The blogosphere is infected with a culture of casual amnesia and delusion which encourages independence followers to overlook the less savoury aspect of Hyde Park Corner styled polemic and substanceless assertion. This week in AhDinnaeKen, a fictitious blog post from the co-Editor of pretentious arty farty blowhard blog Bella Caledonication.
Auto-da-fe is the symbolic act of burning a heretic. It was first gaily explored by the Spanish Inquisition in 1481. We’re not allowed to do that in Scotland any more thanks to the subjugating laws of the oppressive Unionists at the despised Westminster. What we can do is burn the hated symbol of that oppression – the Union flag. The burning of flags has a fine well embellished tradition amongst Muslim Jihadis, Irish Unionists and Scottish fanatics.
By Kevin Williamsonoforange
Part the 1st – My Struggle – Gettin the matches to light (should have used Scottish Bluebell)
AS SOMEONE who has never burned a flag or lit a fag from a burning butcher’s apron in my life, the following indulgently frothing diatribe is my attempt at keeping the record evasive.
In 2006 I was still reeling from the realisation that no one would ever take me, my ego, my beliefs, or my Scottish Socialist Party membership seriously enough to elect me to the Big Parish Cooncil at Whollyrude.
The party was full of splitters, liars and chattels of bavardage – people like me.
For the sake of unity, solidarity and insincerity I decided it was time to split.
DADDY CAN WE GO TO THE BURNING
I threw in my lot with another load of nescient nutjobs calling themselves the Butcher’s Apron Burners Independence Emancipation Society (BABIES).
Every year us BABIES descended on Glencoe and committed an act of Union Flag auto-da-fe in order to heat our hands, warm our hearts and fire our souls.
It is a completely meaningless but highly symbolic risible event, full of contradictory nympholepsy ending in predictably dull nullibiety.
But, on the bright side, there’s a lot of shiny red flags, Irish rebel flute tunes, awfy braw Victorian value kilts, and people wi’ chips on their shooders the size o’ a bag o’ Ayrshire tatties.
Things changed when the Mainstream media forces of Unionist Hootsman oppression chose to attack me for my flag burning antics.
Efter aw, ah’ve turned mah back on aw that, split, and become the secretary of the Scottish Independence Convention’s Kakistocracy Objectives (SICKO).
I sorted the Hootsman oot like the true SICKO I am. I published their working telephone number and, in keeping with the new independence culture of casual dishonesty, decided to be casually dishonest about a news story they ran on me.
Never before have I read such a straight, honest, accurate and incisive piece in a rag dedicated to oppressing the Scottish people’s heroic struggle for freedom.
GARROTTING FOR LAST MINUTE REPENTANCE
When they asked me about my blog covering the Union flag auto-da-fe ceremonial, I told them straight: 1) “A big boy did it and ran away. 2) Ah dinnae ken. 3) Ah cannae remember. 4) Get it upye’s. 5) Ye’s will rue the day ye’s tried to show me up – it’s mare than flags that burn ye know.”
Further, I blogged about it in my arty farty pretentious blowhard blog entitled Bella Caledonication. I’m proud to say my piece “Media Notables” made Firstminster Salmond’s casual dishonesty look honourable.
But certainly, the smears and attacks against my good name proved completely and fairly founded – strictly adhering to the basics of news principles of Who, What, Where, Why and When.
Next Blog – My Struggle Part the 2nd – Puttin’ oot the fire wi’ gasoline.