'Ye Labourites by Name'

Loving this. 

ElliotSteven adapted the lyrics of Burns anti-war, humanist 'Ye Jacobites by Name' to 'Ye Labourites by Name' stuck it up on the cheesey blog and the delightful Weegiewarbler sitting on a boat somewhere sunny, I presume the Dominican Republic, belted out her take on it...Brilliant!

Ye Labourites by name, lend an ear, lend an ear;

Ye Labourites by name, lend an ear;

Ye Labourites by name,

Your fautes I will proclaim,

Your doctrines I maun blame--

You shall hear, you shall hear.

Your doctrines I maun blame--You shall hear.

II.

What is right, and what is wrang, by the law, by the law?

What is right and what is wrang, by the law?

What is right and what is wrang?

A short sword, and a lang,

A 6 month prison term

For them a', for them a'

A 6 month prison term For them a'.

III.

What makes heroic strife, fam'd afar, fam'd afar?

What makes heroic strife, fam'd afar?

What makes heroic strife?

To run wi'oot a fight

And excuse a coward's flite

Wi' bluidie war, bludie war

And excuse a coward's flite wi' bluidie war.

IV.

Then let your schemes alone, in the state, in the state;

Then let your schemes alone in the state;

Then let your schemes alone,

Adore the rising sun,

And leave a man undone

To his fate, to his fate.

And leave a man undone to his fate.

A giant leap for Mankind... It's more like a stumble in the dark.

When Space 1999 landed on one of our three TV channels in October 1975, the thirteen year old me was delighted. Here, at last was proof that nuclear power was unsafe. For those of with you with only memories for the kitch sets and Barry Morse's hair do. Let me enlighten you. Moonbase Alpha was Earth's Space Research Centre, where we had been storing our nuclear waste in gigantic bunkers on the far side of the Moon. Following a thermonuclear explosion, the moon is sent hurtling into space where the crew of Moonbase discover aliens, dystopian societies and all the mind-altering phenomena you're likely to encounter on a mystery bus tour with Iain Gray and Baron Ffoulkes of Cumnock fuelled on a heady cocktail of Cremola foam and lsd. 

When the series was broadcast young teenagers in Scotland saw it as a portent to a bright new space age future. Iain Gray at this time was a spotty 18 year old wannabe Ned smoking behind the butlers quarters at the fee paying George Watson's College and dreaming of one day walking the killing fields of Cambodia before they happened. We'd already had some bloke from Langholm walking on the moon, Gerry Anderson had progressed from astronauts held up by string to dyed blonde Americans in UFO (ponounced you-foe) and Kubrick had made the seminal 2001, which the teen me fell asleep watching. So the reality of cars that could drive themselves, meals that went into a box in a sachet and came out a few seconds later as a turkey with trimmings and jetpacks to get us down to the shops for the messages could only be a few years away. Sure enough microwaves and GPS eventually popped into the mainstream. After the Los Angeles Olympic games in 1984 it became obvious that Jetpacks were to be the sole preserve of the lunatic fringe of the wealthy/suicidal/obese.

They were a glorious idea, which at this stage in our technological development remain just that. Their lack of appearance at the Haddington branch of Lidl doesn't mean they won't happen eventually. They were never promised. Gerry Anderson never stood up unassisted on Tomorrow's World and said, " One day I guarantee you, we'll all have the jetpacks that you see on Space 1999". Didn't happen. Besides when 1999 finally did come around Labour were still considering such hi-tech solutions to dealing with nuclear waste like dumping it in the Scottish hills.

 

Therefore, at a time when your party loses support on a weekly basis, now is not the time to base the relaunch of your faltering Holyrood campaign on the claim that Alex Salmond has verily failed to deliver jetpacks to each and every postcode in Scotland. Might I suggest a fresh new start, with ten days to go to polling day might include a pledge on minimum pricing, an Independence referendum, a wee bout of self flagellation and putting your colleagues, Baron Ffoulkes, Lamont, Kerr, Baillie, Mcneil and the boy Baker in the stocks?