The State Of The Union

It has often been said that the Scots and the English are the best of friends and the worst of enemies. Indeed it is strange that two such different countries have been bound together for so long. It's 300 years since the Act of Union with England, and the creation of the United Kingdom, and now people are beginning to ask, what does the Union mean to us today, and is it still necessary or relevant to the needs of a modern Scotland?
When the decision was taken by a group of unelected noblemen to dissolve the Scottish parliament 300 years ago, it was said that they had been 'Bought and Sold for English Gold'. For centuries, the Scots had resisted any attempt to be brought under English rule, many battles were fought, more lost than won, but the will to be free and autonomous has always run deep in the Scottish psyche, and from that passion sprung forth documents like the Declaration of Arbroath : 'for, as long as but a hundred of us remain alive, never will we on any conditions be brought under English rule. It is in truth not for glory, nor riches, nor honours that we are fighting, but for freedom - for that alone, which no honest man gives up but with life itself.’
Extract from the Declaration of Arbroath. The declaration of Arbroath is thought to have been the inspiration behind the American declaration of independence.
However, the modern Act of Union was drafted at a time when it was no longer acceptable for England to rule in dominion over Scotland and strip its assets, both monetary and human. It was devised as a partnership, but any partnership between a large nation and a small nation will undoubtedly be troublesome, as the small nation will never feel it has enough involvement, and the large nation will feel that the smaller has too much involvement. It is also extremely difficult to govern such a partnership, as what seems like a good measure for the south of England is most decidedly not a good measure for the North Of Scotland. This is where, in my opinion, the Union begins to creak. Margaret Thatcher knew that Scots would never vote for her in great droves, as we have always been something of a liberal country, so she opted to keep her core electorate happy, and closed down steelworks and shipyards and all of Scotland's manufacturing industry, moving them piecemeal to the South of England. She destroyed this country by grinding it slowly and painfully into the ground. The conundrum nowadays is that the Labour government has given us back our own parliament for devolved issues i.e. everything bar our own fiscal autonomy and control of defence. The killer here is that Scottish MSP's in Edinburgh can vote on matters of Scottish policy and English MP's no longer have a say on this. Fair enough, you may say, but in Westminster, Scottish MP's can vote on English policy matters and help the government force through unpopular measures. This is the cryptically titled 'West Lothian Question'. In the last general election, the Conservatives would have won had it not been for the Labour MPs returned from Scotland and Wales. Now that the Scottish parliament Elections are coming up in may, and the Scottish National Party are ahead in the opinion polls, Labour are scaremongering about how terrible it would be if the Nats were to get in, and sever ties with the UK. How taxes would go up, and there would be mass unemployment and so forth. I think that it's fairly obvious why they want to hang on to us. They would never win another election down south without us.
Plus Gordon Brown (the chancellor of the exchequer) is a Scot, and is set to succeed Tony Blair as Prime Minister, but he will only have a short tenure before the next election. In a recent poll (done by Frank Luntz, of all people?!?) 70% of English voters responded that they would not vote for Gordon Brown because he is Scottish. I think that is the death knell for the Union, if someone can't attain the nation's highest office because of the country he hails from.
My own personal view is that there will never be a better time to go it alone. We have such a rich history, and world legacy that it would be unthinkable for us to fail as an autonomous nation. From Scotland, the country whose peoples have brought us the telephone, television, penecillin, chloroform, tarmac (asphalt), the tyre and the doctrine of capitalism itself, it would be a great opportunity to step out from the shadow of our nearest neighbours, and be a confident nation again, as part of the vibrant European Union. Most importantly, we have the will to make it work. I know which box I'll be crossing in May...

A man's a man, for a' that.

Well, we had our annual Burns night gathering last night. It was a really good laugh. I was slightly concerned because the neeps were shockingly difficult to mash, and I was frightened that we had got a rogue reedy one (or two). Turnip can be a really nice vegetable, but when you get a reedy one, by god it can be horrible, but a dose of patience, and a half pound of butter later, I got them to mash. We bought a huge haggis. Unfortunately it burst in the oven, so we had to do the tradtional stabbing with one of the smaller vegetarian ones. And I made my trademark mashed tatties. Also last year, the big yin must've brought a whole load of dishes over to my house from her flat, but now that she's moved in, we've no idea where any of them went, so we were shoving mashed potato and turnip in any old dish we could find. I dare say our presentation could have been 100% better, but everyone scoffed a fair portion, and there wasn't a tremendous amount left at the end. My gran had very kindly made us a clootie dumpling, but most were too full to sample it. I suppose it means that I'll be having dumpling for the next fortnight...
I wonder what Rabbie Burns would think if he knew that 200 odd years after his death
we'd still be getting together in his name for a celebration. I think he'd be quite proud. The man was a visionary. We could do with some guys with his basic decency around running the show these days. Here's his greatest poem, and one with a special relevance to our modern times. Maybe if we took heed of his words then we could enjoy life in peace...


