If I didn’t think I was living in a parallel universe before, I definitely do now! I’ve just heard that James Hamilton QC’s report has been published, clearing the White Stiletto of breaching the Ministerial Code. There is no hope. The end is nigh. Whatever happened to integrity? To justice? Has James Hamilton not paid his television licence? Did he watch the entire eight-hour tutorial entitled ‘How to, Successfully, Avoid Answering Any Questions Under Oath’? Once quoted as being as much as £75,000, it would appear that the Scottish Government’s commandeering of taxpayers’ money for the purpose of coaching civil servants prior to questioning before the Alex Salmond Inquiry committee has paid off. Money well spent! Then there’s the £512,000 of our money shelved out in reimbursement of Mr Salmond’s legal fees thanks, once again, to the ineptitude of a government which couldn’t be left in charge of a child’s pocket money! I am utterly disgusted. No words other than ‘We have to leave Austria tonight’ … A little cryptic, perhaps, but scarily relevant.
It is Tuesday, 23rd as I continue. I switched off my light at 11.15pm, last night, unheard of for me. I had had enough. However, if I went to sleep naively gullible, I was awoken to stark reality when I learnt that the White Stiletto has, actually, been exonerated of all charges of breaking the Ministerial Code by … her friend and long-time adviser to her government, James Hamilton! Independent? The dictionary definition is listed as ‘free from outside control’; ‘not subject to another’s authority’. Nicola Sturgeon, strategically, selected him to lead this ‘private’ investigation into her culpability and, then – surprise, surprise – select evidence was withheld. An exclamation mark does not suffice as indication of my abhorrence. Of course, more fool me; more fool us all – well, at least, those of us in possession of sufficient grey matter. We should have known that she had it all stitched up. Take the composition of the Alex Salmond Inquiry committee – five SNP members, including the Chair, and four others. Biased from the onset. I watched it! I watched her squirm as she desperately tried to avoid lying under oath by answering nothing! She was dead in the water – or, most definitely, should have been if justice had prevailed but, of course, there wasn’t a chance in hell of that, of which she was well aware. She knew she had a majority on that committee; the net to break her fall. I am only angry at myself for, once more, believing that baddies don’t win!
So, what is the future for Scotland in light of the fact that Nicola Sturgeon controls all she surveys? Proven to be ruthless, ambitious, deceitful, disloyal – and devoid of any taste in footwear, at the very least – she is nothing if not streetwise and, thus, adept at manipulation. Scary, believe me! I have just been sent a doctored video of her ranting in German. Granted, no visible moustache but …
The future? Well, in all seriousness, I cannot live in a country subjected to a dictatorship. The White Stiletto, it would seem, has ensured she and her puppets are accountable to no-one; she has her hand in every pie. Driven by her massive chip, ‘Thatcher was the motivation for my entire political career. I hated everything she stood for.’ – and with Alex Salmond out of the way – her life’s work is Scottish Independence at all costs; ironically, that cost being the future of Scotland. Not a jot does she care about what is best for the country. Make no mistake, she is driven by grievance and her hatred of those she believes more privileged than herself! Appearing on her platform, daily, throughout the pandemic – the caring, careful leader who, in reality, merely trailed behind Boris, feigning caution – was, all the while, working on her proposal for Indyref2. That, in itself, is outrageous. Amidst a pandemic, the far-reaching effects of which are devastating, she has the audacity to belittle the inevitable aftermath by continuing to focus on a vote which can only serve to cause further division and destruction. I, for one, still remember the aggressive unrest – dangerous, at times – ignited by the ‘once in a generation’ referendum in 2014.
Reasons to stay? Scotland is my home, in every sense of the word. I grew up here, as did my parents and their parents before them. It is a beautiful country with so much to offer but, COVID aside, the Scottish Nationalist Party embodies a malaise which has been crippling the country for well-nigh fourteen years. Masterminded by the power-hungry motivated by grievance, marketing is geared to the lower echelons who feel hard done by and – many, uneducated – are, thus, willing to follow without question; moreover, cleverly directed toward those who, little more than mounting blocks for Ms Sturgeon, are unable/unwilling to recognise the potentially irreparable damage she is doing to Scotland. In the end, they, too, are victims. Scotland is crumbling under the SNP, too focused on independence to bother about running the country. Education, NHS, police, drugs? Trivia to them. Hang on a minute, what about free university tuition for Scottish students? Smoke and mirrors. In truth, lies! Scottish students cannot secure places at their own universities anymore. St Andrews? Edinburgh? A Scottish accent is as rare as honesty from Nicola Sturgeon.
Once upon a time, Scotland was the home of the individual. A country deserving of pride, those who represented it, worldwide, were educated and well-spoken. Not anymore. Descending to the lowest denominator – nay, positively heralding it – I cringe at most in the media now. STV is just embarrassing, the accents positively grating. BBC Scotland is little better to the extent that life without the ‘mute’ button would be unthinkable. What happened? When did it become more important to sink down rather than climb up? What is the perceived end goal? Equality? It doesn’t exist by the very nature of human beings. We are individuals not sheep. Strive for fairness and the recognition of merit, rather; strive to be the best one can with no apology. This is not Russia. This is not China. I detest white stilettos, the epitome of …
The draft bill for Indyref2 was produced yesterday. Impeccable timing. Anyone for a new currency? Perhaps ‘The Sturgeon’? A new central bank? Notes emblazoned with white stilettos? An inevitable border between Scotland and England? The whole thing is ludicrous; non-sensical; destructive in the extreme. Nicola’s baby reliant on the support of …? Ah, yes, the Scottish Parliament Election Voting Guide came through the letterbox this morning detailing – together with how to put a cross in a box – the extended net for potential voters, added to since 2016. Of course. Now anyone over the age of 16, resident in Scotland and of any nationality, can vote. Try this one: ‘qualifying foreign nationals (those who have permission to enter or remain in the UK, or who do not need such permission).’ Confused? You will be. The voting net extends to refugees and, moreover, to prisoners serving a sentence of 12 months or less in a UK prison, who would usually be resident in Scotland! Definitely deserving. Any potentials left out? What about toddlers under the age of two who choose to be addressed by the pronoun ‘they’?!
God help us! One year on since the original Lockdown, the mood is despondent. No, flat as a pancake, more like. With no prospect of travel, there seems little hope of normality any time soon; perhaps ever again. News of Nicola Sturgeon’s escape from political burial has done nothing to raise the spirits; in fact, more alarming is the revelation of the extent of her Putin-like grip enabling corruption devoid of accountability. To vote for an independent Scotland would be unthinkable. Who would have believed the responsibility on Boris’ shoulders? In the end, though, I do have faith in the silent majority. I believe in the intelligent, the educated, the individual. I like to think that good guys can still win …
‘I always liked western films because the good one always wins … I think goodies should always win.’
Captain Sir Tom Moore
You and me, both, Captain Tom.
This is Trish, signing off.
