Rab McNeil
Hello voters 25 June 2010 What could they have been thinking of? Lord knows, the calibre of candidate from all parties standing for the national nuthouse is poor enough as it is, without attracting the sort of person who peruses such an organ. I’m not unfamilar with the magazine under advisement. Not that I’ve ever appeared in it. Their last reply to my invitation featured such words as “unattractive”, “boring”, and “who”. I’ve seen the magazine frequently in dentists’ waiting rooms and, while it contains nothing to read, the photographs of celebrities, royals and footballers bring a smirk to the mooth. These are supposed to be our gods and goddesses. Beautiful many of them may be, but one cannot help think that there is always something missing. I know what it is. Class. And since the Tories are, generally speaking, a class-based party, leavened by a few weird proles from cooncil estates, why they are looking to such a shallow publication is a matter of some mystery. It’s not as if they’re a particulalrly bad lot as it is. They’ve often struck me as the most decent bunch of folk at Holyrood – certainly, they’re able to laugh at themselves which, in their situation, is always handy – so I cannot think what is wrong with the selection procedures they have in place already. I fear that, deep down, what some wonk is wanting is more neds, spivs, and media-savvy charlatans. News that the party’s leader, Annabel Goldie, auntie to the nation, might stravaig away in her sensible shoes and give up the doilydraped helm surely only confirms that the party is positioning itself in a very dark place. Having aggressive, rude, media-wise types in place may see them secure more seats, but that isn’t the point: we don’t want any more of the buggers elected. We’re quite happy with the number they have, a smallish rump of sensible souls at ease with the political world, because they needn’t concern themselves with worries about the decency-sapping reality of power. News that they may change their name to Scottish Reform or the Scottish Unionists or Forward March! bring forth only more titters. Reform and conservatism, strictly speaking, mean two different things, though it may simply be an acknowledgement that there really is no such thing as conservatism any more, as there is nothing worth conserving, and Tories today tend to be full of nutty ideas and almost revolutionary ideals. Calling themselves Scottish Unionists would have unpleasant connotations with Northern Ireland, where their Union flag-waving counterparts are a distinctly dodgy lot who seem forever to be in a purple-faced rage about something. Life, probably. Anyway, whatever they decide to call themselves, I will continue to call them Tories. Only the Daily Mail, which still calls the Scottish Government the Scottish Executive, will collude with the deceit. But why Hello? Surely, if they wish to put nation before party and attract a better calibre of candidate, they should be advertising in the Journal of Classical Studies, Still Feet (magazine of the Campaign Against Dancing), and Whither? (“the magazine that ponders”). And what will the advert say? “Are you a pompous windbag? Do you enjoy making grand speeches that are never reported anywhere? Could you cope with an irate wifie blaming you for the dampness in her bathroom? You could? Well, go away. We don’t want your sort. We want swashbuckling, devil-may-care types. The sort of man who wouldn’t think twice about poking Gordon Brewer in the snoot. The sort of woman who could skin a fox while simultaneously swigging gin and undoing the pin on Iain Gray’s nappy. If that sounds like you, then come on down! And it doesn’t get any further down than us! What have you got to lose? Everything! Please apply in confidence to: The Scottish [insert suggested name here] Party, 2b The Sidings, Culloden Street, This Great Country of Ours, England.” The party itself believes it has a “toxic” image, due to lingering memories of the Thatcher Experiment. But it’s more to do with its general identification with Englandshire. It’s seen simply as an adjunct of the party that’s largely based in the shires of southern England. Waving the Union flag every five minutes only adds to the Land of Hope and Tory image. Even the uber-unionist Labour Party tends to fight shy of that sort of thing. We wish the Conservative Party well, up to any point where they become relevant or, heaven forfend, electable. Their only real hope is for Scotland to become a normal, independent country, with normal left and right politics. Only then could they come into their own, with economic policies specifically relevant to the place where they actually live. When they stopped looking past you to the south, like a rude person at a party, eventually they’d slough off their image as eccentric, comical and slightly creepy hangers-on to their superiors in the shires. In the meantime, they should say goodbye to Hello, and consider advertising in Whither? Or at least give it some thought. Related articles: Politics and principles 3 September 2010 Off the menu 11 June 2010 Life but not as we know it 28 May 2010 Magnetic result 17 May 2010 Of local interest 26 April 2010 See all articles in this category Submit a comment |
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