You'll have had your wine and cake then?

Sooo, I'm back, a week without internet, well, apart from one small moment of wifi curiosity.


In catching up I notice some previously unknown, no-hoper Labour PPC came unstuck through his twittering tourette's. Some commentators suggest this is a small piece of Karma visiting Labour after the visceral way in which I was strung up like a stuck pig by our wonderful media and munificent politicians. I actually have some sympathy for the young feller. 


It's incredible to me that we are still stuck in this bizarre white bread existence that never was; a land where people aren't allowed to swear, make mistakes, be rude, or perish the thought, express painfully honest opinions. Where those who seek public office are expected to have sprung fresh from a virginal mother's womb, untainted, sporting action man genitals and lead wholesome lives never causing trouble and only visiting us as a precursor to sainthood. 


I prefer my politicians like the lying liars liar Bill Clinton, a man who can negotiate the labyrinthine intricacies of Middle East shenanigans with Yasser Arafat on the phone whilst Harmonica Lewinski (c) Big Rab, was whistling his weasel. Now that's multi-tasking.


Anyhoo, just back from the island of Madeira, a place I was told, "Ooh that's where the old people go." So after packing the sanatogen and incontinence pads off I headed. 

What I found was an incredibly hip island 1000 kms south of Europe, 35 miles long and slightly smaller than the Ise of Mull. 

Mull has a population of 2,600 folk, which increases slightly during the holiday season.


Madeira has a population of 260,000 folk, which triples during the holiday season.


'Ahh', I hear you say, 'Mull's a wet wee place full of hills and single track roads, it's not fit for tourism.' Given the Scottish weather you might be right.


Then again, it rains in Madeira. Witness the recent flooding that killed many, destroyed property and roads. The North around Porto Maniz is particularly wet, the first settlers built an amazing series of canals, 'Levadas' to carry water to the drier areas of the island. Today the Levadas are used for beautiful eco walks. Others are used as hydro power plants which keep the lights on.


Mull's transport problems pale by comparison with Madeira's. Mull is hilly. Madeira is one big fuck off mountain, that rises to 1800 metres above the sea a full 500 metres higher than the titchy Ben Nevis and plummets down scary ravines, the cliffs at Cabo Girao drop a mere 600 metres to the ocean below. Although the island is only 35 miles long, one of the roads running from Porto Maniz to Funchal, roughly 20 miles as the crow flies, is over such rough mountainous terrain that it equates to a sphincter clutching three hour long, 62 mile drive.


Yet, Madeira, a fully self governing, autonomous part of Portugal since the revolution in 1974 has just about completed a civil engineering programme that should cause chokes of embarrassment from our various governments down the ages. 


When the last stage is completed there will be a series of over 30 miles of tunnels on the Via Rapida linking the whole island. Affording communities separated by mountains, who have never met, the opportunity to whizz two or three miles under a mountain and meet new friends and more importantly welcome visitors.

The two and a half mile tunnel running from the Eira do Sorrado to the Valley of the Nuns, literally goes downhill through a rock solid mountain. It was completed two years ago at a cost of €10 million. The funding came from the European Union.


Madeira has a rural transport system that embarrasses the whole of Scotland. Apart from our potholed and permanently grid locked motorway in the central belt, where has the money gone on building roads, bridges and tunnels, that link our communities, our businesses and tourists? The South, North, East and West of our country has been left with an incoherent, shoddy infrastructure, that you would expect to find in some backwater island in the middle of nowhere... 


We have a glorified dual carriage that links us with the three lane M6 to the North of Carlisle, the A9 is a dual carriage death trap as is the A1. Our main arterial route to the north west goes past Loch Lomond and stops part of the way for a set of temporary traffic lights which have been there for THIRTY-FIVE FUCKING YEARS. 


Our national cringe comes into play with the size of our runways. Few transatlantic planes land here, are we incapable of extending our runways? Madiera, with possibly the scariest runway you'll ever experience, it drops off at the end into the sea, has daily flights from Europe and South America.


The port at Funchal is festooned with floating gin palaces and giant cruise ships who use it as their first and last port whilst traversing the Atlantic.Tobermory hosts the Oban and Ardnamurchan ferry.


Madiera gave the world, arguably one of the most talented footballers ever in the shape of Ronaldo.

Mull was the home to Balamory....

As to all the old folk shuffling around on their Barrs Irn-Bru Bingo Buggies, aye there were a few of them about, I saw them at the airport but not in my hotel pool... 

