The Sunday Ishmael 6/2/2022. Scotland, Best Part of England

 There can't be many people who still believe that the National Insurance Scheme removed money from people's wage packets and invested it into a national pension pot fund to accumulate in value until the date of their retirement, when it would pay out a weekly State Pension to allow little old ladies to choose to purchase two sausages  and a tin of cat food. How could it? Following the implementation of the 1946 National Insurance Act in 1948, basic state pensions were immediately paid out to those eligible by virtue of their age - who had obviously not paid into the scheme as no such provision to collect contributions existed prior to the Act.

 

   It was not a funded scheme, but a "pay as you go" scheme. National Insurance contributions from citizens of the United Kingdom are used to pay the state retirement pensions of older people in the United Kingdom. Money in, money out. Which is why it is a bit of a worry when the old buggers just keep on living and there are insufficient adults of working age to stump up contributions to pay them their sausage and cat food money.

Up in Scotland, however, Fatty Blackford is relying on the inability of the tribesmen to grasp this fairly straightforward fact about the funding of the State Pension system. In an interview on the 2nd February,  Blackford stated that following Scottish independence, the government of the remaining UK will be responsible for paying the Scottish state pension after a Scottish exit. The next day, Nicola Sturgeon was asked at First Minister's Questions if the SNP's position now really was that pensions in an independent Scotland would be paid by English taxpayers. The cheeky cow not only endorsed that position but stated that the Scots are going to have really great state pensions, much better pensions than England and that Scotland will not pay for those pensions. The SNP has finally realised that an independent Scotland is not fiscally viable, but the solution advanced by Fatty Blackford and Mrs. Fish is to insist that  a secessionist Scotland, unique among the world's independent states, will have a large chunk of its welfare bill paid for by a foreign country.

Fatty Blackford really has had quite the week. In his staged row with Speaker Hoyle, at PMQs, he dramatically reiterated the unforgiveable insult in the House, of accusing the Prime Minister of lying (they are Honourable Members, for fuck's sake and therefore incapable of lying), despite being given every opportunity by Mr Speaker of rephrasing his insult. Then he flounced out. Followed by his gang. At least he wasn't wearing the Bright Blue Suit. Obviously took my sartorial advice.

If you've been wondering where Fatty Blackford sprang from, here's a brief introduction to the Man in Blue.

Charles Kennedy, very well-liked despite, or because of, his persistent drunkenness, was Liberal Democrat  MP for the seat now known as Ross, Cromarty and Skye (Highland, rural, remote, heathery and peaty notes in the whiskey). At one point, he was the leader of the Lib Dems, but stood down from that role in 2006 after acknowledging his struggle with alcoholism, which persisted until he died on  the 1st June 2015 at the age of 55 of a major haemorrhage, stated by the post mortem to be "a consequence of his battle with alcoholism".

Fatty Blackford, a merchant banker for Deutsche Bank, re-cast himself, entirely unconvincingly, as a Skye crofter to secure the seat for the SNP and immediately instigated a vile campaign against Kennedy, adopting the unsubtle dog-whistle campaign hashtag: ‘Where’s Charlie?' Blackford’s chum, Brian Smith, convener of the SNP’s Skye branch, wondered online if Charles, ‘has “a problem” that stops you going to Westminster?’ Up to election day, Smith bombarded Charles’s social media sites with abuse, describing him as ‘our own arch-Quisling’.

Smith was soon one among many Cybernats. One of Charles’s constituency staff had to work full-time on deleting social media abuse. There were vile anonymous messages attached to Charles’s car and pushed through his letter-box. When he returned home after the confirmation of his defeat, the bins had been emptied across his driveway. The level of sheer cruelty was beyond comprehension – and all totally unnecessary in terms of the election’s outcome.

Blackford won the seat with 20,119 votes, constituting a 48.1 percent share of the vote. Kennedy, for the Liberal Democrats,  achieved 14,995 votes, a 35.9% share of the vote.

Three weeks later and after 32 years as MP for Ross, Cromarty and Skye, Kennedy died and the constituency is represented by Ian Blackford, now Westminster leader of the Scottish National Party and "a man rich in hyperbole, bombast and bluster". Brian Wilson, 24/2/2021: "Ian Blackford and the Hounding of Charles Kennedy"

mr ishmael wrote an obituary for Charles Kennedy on the 2nd June 2015: 

 

Dipso Charlie's Gone Awa'  2nd June 2015

God knows there's no shame in being a drunk;  when you think about it,  why we are not all drunk is a curiosity. Kennedy, however,  was no ordinary drunk, like all career politicians he held the rest of us in contempt, pretending that he stepped-down as Chief ShitEater  voluntarily,  to deal with his addiction, when, in fact, it was only his imminent exposure by a former close aide which prompted his crass, Doing The Right Thing  resignation speech.  Without the threat of exposure, Kennedy would have stumbled along, deluded and deluding, if he could have, right into Downing Street and the nation's defence, pissed as a rat. That is one of the many shameful episodes of the now defunct LibDem episode, that an entire political party lied to the nation about the fitness for office of its leader. Even Big Al remarked to me, at the time, that it was all hilarious.

