I'd agree with that. No idea why anyone believes a word any politician says though.
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Those that have risen to the top in The Party are the nodding dogs who haven’t the cerebral capacity to have an original thought. That includes bifters like Robertson and Matheson, and two out of the three leadership wannabes. Forbes has at least some thought-processing mechanisms behind that sniper’s dream forehead. That makes her potentially dangerous to The Party Establishment who under Murrell and his beard Sturgeon were able to rule despotically with any hint of departure from The Party line stood on, and the non-disputatious groomed and entitled lamebrains pushed forward to parrot The Party line. I keep coming back to Animal Farm in analogising (not through my anus) the mechanisms by which this state of affairs has come to pass, and “4 legs good, 2 legs bad” is a succinct Orwellian summing-up of the Sturgeonite loyalists who have deluded and, I believe, intimidated those who choose to offer a different path to independence, inside The Party or in the wider political world.
The next 12 months are going to be very interesting if the cracks are wide enough to bring the factionalism into plain sight.
Yes.
But unfortunately you'd still be prosecuted for killing scum like that, so you just need to ignore them.
I take it baw-bags have now decided "wokerati" is a proper word?
Another that slides into the definition of "a word used by sociopaths to describe people who try to act decently" (see also "virtue signalling" and "social justice warriors").
"Sniper's dream forehead" 🤣
The worst place on planet earth is inside Tory HQ, when the focus group try and come up with this sh1t.
‘Left wing lawyers’…oh Rupert, you are awful!
‘Twitterati woke liberals’….that’ll work Tyrone!
‘Mr Flip Flop’…You’re such a cad Jeremy!
This is a major part of the issue, which came first though?
This fact is the one that turned me towards independence.
I was, historically, not in favour of independence.
My argument was that I had more to align me with, say, a brickie from Sheffield or a joiner from Tyneside than, say, scum like Michael Forsyth and Malcolm Rifkind*.
Sadly, as this century has progressed, and seeing how little inroads a landslide Labour (at least in name 🤔) government made into the fundamental problems, and the said brickie and joiner having morphed collectively into part of the populist problem, I believe totally that my only chance of ever living under a non-morally repugnant government is outwith Westminster.
If a UK wide body ever looks to have better than a snowball in hell's chance of achieving this, my outlook may change.
It's not ever happening though.
* Only two people on TV have ever induced the level of physical and verbal apoplexy I witnessed in my late grandfather.
Mavis Riley off Corrie "that fu cking wifey gars my erse rin clear watter" and other such prouncements, and Malcolm Rifkind "I canna thole that ferrety faced little ba stard" etc.
That Brickie and Joiner probably voted to steal your European citizenship.
Grandas are ace. I had as one a railwayman and trade union activist who loved Elvis, according to Ma. I can just remember him - I was 3.5 when he died aged 58. A German POW camp took away his best years. My paternal granda was a hard-working Banffshire crofter. The day before I went to school in April 1962, I remember sitting on a slidy metallic mudguard on his Fordie petrol-paraffin tractor as he ploo'ed his park before seeding it. It's now Keith Golf Club's 9th fairway. Shoulda left it in corn. He got to 90, despite the hardship. A kind and generous mannie. I am named after both.Quote:
* Only two people on TV have ever induced the level of physical and verbal apoplexy I witnessed in my late grandfather.
Mavis Riley off Corrie "that fu cking wifey gars my erse rin clear watter" and other such prouncements, and Malcolm Rifkind "I canna thole that ferrety faced little ba stard" etc.
My grandson thinks his Granda is ace. He and I live in The Beano around the mid-60s. Cushions balanced on doors, cactus plants on seats, carelessly-dropped banana skins, the Laurel and Hardy custard pie fight, and looking through the letterbox only to be soaked by a postie with a water pistol (they also hide, water soaker-equipped, inside pillar boxes, the crafty bstds). Any potentially-tricky situation can be undone by shouting "Yikes" to avert the peril.
Grandas should all live in the mid sixties Beano
It’s the only way to be.
My Granda is possibly the only person I ever looked up to. A committed socialist, albeit from a fairly rich family, he was a very respected trade unionist and principled man.
I've done him proud though in that I have stuck to his leftist views, which is no easy thing considering the murky political opinions within my own family.