Cheese sur vacances

Frozen weather - knackered knees- tired of gakgate - cheap flights - wrestling pensioners for cheese - back in a week.

In the meantime two, yes TWO excellent videos. Enjoy.

Brown twats Cameron.

Loving Labours new strategy, when all else fails resort to type. Pity they had to launch it on April the 1st, people might think it's a joke.

News from the dodgy whiteboard...part one.

Having a recently turned 14 year old sitting his Standards and Intermediate 2's in the next few weeks, a whole two years earlier than I did in the late 1970's, I've been a bit perplexed about the ups and downs Scottish education has taken over the last few years. The reason given for my son taking his standards in third year is as follows: "second year is a waste of time and this way he gets two years to study for his Highers." ...so far, so more educational philosophy by the committee of jolly japes and wheezes.

Those of you of a similar age to me will remember our primary education being blighted in the late 1960's - early seventies with the introduction of the phonics system, whose acronym, memory has thankfully scrubbed from my mind. I do remember one day learning structures, verb endings, what nouns and plurals all meant, all delivered in scratchy black and white, only to find the next day a garish colourful card system with words delivered by manic, alliterative, animal cartoon characters. My delectable teacher, poor Miss McDonald, with her flowery neck high smock and bouffant hair do, never looked more perplexed... 

Brave new schemes and super whizzy ideas from think-tanks and forums come and go every blinking generation and it is those poor sods who want to help, teachers, who are handed the responsibility of preparing our little darlings for their academic and societal future. Woe betide them if they ever get it wrong!

With this in mind and the Scottish government, as noted by Ms Go Lassie Go still twisting and turning in trying to be all things to all people by finally introducing the well trumpeted Curriculum for Excellence amidst wholesale discord, confusion and empty promises. I decided to ask a  friend who is a musician, an artist, a photographer, a traveller, a bon-vivant and a teacher of great repute for his views on CfE. 

Naturally, he writes anonymously, we wouldn't want anyone in education to oppress an actual educator for expressing a viewpoint different from their overlords...

It might surprise some people that I, an English Teacher of some years, agree for the most part with the idea of Curriculum for Excellence, (CfE). However teachers are stubborn and wary refusniks. They avoid prescribing of teaching methods like a vampire swerves garlic and loathe being told how and what to teach. This is as it should be. 

In my experience classroom teachers encourage and challenge young people in thankless circumstances with limited resources. They play the fool. They mother their babes. They act as psychiatrists, nurses, surrogate parents, good cop and bad cop. 

Every cycle a new initiative comes along telling them how mediocre they are and how they need to raise their game. Here lies the central issue as some see it; why must we be beholding to our betters who, without the training or experience, have pointed out to us -in expensive glossy green folders- how we may approach Excellence? 

Learning and Teaching Scotland (LTS) and a coterie of chalk-face draft dodgers have a bare-faced cheek assuming that they can set their colleagues on a track that they, the work-shy and the inept, couldn't see with a compass, map and GPS guide. I have seen teachers wrestle with steam powered PCs. I have seen teachers still using overhead projectors (buying their own bulbs). I have seen Literacy and Numeracy incorporated into PE lessons and HE lessons. I have seen prison classrooms for Young Offenders. I have seen S6 pupils who do not care a jot being paid to come to school, money which could be directed elsewhere with more efficacy. I have seen all manner of dedicated and unique teaching styles but none of these people who actually 'can' teach are ever chosen for secondment to prepare and inform these cyclical PR scam/schemes. 

The CfE, like the LTS, is an overpriced and glossy fast-track for those teachers with a nose for promotion, the poachers turned gamekeepers, the gutless wonders who couldn't maintain order or teach anything other than hypothetical classrooms with idealised behaviour. Let's face it, we already have CfE, or we did, and we could augment the quality teaching that we have if we directed funding from these glossy folders towards ICT that works, towards classroom assistants and towards those skilled wonders who provide Additional Support Needs to kids who want to learn but do not fit into the standard classroom square peg. We all want excellence; I'm just not convinced that CfE is anything more than an overpriced glossy statement of wishful thinking.

David Dinsmore did a doo doo.

myspace layouts

Not so long ago on this here blawg, I posed the following question, 
"How soon before Mr Purcell's £5,000 a day crisis management team manage to sell his exclusive, 'How the Evil Cyber Nats turned me into a Cokehead.' story to one of the Scottish tabloids?  

