Friday 8:15 a.m.
For the last couple of weeks, I've been remembering the dreams I've been having, at least one of them every night. Over the last three nights, I've had a dream about keeping a polar bear in a bag in the lobby - it turned black and was a bit nasty at the end - and one about getting lost in Stenhouse (where?) and having difficulty getting a bus back to the city. The latter is kind of typical of my dreams, but Stenhouse wasn't full of psychos or folk chasing me with assault rifles and such. These dreams have been often incorporating things that I've been talking about, or seen on the telly, and such like.
Last night I watched a couple of political programmes before I went to sleep. The new coalition government has just brought forward proposals to privatise the NHS, more or less. Michael Portillo, who was once tipped to be a Tory leader, was asked why the Tories were bringing this in when they said before the election that there would be no top down re-organisation of the NHS; it wasn't in their manifesto, and neither was it in the agreement with the LibDems which set up the coalition government. He said this was because the NHS was the closest thing the British had to a religion and if the Tories had said what they were going to do, nobody would have voted for them.
After the Iraq War, I can't vote for the Labour Party anymore. I sometimes did vote for them, but I can't now. When Ed Miliband was making his acceptance speech as the new leader of the Labour Party, he said that the Iraq War had been a mistake. His brother, the defeated favourite to lead the party, didn't clap. He was sitting beside Harriet Harmon, the deputy leader, who was clapping. David Miliband asked her why she was clapping since she voted for the war. She replied that she was supporting her leader. That was it for me. Those bastards should all be in jail, not just Tony Blair.
However, fair play to them because they did give us devolution and the Tory plans to dismantle the health service will not apply to Scotland. Hurrah! This is the only reason I can account for the way the dream I had went last night.
The dream was mostly taken up with a conversation between myself and the Prime Minister, David Cameron. How convivial we were! I remember telling him I thought everyone should go to a school like Eton and that I was sorry I had set my heart against ever learning how to speak in public. I think I told him I'd like to help him as much as I could.
I can hardly claim to have felt good will to Tories during my life so far. In my favour I must say that a lot of my friends since I came to the beautiful, wonderful city have been the progeny of the evil bourgeois and have turned into their parents long ago, the kind of folk who traditionally have turned fascist as soon as times got tough; folk who went to public schools; bought shares under Maggie Thatcher; toadied up to their supposed betters; feathered their own nests, in fact, the kind of people who are all going to hell, the socal climbing, petit bourgeois, stupid people.
So although I cannot say I have been completely intolerant, having a pleasant and convivial time with David Cameron in my dream shows, I think, that I might be gaining in compassion.
I don't think politicians have ever been held in such low esteem as they are now. Come the May elections for Holyrood, I hope the Tories and LibDems disappear off the political map in Scotland. They probably will. We could be living in interesting times. It might be a long, hot summer.
12 comments:
That's a bit unfair. People need to get their moats cleaned out, surely?
The biggest problem is the pathetic proletariat. They expect to be taken care of from cradle to grave, without lifting a finger for themselves.
Jocky! The trouble with the pathetic proletariat is that they were dissolved by the evil bourgeois due to the latter's fear of folk who didn't grovel and cringe to their social superiors. Anyway, I'm going to Eton in my next life when I'm due a leg up from the aristocracy of labour into real toffdom!! Hotboy
We don't need the pathetic proletariat anymore, now that computers do everything. All we need is some Poles to fix things when they go wrong. We should get rid of all the Neds as well.
I say!
As you spend so much time with your eyes closed, I'm surprised that you can tell when you're awake, and when you're asleep!
By the way, I think Jock has made some relevant points. Is he, by any chance, related to the Strapps up at Livingstonia?
MM III
Mingin'! I'm afraid that Jocky is a typical Orangeman, a Mason Boyne if ever there was one, and I'm glad to have him commenting here on such a religiously inclined bloggy! However, the flute playing and marching up and down banging his drum has interfered with his presbyterianism, the best of which was always democratic and for the poor, just like Jesus. Everybody knows that the evil bourgeois only allowed the welfare state to exist because they milked it dry. Look at the postcode lottery around the good schools in Edinburgh. You can go to James Gillespie's if you have £200,000 to spend on a two bedroom shackamuni. Otherwise, you're children will have to sit beside poor people. And catch scabies. Thus allowing the evil basturns to put their money into trust funds so that their progeny can send their children to the fee paying schools where they will learn to love creekit and toady up to their English masters. Hotboy
Jocky! I don't mind you being steeped in the Lodge. Some of my best friends were Orange basturns. However, it's the slowly arising, due to their thickness, and the always deferring to their betters, those just above the scum, who are the worst fascist bullyboys of them all! Remember that the Lodge is Christian and like him maybe you should consider going and getting yourself crucified pour encourager les autres, the other Orange basturns. But thank you for joining our prayer meetings! Hotboy
I say!
I was confused. I was thinking of Jock Stirrup's distant relatives up north. Wrong bit of riding kit.
MM III
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-VeHmh2B5nY
All! Don't input the youtube link! It's the bloody Beach Boys again!! Hotboy
This is progress. Next thing you know, you'll be dreaming about dining with the aristocracy. Let me know if you want coaching on how to hold your knife and fork.
Albert? It's my pinkie I might have trouble with!! Don't think I really want to know what you get up to with yours! Hotboy
Hotters. At your age it's a bonus if your "pinkie" still works at all.
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