Is there for honest poverty
That hings his head, an a' that? (Hangs)
The coward slave, we pass him by -
We dare be poor for a' that!
For a' that, an a' that,
Our toils obscure, an a' that,
The rank is but the guinea's stamp,
The man's the gowd for a' that. (Gold)

What though on hamely fare we dine,
Wear hoddin grey, an a' that? (Coarse Grey Cloth)
Gie fools their silks, and knaves their wine -
A man's a man for a' that.
For a' that, an a' that.
Their tinsel show, an a' that,
The honest man, tho e'er sae poor,
Is king o men for a' that.

Ye see you birkie ca'd 'a lord,' (fellow called)
What struts, an stares, an a' that?
Tho hundreds worship at his word,
He's but a cuif for a' that. (fool)
For a' that, an a' that,
His ribband, star, an a' that,
The man o independent mind,
He looks an laughs at a' that.

A prince can mak a belted knight,
A marquis, duke, an a' that!
But an honest man's aboon his might - (above)
Guid faith, he mauna fa' that! (mustn't)
For a' that, an a' that,
Their dignities, an a' that,
The pith o sense an pride o worth.
Are higher rank than a' that.

Then let us pray that come it may
[As come it will for a' that],
That Sense and Worth o'er a' the earth,
Shall bear the gree an a' that. (Have Priority)
For a' that, an a' that,
It's comin yet for a' that,
That man to man, the world, o'er
Shall brithers be for a' that. (Brothers)

Nollaig Chridheil Agus Bliadhna Mhath Ur!

Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!
It was with sadness that I discovered this year that Scotland ceased to be the only country in the world where Coca Cola was NOT the number 1 selling soft drink, that honour falling on the world famous Barrs Irn Bru (made in Scotland from girders, and the nation's favourite hangover cure - it works!)
Unfortunately, those fiendish villains over at Coca Cola decided to blitz this country in a wave of propaganda to erase the Irn Bru advantage. Humbug to you Coca Cola! You may have enough power to change the colour of Santa Claus' coat, but our tongues are still by and large luminous orange!! As long as but a hundred of us remain alive, we will continue to resist Coca Cola's dominion!

Does anyone remember the snowman? It was an 80's classic. Here's a wee Irn Bru spoof for you Crimbo delectation....look out for all the Scottish landmarks; the Falkirk Wheel,The Forth Rail bridge, Edinburgh and Eilan Donan Castles, Loch Ness....and nessie too..

Assessment

Further to my last post, here's the Betas in what I think is their finest hour. Enjoy. Ponder. Drink. Ponder more. That's what good music is all about!

The Watcher And The Tower, Waiting Hour By Hour

I dunno, but for the last 6 months or so I've found myself gazing up at the moon with boyish wonder. It has loomed large and bright in the night sky here over the last few months and we've been lucky to have had many a crystal clear night in which to gaze up. I thank my lucky stars that I wasn't pulled over by the rozzers for swerving about the road looking up at it instead of where I was going. I'm really not sure why it holds this fascination, or why at this time in my life I've suddenly begun to ponder the enigmatic hold it seems to have over humankind. I was certainly interested in space when I was a kid, and I was as fond of the idea of swooshing a lightsabre as the next kid, but I was never interested in the moon per se. I suppose when I was at primary school, it was accepted that humans had been to the moon, and that was that. Never in us from the beginning was the wonder instilled in previous generations. How would we do it? What was it made of, Cheese? Were there oceans there? Were there aliens? No one knew, and that made it all the more special when we went. I imagine that generation still holds the fascination, but for us it was just cold hard fact, rock and dust, and some metal in a museum.

I'm assuming that it started during my trip to KSC, where I saw the incomparable Saturn V rocket that took 24 men on the almost mythical journey to the moon. You can't help but wonder what it must have felt like to make footprints in the dust, in the knowledge that they'll still be there millions of years after you've turned to dust, or to plant the flag of your country in the soil, or to stand and take in the vast, colourless desolation all around.

The big yin doesn't understand my fascination either. Standing in borders looking at pictures taken on the moon landings I commented: 'isn't that truly magnificent?' She replied, 'not as magnificent as this', showing me stunning pictures of nature in it's finest here on earth from the beeb series 'Planet Earth'. 'Anyway, it's just a big ball of rock with nothing on it!' And she's right. It is just a big ball of rock with nothing on it, but I wonder if it's possible to truly appreciate the beauty and fragility of life on this planet unless you've stood on the face of a big ball of rock with nothing on it and looked back in the inky blackness towards this small yet wonderful oasis of life in the vast barren desert that is our galaxy? I'm a firm believer that humanity needs perspective, and what better perspective than being 250,000 miles from home. I'm sure that would make us appreciate everything that we have, and maybe jolt us into the realisation that there is only one earth. Once it's gone, it's gone. All the money you could dream of won't bring it back.

