Today, like many of us, I’m anticipating the result of the most important political contest of the year, the outcome of which will have major ramifications for our political leaders. What will be the extent of tactical voting? Will those with a vote simply use it to settle old scores? Will the quality of the candidates even be considered or are the voters’ minds made up even before voting gets underway? Will the pundits, experts and commentators be proved correct?
This year, the UK’s entry will be sung by X-Factor finalist Andy Abraham (oh, come on! I must have fooled some of you!). Like most Scots, I will be cheering him on. After all, I remember the feeling of (British) national pride that coursed through my blood in 1981 when Bucks Fizz triumphed with their subtle blend of taste, profound lyrics, catchy post-Dylanesque melody and ripping off their female members’ skirts.
Now news emerges that Scotland will have the right in future to submit its own entry.
So that’s it, then. Game over. Alex Salmond has won. We unionists might as well pack up and go home. The whole point of nationalism was never to gain control of oil revenues or establish our own sovereign parliament; the prize of submitting our own version of “Congratulations” (“Gaun yersel!”, anyone?) was always the biggie.
So, actually, there’s not much point to the SNP any more either, is there? Surely now that they’ve achieved this barely-dreamed-of result, they can leave us with the consolation prizes of Westminster retaining control of less important stuff like the economy, defence, taxation, social security, pensions, broadcasting. Not too much to ask, is it?