The Shoogly Peg

BOGGIN’: ACT [1] SCENE [1]

It is the day after the referendum, and Scotland has voted yes.

NANCY KIPPER IS ALONE. SHE TURNS A PEN IN HER HAND, SLOWLY.

THIS IS HER MOMENT.

SHE GETS UP, CROSSES THE FLOOR AND ENTERS THE ROOM NEXT DOOR.SHE IS IN A LARGE, ALMOST EMPTY ROOM. IT IS OCCUPIED PRIMARILY BY A LONG TARTAN CARPET, AT THE END OF WHICH SITS A WIDE MAHOGANY DESK. BEHIND IT SITS A MAN WHOSE SUIT LOOKS A LITTLE TOO SMALL.

“Good morning, Alan”, says Nancy quietly.

ALAN TURNS HIS HEAD. HE IS SMILING.

“Good morning, Nancy?” he cries. “Only good morning? This is the first morning of Scotia’s new dawn! The Caledonian dragon has awoken, and today it shall begin to roar! Ach, good morning indeed. Ye’ll need a better line in patter than that before we can put you in charge of the party”.

NANCY STANDS OVER HIM. SHE IS NOT SMILING.

“I think my patter will need to do as it is” she states. “It’s time, Alan.”

ALAN GETS UP, EXCITED.

“It’s time? Aye, indeed it’s time! It’s time that we galvanised this nation! It’s time that we reward its couthy, unco guid people for sweeping to the polls, for casting their Yes votes like nets unto the sea, in order that we, the Scottish Knobbly Knee Party can reap the fishy harvest! It’s time, Nancy, oh aye!”

ALAN HAS CLIMBED ONTO HIS DESK. HE PULLS A SALTIRE FROM HIS BACK POCKET AND BEGINS TO BELLOW “FLOWER OF SCOTLAND”. NANCY WAITS UNTIL HE FLOUNDERS ON THE THIRD VERSE, AND THEN PLACES HER HANDBAG ON THE DESK

“No, Alan. It’s time for change. You’ve always promised me a handover when the time is right. What better time could there be than our first day as a proper nation?”

BUT ALAN IS NOT LISTENING. HE HAS TAKEN AN ATLAS FROM HIS DESK DRAWER AND IS DRAWING A BIG SMILEY FACE OVER SCOTLAND. NANCY SIGHS, AND PULLS AN ENVELOPE FROM HER BAG.

“Alan. It’s got to be now”.

ALAN’S FACE PALES AS SHE PUSHES THE ENVELOPE TOWARDS HIM. HE SLIDES OUT SOME PHOTOGRAPHS AND SHUFFLES THEM SADLY. HE HESITATES, THEN RALLIES.

“Nancy! Surely you can’t be trying to hold me to a promise from yesteryear! It’s from another time, another era! We’ve entered a new chapter in this great nation’s dusty old tome! We-”

“No”. NANCY SPEAKS SO QUIETLY, ALAN CAN HARDLY HEAR HER.

“It has to be today, Alan. Otherwise, I’ll show these photos to everyone. The Scotsman, The Herald – even the Sunday Post will publish your secret”.

ALAN LOOKS AROUND, AS IF FOR A WAY OUT. FINDING NONE, HE REACHES FOR HIS BUNNET AND WALKS TOWARDS THE DOOR.

HE TURNS, BRIEFLY.

“You’ve got a good country here, Nancy. Be sure and take good care of it”

HE GLANCES WISTFULLY AT THE ATLAS ONCE MORE, AND WALKS OUT OF THE ROOM.

WHAT HAS NANCY GOT ON ALAN? HOW WILL THE SCOTTISH KNOBBLY KNEE PARTY REACT TO HER COUP? CAN SHE POSSIBLY SING AS WELL AS ALAN? TUNE IN TO THE NEXT EPISODE OF BOGGIN’ TO FIND OUT!

If that made no sense whatsoever, you probably haven’t watched this

The Shooglypeg has been sent a media release! This in itself is news, since no-one has ever considered it worth their while to do such a thing before. Of course, I immediately ran out to buy myself a pork-pie hat, shoved a “Press” card in its brim, and sat down with a pen tucked behind my ear to share with you my Shoogly scoop.

Which is as follows. There is going to be a pre-election debate on Monday in Glasgow, in the Parish Halls on George Street. Chaired by Lorraine Davidson, the hustings will involve Gordon Matheson, Lib Dem Paul Coleshill, Tory John Anderson and Allison Hunter for the SNP. Which will be interesting, given that quite a lot of Wednesday’s debate on Scotland Tonight focused on Allison’s absence and the unspoken allegation that the party high heid yins don’t trust her enough to put her on the telly.

If you are too distant, busy or lazy to be there in person, you can apparently watch the debate via The Modern Guide, Kiltr , or Gust. I think you might be able to take part online too, though I’m a bit hazy about the details. Still, local debate can only be a good thing: I may even pop down myself.

Everyone who works in politics wants to be in the West Wing. In reality, you might be shuffling morosely down a musty corridor in St Andrew’s House, but in your head you’re striding through the White House, en route to the Oval Office. It’s the snappy dialogue, the constant tension, the sheer cleverness of it all: but most of all it’s the speeches. Glorious, thoughtful, heart-wrenching speeches, woven together, usually at the last possible minute, by master craftsmen Toby and Josh.

Now, I’m not comparing David Cameron to President Bartlett, but he does seem to have a decent speechwriter on board. His appearance at the Tories in Troon today was peppered with ear-catching phrases. He echoed David Mundell in describing Alex Salmond as a “Referendum Roadblock”: an accusation I think we’re going to hear a lot more of. His line about the independence movie turning out to be more Chicken Run than Braveheart played well in the room, though it looks cheesy on the page. But his most evocative phrase came towards the end. He told the party that the welfare state was a “woeful, pitiful, factory of hopelessness”.

A factory of hopelessness. What a line. I bet David Cameron’s Toby or Josh was punching the air when he or she came up with that. Coupled with the earlier assertion that the Tories were ending the epidemic of irresponsibility and the something-for-nothing culture, I should think that speechwriter felt they’d more than earned their crust that day.

And the fact that the sentiment is totally wrong shouldn’t detract from the Tory Toby’s sense of satisfaction.

Because it is wrong. It is wrong to say that everyone on benefits expects something for nothing. Those who are ill or disabled expect that the society of which they are a part will not allow them to starve or be homeless. They expect that they will not be treated like vermin because they cannot work. These are not unreasonable expectations. And many such people will have paid into the tax system for years. They are not expecting something for nothing. They are asking for the safety net that they thought they had been constructing, each and every time they paid their tax and National Insurance.

There is no doubt that the benefits system needed reform. But the Tories who gathered in Troon today aren’t shaking things up in order to provide better help to ill and disabled people, or build people’s confidence up till they’re ready to find a job. They’re removing benefits from ill people after a year, whether they’re better or not. They’re sending sick and disabled people on a neverending treadmill of assessment and re-assessment, till eventually they give up applying out of fear and exhaustion. They’re crowing about the need for everyone to earn their own living, while lowering taxes for millionaires.

David Cameron’s speech was a good one. But words are only sounds and symbols on a page. What matters is what you do. And what the Tories are doing to the sick and vulnerable is so unfair, not even President Bartlett could have made it seem right.