Kennedy's toilet-stalker colleagues, as they did with ShitGobbler, Mark Oaten, with DogShooter, Jeremy Thorpe, with perverter of justice, Chris Huhne  and notably with  David Steel and child sexual abuser Fat Cyril Smith; all rallied around, Them against Us-ing, lying, dissembling, distorting and lying some more. More than any other filthsters, the LibDems, on the doorstep, the hustings and in the House are a pack of filthy liars, opportunists and bullies; Straight Simon Hughes or  Predator Mick Hancock, take your pick, it is a party of degenerate monsters and I suppose Kennedy's being a gobby, show-off dipsomaniac was pretty small beer by comparison with most of his mates.

It is true that he opposed the Iraq war, so did most people, it is not a matter for eulogy, one right thing, in a career of wrong things.  There will be no crocodile tears in my patch  of the Highlands and Islands.

I was in Fort William just a couple of weeks ago, Kennedy's home town, a grim, poor, tatty-looking place, only the mountain walkers keeping it afloat;  that might be due to the Tribesmen's perpetual freezing of council tax and slashing of jobs - most of their warriors dinnae do work; see me, benefits is m'right, cuz  a yon oil, we dinna have tae work, fuck that Tory shite, eh? ... so that aspect of Tribal rule doesn't  bother them - but an MP's duty is to fight for his constituency, that's what all these loathsome maiden speechers are saying at the moment,  and not for a thousand-pounds-a-gig  seat on the dismal Have I Got Stale News For You Show, among all the other preening sataristes faux.

 FortWilliam was no testament to a hard-working local MP.  Still, now they have a Tribesman at the helm, the fucking place'll collapse entirely, like everywhere else they get hold of. All England's fault, ye ken.

Kennedy was a confirmed bachelor, until, just like fellow-bachelor, Mr Gordon snot, he thought  he might find himself in Downing Street and so promptly married and bred, like normal people do.  Soon, though, the marriage,  along with the dreams of power, withered and died. Funny, how love can be.

Maybe the recent loss of his seat, his father and the sourness of his marriage, conspired against his mind.  Doesn't matter.  People die miserably every day, nothing special about this gilded gabshite. MediaMinster, however, will force feed us like Strasbourg Geese with his oily merits and starchy achievements - youngest this, greatest that, unique contribution to the nation. We must gird our loins against an onslaught of Field Marshal Pantsdownisms, all our hopes that he'd fuck off into a hatless wilderness dashed. A second breath to Paddy's great statesmanship-of-stupidity, le morte-de Charlie.

God fucking help us, he'll never shut-up.

Well, you know, Charles was my second-in-command  before I was promoted Field Marshal i/c, the Balkans and when he took over he did a damn fine job, a damn fine job. In due course I shall be writing a book or two about what a fine subordinate he was, perhaps writing some articles but for now I have a full schedule of interviews to do for our colleagues in the Media part of MediaMinster, not that there's any difference between us, eh? Stand easy, there.
Cyril Smith?

 Never heard of him, 
watch out or I'll have you on a charge

Best of all, Nutter-Gnasher is doing Charlie-mourning, too,

 although yesterday she would have called him anti-Scottish, an unpatriotic Tory, a fearmonger, the whole lexicon of SNP horseshit. Maybe she'll take a day off from crucifying Alastair Carmichael's family but it is most unlikely, a one-party state, that's the new bonny Scotland she insists we need, horrid, arse-faced  little mutant.

 Unlike Gnasher, Kennedy was returned, to Westminster, what, six or seven times, so he obviously did something to please people. There will be gurning in the Great Glen for some time. Friends of Danny Alexander, if he has any, just down the road, may put him on suicide watch and there may be a national sympathy for the ghastly LibDems, Kennedy's  death might actually do them some service;  it  can't, let's face it, do them much harm.

 

..............................................

In other Scottish news, the entirely inappropriately-named Mr. Good Willie doesn't get to play for Raith Rovers after all. He's good at playing football, but seems to suffer from testosterone poisoning. Following his conviction in June 2008 for assaulting a man in a Stirling nightclub, he was fined £250. The following year he knocked a nightclub doorman unconscious and was fined £200.  And then, his crowning glory, together with a team-mate, in 2011 the two lads raped a woman incapacitated by alcohol. The victim was awarded £11,000 by the Criminal Injuries Compensation Authority, and a further £100,000 in the civil court. He appealed, but 3 appeal judges at the Court of Session upheld the ruling against him and his chum. You can't keep a Good Willie down, though, and in
2012 he was sentenced to a 12 month probation order and 80 hours of unpaid work for repeatedly punching and kicking a man in a Glasgow take-away incident.

 

Val McDermid isn't going to buy any more shirts for Raith Rovers, and you can't blame her. 

