A worried Davie Cameron appeared at a podium outside Downing Street on Tuesday to make an appeal to voters to save his political skin. He didn’t quite utter the famous words from the Simpsons, “Will no one think of the children?” but he came close enough and the sentiment was much the same. Mind you British politics descended into a cartoonish farce a very long time ago. It’s the politics of D’Oh. We’ve even got an evil capitalist Mr Burns, actually, we’ve got lots of them. It’s the only thing there’s no shortage of in the politics of austerity. Funny that, and not in a ha ha way.
Davie claims he’s confident that the vote is going to go his way on Thursday, because making a last minute emotional plea to the electorate and begging them to think of their weans grandweans is exactly what a politician does when they’re convinced that they’re going to win. Brits don’t quit, quipped the Cameroid, his brow sweating with the realisation that they might just do exactly that. There’s nothing like a meaningless content free slogan when you don’t have anything approaching an argument. Do it for the wean, he added, by way of an extra plead. It’s just unfortunate that in this case the wean in question is Davie’s heir apparent George Osborne, whom Davie wants to take over the reins of government after he’s slinked off into a well deserved obscurity. So it wasn’t so much Do it for the Gipper as Do it for the Gimp.
It’s not really that Davie thinks that George Osborne would be a fantastic Prime Minister. No one thinks that George Osborne would be a fantastic Prime Minister, although rumour has it that he’s very good at towel folding and getting into a full body rubber suit. It’s just that it would stick too much in Cameron’s craw to see the job go to his arch-rival Boris. Then we’d have a UK out of the EU governed by a posh Donald Trump, same clownish politics, same bad hair, same massive sense of entitlement. That’s as opposed to a UK within the EU governed by George Osborne. Same clownish politics, same bad hair, same massive sense of entitlement. We don’t have a political system or a constitution in the UK, we have a public school playground where posh boys settle childish scores and don’t care about the consequences for the rest of us.
The remain campaign has been utterly risible and driven by fear and negativity. People who started off as keen supporters of staying a member of the EU have had all the positivity sucked out of them by a disgraceful campaign that’s taken all the worst aspects of Better Together’s project fear. The only person who’s still enthused about the prospect of a remain victory is astronaut Tim Peake, who has spent the last six months in space and hasn’t had to listen to the fever pitch of scaremongering. That’s only because in space, no one can hear you scream.
The speech was met by lots of angry Tory Leave supporters whose campaign has been a production line of lies and closet racism complaining about what seemed to be the use of the apparatus of government in order to punt one side in a highly divisive campaign just two days before the vote. Most of those doing the complaining were perfectly happy when the UK government used the entire apparatus of the British state in order to batter the Scottish Yes campaign about the head in the last frantic week of the indyref. That’s been the real story of this EU referendum for viewers in Scotland. It’s a tale of two standards, two faces, and rampant hypocrisy.
We’ve had the ludicrous spectacle of Brexiteer Unionists who were perfectly happy for Scotland to be ruled by politicians that we don’t elect and can’t get rid of complaining that it’s unjust for a country to be governed by politicians that it doesn’t elect and can’t get rid of. We’ve had Michael bloody Forsyth of all people, pontificating about how unfair it is that our laws are made by unelected and unaccountable politicians that we’re stuck with no matter how we vote. You don’t say, Mikey, you don’t say. We’ve had the nauseating sight of Iain Duncan Smith on the one side, and George Osborne on the other, posing as the champions of the poor. It’s like the 17th century Hungarian mass murderer Elizabeth Bathory who tried to fend off ageing by bathing in the blood of virgins claiming that she was only offering Transylvanian peasant girls an opportunity in the beauty industry.
Remember the heady days of the Scottish referendum when Unionist politicians complained that the political process was cheapened and devalued when it was left to the plebs? Well this EU referendum is what politics looks like when it’s left to the Unionist professionals. This is a Unionist roadshow on both sides, and it reflects Unionist tactics and concerns. It’s a campaign which treats ordinary people like fools, which plays to base instincts, which portrays your wallet as your worth. There are no great principles in British politics any more, except how much you can get when you sell your house. Give me the amateur passion, the enthusiasm and the joy of the Scottish referendum any day of the week over this shoddy excuse for a debate.
The one good thing about this entire miserable farce that’s passing as an exercise in democracy which has been top down and top led from the very beginning is that the Tory party is now as divided and bitter as Labour. Given that the polls are too close to call, neither side is going to win a resounding victory. That means that the losers are going to spend the rest of this parliament nursing their grievances and seeking revenge.
Anyone who is confident about the result on Thursday is as delusional as the leaders of the Remain and Leave campaigns who think that they’ve fought a principled and honest campaign. It could go either way, I’m not going to attempt to predict the outcome. All I will safely predict is that as long as Scotland remains a part of this dysfunctional state, we’ll continue to suffer from the cartoonish politics of d’oh. Our only hope is that Scotland votes to remain and the rest of the UK votes to leave, then we’ll have an excuse to make an exit of our own. And that’s the only reason why I’ll be voting to remain.
I’m now taking advance orders for Volumes 3 and 4 of the Collected Yaps. For the special price of £21 for both volumes plus £4 P&P you can get signed copies of the new books if you order before publication, scheduled for mid-July. Covering the immediate aftermath of the independence referendum until the Yes campaign’s destruction of the Labour party in the 2015 General Election, it’s a snarling chronicle of Scottish history.
To reserve your copies, just send an email to email@example.com giving your name and your postal address and how many copies you wish to order. You can also order signed copies of all four volumes for the special price of £40 plus £4 P&P.
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.
Signed copies of the Collected Yaps of the Wee Ginger Dug volumes 1 and 2 are available by emailing me at firstname.lastname@example.org. Price just £21.90 the pair plus P&P. Copies of Barking Up the Right Tree are available from my publisher Vagabond Voices at http://vagabondvoices.co.uk/?page_id=1993 price just £7.95 plus P&P. The E-book of Barking Up the Right Tree is available for Kindle for just £4. Click here to purchase.