I believe America are going back to the moon in 2019. If they need a general layabout of a crewmember for a lunar landing mission, I'd be the first to volunteer. Besides, I make a mean freeze-dried cheese toastie. Hey, I know it's just a dream, but I'm definately going to be the first guy to plant the Saltire in the lunar soil.....well actaully, I'd be the second, and this brings me neatly on to my next topic......

This is Steven Mason, (First Scot on the moon) ;-p Sadly, it was only his dream too! I absolutely live for music. I know that's such a lame thing to say, but it's true. It seems to bring order to my life, and at the moment the glue that's holding me together is The Beta Band. I know I probably spend way too much time banging on about how great all things Scottish are, (When I'm undoubtedly looking through tartan tinged specs) but these guys truly deserve it. Not hugely famous, despite being quite prominently namechecked and played in hollywood movie 'High Fidelity', they quite simply are rock chocolate.

I can't really attribute them to any particular style, except to say they most comfortably straddle the Alternative Rock genre, but they stubbornly refuse to be categorisable. Some people describe them as Flip Hop, meaning that they are a mix of Folk and Hip Hop, but I would just say that I like them. A lot. And I would encourage anyone who remotely likes any kind of music to give them a try. In this world of downloads, it'll only take a minute or two of your lives to find them, but I'm sure you'll get the bug too. The best albums to try are Hot Shots II (The final song 'Eclipse' is a must hear for all sane people!!) and their last (and best album) Heroes to Zeros. They were short lived, and I wish they would come back. They were like a comet, streaking their otherworldliness across the bland face of british music. I emplore you to give them a shot. Happy listening!!

'You can't get a decent brew on this damn space station!!'

Where Does The Buck Stop?

I'd like to take this opportunity to urge any registered American voters to go out on Tuesday and wipe the floor with that bunch of self involved shills that constitutes the Republican party. I've been keeping one eye on the election cycle from across the pond, and whilst it's inconceivable to me why the Democrats haven't got this thing in the bag already, I'm pleasantly optimistic that come Wednesday morning, any shred of Authority that uneducated excuse for a president has will be well in truly buried. I can't believe that there are still decent people prepared to vote for these amoral self righteous sob's, and not only that, but are so blinkered to believe that these people are the guardians of moral values. Gie me a break!
It's perhaps impertinant for me to express an opinion seeing as I can't vote and it's not my country, but the ramifications of any election, however minor, in America has GLOBAL consequences. Please make George Bush's last two years in office unproductive ones....Lest he inflict any more damage on this poor planet than he has already.

You know the drill. Vote Dem.
Get to it!

Blah Blah Busy Blah Blah Knackered Blah Blah

I wont make any excuses, I haven't posted for ages cause I just couldn't be bothered. I had a great time on holiday in a little Spanish village on a mountainside up the back of Malaga. That's the first time in a while I've been away with other people, and whilst I may have got away with being a lazy sod had it just been the two of us, it wasn't to be the case. Plus being one of the only people in our party that can drive abroad, a lot of that fell to me. Driving in a foreign city isn't easy, but it's always worse when you're driving on the other side of the road. Why do the British have to do everything different from everyone else??
Still, it was a lot of fun, we cooked fresh food every day from the Malaga market. Our paella was (self-congratulatoraly) as good as anything you'd have got in a restaurant, and we chatted, drank loads of beer and wine, and went on pretty exciting excursions to Granada in the Sierra Nevada mountains, to see the Alhambra palace, and to Gibraltar. Alhambra was amazing. An arabic palace in to this date the historical furthest extent of the arabic empire. It's strange to think that until the 14th century, southern Spain belonged to the Arabs.
Gibraltar was bizarre, being as it is, part of Britain. we had to take our passports along in order to cross the 'border', and we could spend our pounds once across. It was weird aswell, as all the roadsigns, phoneboxes, shops and chippys were all the same as in Britain, even down to the bobby on the beat, with his bullet hardhat. We took a taxi up to the top of the Rock (one of the mythical pillars of Hercules) and could see right across the strait of Gibraltar to the other pillar a mountain called Ceuta in Morocco, my first sighting of the Continent of Africa. Plus, there was the added interest of the Gibraltarian apes, the only resident wild primates in the continent of Europe. (Phew, I'm not alone). The legend goes that if the Apes leave the rock, then British rule in Gibraltar will come to an end. They watch the apes like hawks, as the Gibraltarians are adamant they want to stay British, but the Spaniards want the rock back, and I'm sure they may have in the past tried to get rid of the monkeys to spook the inhabitants out!

Well anyway, I'm not going to make any grand sweeping promises about posting more often, I'll take it as it comes. I have thought of a few things that I could conceivably write about, but whether I do or not I shall leave to fate. That's just how I roll....