WITH THESE HANDS...

I noticed on UK Polling Report that the figures for tonight’s (Wednesday's) YouGov poll for Westminster voting are as follows:

SNP 36%

Lab 34%

Con 21%

Lib 6%

Excellent result for the SNP and for the Tories. I'm not sure whether this is a poll done quickly AFTER today's financial statement from the Cabinet Secretary for Finance or whether it was done before and only released tonight.

Someone has worked out, however, that (fair as it is NOT), this poll would result in the SNP having 19 seats (+13) and the Tories 3 (+2). Labour would be on 34 (-7) and the Liberals on 3 (down 8).

Interestingly we were just talking about how incredibly disrespectful the Liberals have been to Scotland all week.

I think that they should take into consideration that on a system that was stacked against anyone ever getting a majority, but most certainly against the SNP, because of the geographical spread of their support, as opposed to that of Labour, the SNP won the election hands down. According to my calculations they won it on a First Past the Post basis, and they won it on a PR basis... Now we don't expect them to like it, but they need to live with the reality of it

All week, however, we have had Liberals like Malcolm Bruce tell us that we must be protected from Alex Salmond 's misrule. Now Eck isn't perfect by any manner or means, but misrule? Come on?

Michael Moore too, the guy no one had heard of until Laws blotted his copy book, has been talking tough about independence. (I thought he was an American film maker and satirist.) He obviously has some sort of illusion that he is someone of account. He tells us that he's going to campaign against independence and he's going to get all the cabinet to join him! Lordy, we are scared!!! We shiver in fear, or anticipation, or excitement, or maybe we just shake with laughter!

Eck used to say that when Mrs Thatcher landed in Scotland the SNP polling went up by several points. Just imagine the whole cabinet arriving, and someone making an on-mic blunder about the 'ghastly place' or 'terrible people'.... Yes!!

And then *Wee Willie Winkie and his four illustrious men proposed yet another commission on devolution. Yes, before Calman has even been incorporated, before the Scotland Bill has been enacted, Willie is going to have yet another commission. Does he, one wonders, have a few mates who need a cosy sinecure for the next few years?

Rather like the earnest but disorganised Wendy (with the brain like a small plant) and the whiny Iain Gray (Gray by name and grey by nature), Willie Winkie has been running through the toon opposing and carping, and taking great satisfaction from the fact that arch unionist papers like the Torygraph have been praising him for holding Eck to account.

[I suspect that Alan Cochrane has had lean pickings of late. The SNP has been so successful that finding negative stories about them has required greater than usual effort. Our Willie must have come as an answer to an old man's prayer, carping daily about nothing much. The profundity of what is said is of little import; as long as it's negative Alan can report it, and he's be happy to laud it and print it.

Well, according to these figures, it's not done them much good. They will all but disappear from the Scottish political scene in London as in Edinburgh.

Bye Bye Whigs.

*******

* Scottish nursery rhyme.

Wee Willie Winkie rins through the toon,

Up stairs an' doon stairs in his nicht-goon,

Tirlin' at the window, crying at the lock,

"Are the weans in their bed, for it's now ten o'clock?"

"Hey, Willie Winkie, are ye comin' ben?

The cat's singin grey thrums to the sleepin hen,

The dog's speldert on the floor and disna gie a cheep,

But here's a waukrife laddie, that wunna fa' asleep."

Onything but sleep, you rogue, glow'ring like the moon,

Rattling in an airn jug wi' an airn spoon,

Rumblin', tumblin' roon about, crawin' like a cock,

Skirlin like a kenna-what, waukenin' sleepin' fock.

"Hey Willie Winkie, the wean's in a creel,

Wamblin' aff a bodie's knee like a verra eel,

Ruggin' at the cat's lug and raveling a' her thrums-

Hey Willie Winkie – see there he comes."

Wearit is the mither that has a stoorie wean,

A wee, stumpie, stousie, that canna rin his lane,

That has a battle aye wi' sleep afore he'll close an e'e-

But a kiss frae aff his rosy lips gies strength anew to me.