closure of the Forth Road Bridge, even though it was the Labour party that voted against building a second road crossing and then spent all its time criticising the Scottish government for the decision to use Chinese steel in the new bridge even though it was the actions of successive UK governments – including Labour ones – which ensured that there’s no Scottish steel industry capable of supplying the kind of steel required for a new bridge. The UK media is now investigating whether it was the decision of the SNP to vote against war in Syria that caused the unleashing of the Kraken to attack the bridge. The closure of the bridge sparked off hundreds of jokes on Twitter from Edinburghers about how Fife was now shut of from civilisation with no escape from Gordie Broon. It is however terribly unseemly of the capital’s residents to gloat as it should be pointed out that Amazon’s warehouse is on the Fife side. So Seasons Greetings Edinburgh online shoppers, your Christmas is in Kirkcaldy.

Anyone who lives in Scotland and has ever turned on the BBC knows by now that absolutely everything is the fault of the SNP, including the extinction on the dinosaurs whose footprints were recently discovered on Skye. Although to be fair the SNP are responsible for the extinction of Labour dinosaurs, although despite the SNP asteroid which wiped Labour from the electoral map in May, Labour’s dinosaurs seem to be as unkilloffable as an annoying character in a leading BBC sci fi programme and continue to stalk our TV screens. It’s said that after the body expires it takes the brain a few seconds to realise that it’s dead. It’s been several months since the Labour party in Scotland was decapitated, yet its mouth still won’t stop moving, proving that both the Labour party and the Scottish media are exceedingly slow on the uptake and have less intelligence than a corpse.

While we are all fully versed by now in the myriad ways in which the SNP is exceedingly bad, what we don’t know is what Labour’s policy is on just about any topic you care to mention that doesn’t involve blaming the SNP. Does anyone know what the policy of the Labour party in Scotland is about going to war in Syria? Since even the Daily Mail struggles to lay the blame at the door of Nicola Sturgeon, Kezia hasn’t said, and no one in the normally eager Scottish media has bothered to ask her. They’ve been far too busy hounding Natalie McGarry, because probable accountancy errors in the accounts of a non-profit organisation are far far more important than finding out whether the second largest political party in Scotland has a view on whether or not Scotland should be going to war.

We’re not supposed to question our political masters’ decision to take us to war. This is because it’s the act of a statesperson to take the decision to risk civilian deaths and to destroy a foreign country for no other reason than a tokenistic exercise in making the UK look good in the eyes of its allies, whereas it’s bullying and disrespectful of ordinary punters to demand that the same legislators explain and justify their actions.

Meanwhile the Herald newspaper crowed that “Scottish fighter jets” were to be involved in airstrikes on Syrian targets. And there was us thinking that Scotland didn’t vote to become independent last year so there’s no such thing as a Scottish fighter jet, just RAF fighter jets. If they were Scottish fighter jets then it would be Scotland’s elected representatives who decided whether or not they’d be involved in airstrikes. But 57 of Scotland’s MPs voted against taking action in Syria. The misuse of language is a pathetic attempt by Unionists to make out that Scotland is punching above its weight and is involved in world affairs only thanks to our subordination to Westminster.

If they’re really Scottish fighter jets then Trident missiles on the Clyde must also be Scottish nukes – so why can we not get rid of them? Because the truth is, as any child could tell a Unionist journalist, that Scotland has no control at all. Scotland doesn’t decide whether this country goes to war or not, Scotland doesn’t decide whether to have nukes or not. Scotland does as its told, and no amount of media spin is going to put a positive gloss on that sorry state of affairs.

Holding the Labour party to account falls through the cracks in the Unionist case for the Union. They’re the last Unionist party with any support in Scotland, and that support is more corroded and cracked than the pillars on the Forth Road Bridge. Unlike the Forth Bridge, there’s no amount of duct tape that can repair Labour’s fortunes, although if we could tape it over their mouths when they launch into another bleat of SNPbaaaad then the world would be a happier place. All that’s left for Labour and the Union is to slowly fall into the sea of Scottish indifference, and be washed away on the tide of public opinion, taking the Union with them. It’s getting closer every day.


BUTRT cover front(1)BARKING UP THE RIGHT TREE Barking Up the Right Tree has now been published and is an anthology of my articles for The National newspaper. You can submit an advance order for the book on the Vagabond Voices website at http://vagabondvoices.co.uk/?page_id=1993

Price is just £7.95 for 156 pages of doggy goodness. Order today!

A limited number of signed copies of the two volumes of the Collected Yaps is also still available. See below for order details.


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.

Donate Button

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. Get your order in today – an ideal Christmas present!

In the land of the mad the sane are crazy

Amidst the claps and cheers of Tory MPs, Britain is at war again. A few months ago SNP MPs were castigated for clapping in the Commons chamber, but it seems that it’s fine to clap as long as you’re clapping bombing raids and war, as long as you’re clapping the militarism of the British state. In the British parliament you can applaud inhumanity and combat, but not a young MP’s humane and compassionate speech. Clapping is only wrong if you’re Scottish secessionists who want to rescue their country from the farcical charade of Westminster. Clap. Clap. Crap. Crap.

