The Scottish Question

For well over a thousand years, Scotland has been a pain in England’s proverbial arse. It is an annoying little tick that won’t concede defeat, and refuses to understand that it is outgunned and outclassed by England in every possible metric. It has a chip on its shoulder a mile wide. It is like a malignant canker which is nearly impossible to cut out and throw away, and yet remains determined to harm its host at all times. From an English point of view, Scotland is like a mentally ill child that endlessly tries to attack its nurses who are only trying to prevent it from harming itself and all those unfortunate enough to be charged with its wellbeing.

From Æthelstan to William of Normandy to Longshanks, the Scottish Crown—for what little it was worth—always had an inflated sense of its own importance and worth. Let’s be clear, Scotland is mainly just desolate mountains and lakes—its population is tiny. Like the princes of the Welsh Marches, it really has no place attempting to rival England. And yet repeatedly it did everything in its power to undermine and damage its superior neighbour. It is practically consumed by resentment.

For century after century, the so-called ‘Auld Alliance’ saw Scotland in league with France—and literally any other of England’s antagonists—in order to stab at England’s heart at any possible opportunity. This is how a bitter and spurned spouse acts towards an ex-partner who has moved on to bigger and better things; literally using any and all tools at its disposal for the pettiest and meanest of attacks. Living on the fumes of vengeance.

From an Englishman’s perspective, the situation has always been, and remains to this very day, utterly exasperating. Neither the carrot nor the stick seems to have made much inroads toward placating the Scot. Despite humbling them on the battlefield time and time again, despite allowing Scottish monarchs to sit upon the throne of England, despite incorporating them into a Union in which they benefitted beyond all measure, despite everything, they adamantly remain filled to bursting point with their own inferiority complex.

In recent times, Tony Blair’s cabal of Scottish politicians, the long-established ‘Scottish Mafia’, among many crimes against the people of Britain, were of course responsible for the policy of ‘devolution’. That is, granting to the smaller nations of our Union their own parliaments and ability to pass limited legislation for themselves. Something, no doubt, that in their twisted minds was the correct course of action, something that the gods of progress demanded. It has, however, resulted in a set of political adorations.

Most pressingly is the question of Scotland. We are now faced with a Scottish nation that is entirely at odds with Westminster. Blair set the scene and ushered in a set of circumstances which has rent Britain asunder. A crime unparalleled in centuries. A crime so egregious it almost beggars belief.

The Scottish National Party—ironically, the furthest thing from nationalist—are undiluted scum. They are the enemies of Britain and England as implacably as the Pakistani rapists who are a scourge on our society. They are treasonous. They are undisguised traitors. They are race baiters and perverts of the very worst stripe.

A great many normal Scottish people, the regular folk, are of course free from this madness. Of course, not all Scottish people want to rejoin the EU, or desire blanket diversity hires across their entire government and bureaucracy and loathe England with every fibre of their being. The SNP do not enjoy total and unconditional support. The 2014 independence referendum illustrated that slightly over half of them would prefer to remain as part of the United Kingdom. Yet despite this, Nicola Sturgeon cannot stop herself from endlessly calling for another referendum.

How about a couple of possible solutions to this most sticky of Scottish questions, then? I offer you two potentially emotionally satisfying remedies. Firstly, the complete and utter liquidation of Scotland as a political entity; the total proscription of the SNP as though they were Hizb ut-Tahrir or the Weather Underground. Send tank divisions and helicopter gunships to simply end the Scottish parliament in its tracks. English and Welsh infantry divisions pouring across the border. Drop the entire Parachute Regiment on Holyrood to demolish it entirely. Send Typhoons to bounce the rubble. Salt the earth where it once stood. Lead all SNP members, in hoods and plasticuffs, into perpetual imprisonment. Reverse every single aspect of ‘devolution’ and make the shires of Scotland no different, politically, to those of England. Basically, end Scotland’s political life.

Failing that, I suggest a divorce. A clean break. A hard border. Zero co-operation. Let them stand on their own two feet, for once. See how well they do for themselves. We’ll move our nuclear submarine base somewhere else; no problem. Let them sink or swim on their own merits. See if their tiny economy and industry are enough to support their first-world standard of living. As an Englishman, I am thoroughly sick of Scotland’s indignation towards my country. I say cut them loose. They are a millstone around our neck. Good riddance to them. Perhaps we can even deport the hordes of Scottish smack-head tramps that blight our cities back to whence they came while we’re at it.