Scotland - where winning at football is more important than deterring assault and rape.

I must say, I've been surprised by the high incidence of assault and murder since I moved to Orkney. I've had to step around the puddles of blood on a Monday morning on the pavement outside my office. And it really is best to avoid the pubs and chippies down by the harbour of a night.

 

Do you know about Michael Ross? He's been back in the news in consequence of his recent appearance by video link at Hamilton Sheriff Court, where he was sentenced to two years to run concurrently with his life sentence, for yet another escape attempt. He is held in a high security prison - HMP Shotts in Lanarkshire, and this escape attempt involved cutting a hole in the fence around the sports ground, then using a home made ladder to attempt to scale the periphery fence. His lawyer, Aamer Anwar (remember him? scary smug lawyer bastard, ishmael passim16/05/2021), presented the argument that Ross knew the escape attempt would not be successful but had wanted to draw attention to his conviction appeal. Why, then, had he stuffed his pockets with food, clothing and a toothbrush? 

Ross is a determined and dangerous man - trained by the British Army,  decorated for his military service in Iraq and sergeant of the Black Watch sniper platoon - and I'm sure there'll be a feature film about his persistent escape attempts. The previous one took place when he was being transported to Monklands Hospital from Shotts. The G4S security van had come to a halt when he made his attempt. No details were released but G4S confirmed the incident and said no members of the public had been put at risk.
The most spectacular escape bid was after his murder conviction, in the High Court in Glasgow, when he leaped the dock and ran. A court official brought him down and subdued him. The Judge excused the jury from any further jury service, so unsettling had the escape attempt been. He had a hire car parked nearby, packed with survival equipment and a Skorpion machine gun. He subsequently wrote: 

"The ­military side of me was thinking that I needed another option other than just rely on people I don’t know. So I thought, if it looks bad in the last week of my trial, I will just go and live in the hills in the Highlands and just live off the land....I had done a few survival exercises in the army and a little ‘conduct after ­capture’ training on my sniper section commander’s course. I did have some army rations in my kit for ­emergencies but it wouldn’t have lasted long. In my kit I had a sleeping bag, bivvy bag, poncho and a roll mat for sleeping and shelter. I had boots, camouflage army uniform for hunting, fleece, waterproofs and some civilian clothes. I had cooking pots, condiments like salt, pepper and curry powders, also tea, coffee and sugar. I had several knives for skinning and cutting game and an axe to build ­shelters. I had an air rifle for hunting small game like rabbits, pigeons and pheasants.The Skorpion machine pistol I had was for hunting bigger game like roe deer. I know a lot of people will probably think‚ ‘Yeah, right, a machine pistol for ­hunting, pull the other one’."

And his index offence? He was convicted of murdering a waiter in 1994 in an Indian restaurant in Kirkwall as a boy of 15, by shooting the man in the head in full view of the families, including children, who were dining in the restaurant. It was said that his motive was to kill the man because he was non-white. Michael Ross avoided arrest and conviction until 2008, assisted by the good offices of his father, who served a prison sentence of four years for perverting the course of justice by destroying evidence. During those years he joined the British Army, where he was trained to be a more efficient killer. 

 

Like Prince Andrew, he has maintained his innocence throughout, supported by his family.

"Michael Ross is innocent" demonstration

Strange how the Saltire seems to have become an issue in this.

Solution to last week's anagram:

Heartfelt Bonehead is an anagram of Blade on the Feather. (The Eton boating song.)

 

 Today's Anagram by mr verge: 

 

boar dick flan

 

Should you wish to read the thoughts of  mr ishmael and his young friend stanislav, there are two anthologies available, edited by mr verge: Honest Not Invent and Vent Stack - which are available to buy for mere money from Lulu or Amazon. It is cheaper to buy from Lulu. Register an account with Lulu to save a couple of quid, as going straight into the link provided below seems to make paypal think it's ok to charge in dollars, and apply their own conversion rate, which will put the price up slightly for a UK buyer. Once the new account is set up, follow our link; a pop-up box asks for age confirmation - simply set the date to (say) 1 January 1960, and proceed. (If you type the title, the anthology will not appear as a search result until the "show explicit content" box - found at the bottom left by scrolling down - has been checked.  You may also see the age verification box, as above, at this point.) 

 The full title is "Vent Stack love from stanislav" by ishmael smith, and the cover you'll see is red with white titles and a picture of Buster the Previous Blog Dog having a green thought in a green shade. 

Link for the paperback:

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shorter link, which might make it easier if you wish to paste it into an email and tell a friend:

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 Honest, Not Invent is available in paperback or hardback.

Link for Hard Back : 

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Link for Paper Back : 

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At checkout, try PROWRITINGAID15, WELCOME15 or TREAT15 in the coupon box, which  takes 15% off the price before postage.  If this code has expired by the time you reach this point, try a google search for "Lulu.com voucher code" and see what comes up.  

With the 15% voucher, the book (including delivery to a UK address) should cost £10.89

Is there no end to this?