The MPs applauded because Britain is at war again. A dead Syrian child on a Turkish beach provokes outrage around the world, but a hundred dead Syrian civilians killed in British bombing raids is an acceptable level of civilian casualties. The British state has decided that their lives are worth risking for its self-importance. David Cameron’s self-esteem is more important than a life unlived, more crucial than a life cut short. The pride of Britain counts for more than the beating heart of a Syrian child, more than the twinkle in the eyes of lovers under the moon, more than the grief of a mother and father. Britain will do its bit to create chaos and then our politicians can strut the world stage on the backs of the dead.

But Britain is only doing what the British state defines itself by. Britain is defined by war and its establishment needs war in order to justify its existence. All this has happened before, all this will happen again, a merry go round of murder. A nation which defines itself by its military prowess, by its obligatory public fetishisation of pride in its armed forces, by its need to “stand tall”, is a nation that can never know peace. Like an alcoholic who crawls out of bed and reaches for the bottle, the British state needs war in order to feel normal.

Just one, just one more sip, just one more bombing raid. I can give it up whenever I want. Just one more and then I’ll stop. Honest, you can trust me, I’m the British state. Have I ever lied to you before? Iraq? That was just a misunderstanding. Just one more war, and then I’ll stop. One more, until the next one. I need this. I’ve thought it all through this time, no really I have. Just one more war and all will be well. Until the next one. You need me to have wars for you. I’m the British state. Why aren’t you proud of me?

Britain will always be at war. It’s good for business. Today the defence companies reported that their share prices soared like a Vulcan bomber. But we should call these companies what they are. Companies whose business is the production of means of killing and maiming human beings are not defence companies. They’re offensive companies. And the British state keeps offensive company.

War is the normal state of being in the UK. When our statepeople stand in the Westminster parliament and say that Britain needs to go to war because the UK must live up to the expectations of our allies, they’re saying that Britian must go to war because Britain has always gone to war. When right wing commentators say Britain must go to war because Britain is a warrior nation, they’re saying that Britain must go to war because we’ve always gone to war before. The only justification required for war is that we’ve always been at war. Past wars justify future wars in a never ending cycle. War justifies war.

For the British state the purpose of war isn’t to achieve peace, the purpose of war is to promote the British state, to make Davie Cameron feel good about himself. Without war, without combatting a threat – real or imagined – the British state has no purpose. So we get more wars so that the people don’t see the British state for what it really is, a lethal parasite that sucks us of our children and our resources, that bleeds us for its own aggrandisement and tosses us aside when we’ve been bled dry. There’s always a food bank for the servicemen who serve no more.

This war in Syria is a war that can’t be won because victory can’t be defined. You can’t bomb warped ideas out of existence. You can’t defeat madness with madness. What’s the exit strategy? What counts as victory? Who is going to destroy ISIS? There are no answers to these questions that the government doesn’t want to answer and the media doesn’t want to ask. Our government and a large segment of the Labour party repeat the same mistake that the UK’s establishment made in Iraq and in Libya, they don’t learn, they never learn. Yet the media claps and cheers along with the braying politicians. We’ll keep going down the same bloody road to catastrophic chaos, but we’ll do it with a union flag amidst appeals to patriotism and that makes it all alright.

What exercises our media on this shameful day when Britain once again drank deep from the trophy of destruction is not that we are at war without any clear idea of how to define victory. What they’re upset about is that Alex Salmond said that Hilary Benn’s late pacifist father would be birling in his grave after Hilary gave an impassioned speech to justify a bombing campaign that is incapable of delivering peace but can only deliver destruction. And all of a sudden the Westminions discover a sense of moral outrage, angry on behalf of a rich and well connected warmonger whose feelings they claim have been hurt by someone who is opposed to a senseless war.

Having sold off all the institutions and nationalised companies that once informed a sense of Britishness, there’s nothing left to Britain but a hollow shell, and it’s filled with high explosives. The media bangs on about a British identity because there’s nothing left to a British identity but the bang of bombs and the claps and cheers of careerists in the Commons. Wave your flag, cheer the troops, it’s the Great British pageantry of death. If you oppose war you’re a terrorist sympathiser. In the land of the mad the sane are crazy.


BUTRT cover front(1)BARKING UP THE RIGHT TREE Barking Up the Right Tree has now been published and is an anthology of my articles for The National newspaper. You can submit an advance order for the book on the Vagabond Voices website at http://vagabondvoices.co.uk/?page_id=1993

Price is just £7.95 for 156 pages of doggy goodness. Order today!

A limited number of signed copies of the two volumes of the Collected Yaps is also still available. See below for order details.


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.

Donate Button

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. Get your order in today – an ideal Christmas present!