Dear Dirty America

MICHAEL J BLAIR
Perthshire, Scotland 

I have deliberately ignored the glorious delight, which is the SNP annual conference.

There is usually far too much alcohol and hot air around. And this time would be no different.

But I couldn’t resist dipping my toe into the latest flash of genius from Ms Ironpants, or the Great Leader, as she is called by her more servile supporters. She is revered by one and all. No criticism of her is allowed by members, ministers or MPS.

This is written into the SNP constitution. Another sign of control freakery and the communistic tendencies of this “democratic” political party.

As always, vast quantities of alcohol was swilling around, making every word from the Great Leader seem like droplets of liquid gold as they flowed from her small pursed lips.

She can do no wrong in the eyes of the rabid Sporran Legion. Her status has been elevated to God-like proportions. And this time was no different. They giggled like schoolgirls as she delivered her words of wisdom.

She had been preceded by the very un-God-like Education Secretary, Jolly John Swinney. This is a man who has taken dullness to new depths. Charm oozes from him, like whisky from a breeze block.

He used to be in charge of Scotland’s finances until he was given the “opportunity” to be demoted to education or sacked. Of course his being a man of great principle, he took the demotion to take charge of the most poisoned of chalices, trying to improve Scotland’s appalling education policies.

His latest brilliant plan is to bribe, oops, offer £20,000 to people to retrain as mathematics, science and engineering teachers. This was greeted by the faithful, as if he had discovered how to turn shit into gold, but as usual, it is actually the exact opposite.

Anyhoo, back at the smug fest which is a Ms Ironpants speciality, the Sporran Legion was waiting with bated breath for the climax of her performance. She had them on tenterhooks, with coy references to the big announcement.

At last the moment arrived, and several thousand adorers held their collective breath.

She didn’t disappoint. The announcement was indeed breathtaking.

She was going to give the Scottish people electricity and gas for next to nothing. Utopia indeed. She was setting up a scheme to buy stocks of energy at very low prices, and pass this on to the eager Scottish people.

A hush came over the massed ranks of Sporran Legion. But after a second, the roar rumbled around the auditorium and was soon joined by wild cheering, stamping of feet and hands clapping like performing Sea Lions.

This woman had turned into a Messiah. A giant amid the midget which is Scottish politics.

They cheered long into the night, only stopping to slurp down another pint of “Old Ironpants” light headed beer. It looks like the real thing, but has no substance.

Singing rocked the bar rooms all over Glasgow. Much like the pools of vomit which had to be cleaned up all over Glasgow the next day.

Another hugely successful conference was over. The Sporran Legion was more than satisfied with the performance of their Great Leader and that of her minions.

The rest of the country was not so impressed. Saying that the cheap energy prices wouldn’t last, and were only being used to make up for the sheer lack of decent policy announcements.

Surely a leader of Ms Ironpants’ stature wouldn’t use cheap tricks like that to keep herself and her party popular?

That would be unthinkable!

Utopia or myopia? You decide!

Follow The Party of Common Sense on Twitter, at @tpocs

ALSO BY MJ BLAIR

Trump & Clinton Effect: Democracy Deliberately Destroyed

Vote Bollocks Or Water Buffalo

The Brexit Turkeys have come home to roost

[Header image of floating utopia, courtesy of  Daskunstmuseum; Wikimedia Commons]