It seems that the answer was exactly 21 days, a mere three weeks, during which time the Scottish bloggeratti and our meeja have hummed, hawed, empathised, condemned, cajoled, conjectured, postulated, fumed and become increasingly exasperated at the drip, drip, drip of real news and the veil that the Labour party and their establishment and media friends have attempted to draw over the whole sorry mess.

In a spectacularly badly timed reappearance for the Labour parties re-election chances, Mr Purcell has popped up in Ireland en route back from Australia, to set the world to rights, fess up to coke use, boozing, blethers with senior plod and err falling through the ice. So much for the supposed munificence of his big business Caymen based backers...

Anyhoo, this past weekend saw the Labour Party spring conference lose money by hiring a decent sized hall at the SECC and throw a hugely expensive cordon of security around it to protect the Prime Minister. In reality there were more security people there than delegates, the applause during Brown's leaders rallying call was simply embarrassing and probably attracted less people than a kiddies birthday party for young Peter File.

The weekends sound-bites for Labour politicians Brown and Murphy, when grilled by the oleaginous GlenCampbelly and Paxman on buns, Brian Taylor, about Purcell, was that this was, " a personal tragedy" - the absurd anti-SNP "don't knock Glasgow" - "no evidence of wrongdoing, move along please."

David Dinsmore, 63, the editor of the Scottish Sun appeared on BBC Radio Scotland's Good Morning Scotland this morning and threw out the remaining vestiges of what journalistic integrity he might ever have possessed (stop snorting at the back) with the early morning bathwater.

In an interview lasting a mere three minutes, Dinsmore 72, appeared like a toddler looking for approval when handing its mother a fresh pooh, he trumpets that his paper triumphed in getting the story that every other journalist wanted. His 'confession' that Purcell was both a contact and a personal friend (note past tense) was no barrier to Disnmore, 87, crushing Purcell with hard hitting questions normally reserved for celebrity rapists and footballers burdz. Listening to the interview was like reading a Labour party press release, rather than that of a man who is supposed to show loyalty to his readers and employers. The lines between hack and Labour acolyte have been seriously blurred here, how can Dinsmore, 59, seriously not see that Purcell and his ilk don't choose to be friends with tabloid editors, they schmooze them and abuse them whenever possible. Naturally it's a relationship that works both ways. What was reprehensible was for Dinsmore, 68, to ignore the web of deceit, lies, patronage, bungs and favouritism that his colleagues across the 4th estate have exposed, which he in turn dismisses and undermines. 


The one piece of PR fluff that sticks out, (I have a talent for these things) was his contention when asked about an inquiry into the wrongdoing, that just about every thinking person in Scotland has demanded, that there was "lots of smoke but no fire." Naturally he parroted out the Labour lines as if somebody had a hand up his back. It was a "personal tragedy", his readers can't fail to have "sympathy for Purcell" and so on. It's really vomit inducing stuff.

Of course, there'll be questions as to how much Steven Purcell was paid for his 'exclusive' interview? Our BBC man funnily enough didn't ask this question. Loyal Labour supporters have also got to question Steven Purcell's tactical nous and loyalty to the people's party. By selling his story to the Sun has he just had his Graeme Souness Hillsborough moment? The Sun down south have come out for the Tories. How can they support British Labour here but not British Labour down south?

So in tribute to the sad end to a beautiful friendship that saw Steven and David smile coyly across the table at James Mortimer's Rogano, shared smiles and laughs no more, a fleeting brushing of hands as they reached for their respective coats in the cloakroom. I give you the saddest music in the world, ever. 

Gak-gate continued. The story that won't go away.

The Economist 

Sunday Herald 

Sunday Labour 

News of the Screws


Tommy McAvoy's Mandelson moment


Jimmy Hood's payoff

Anne Moffat continued need for greed.

What a surprise...

Has there been a period of 24 hours passed in the last 13 years of the Labour government where there's not been some suggestion of Labour sleaze or corruption?


The Sunday Times and Channel 4 have yet again discovered former Labour cabinet ministers willing to be hired out like discounted hookers in a going out of business poundland brothel sale.

Naturally there's a Scottish connection, naturally it's the MP for East Kilbride, yes, come on down Adam Ingram and claim your seat at the table marked 'fill your boots'. 

If you remember it was Gorgeous George who first riled Mr Adams when he announced that Mr Adams was a former apprentice bigot in an ethnic flute band. Adams lost a suit for defamation and had to pay Galloway's costs.

Having spent my formative years in EK OK amongst the exiled Glasgow orange overspill, this news never impinged on my pre-adolescent consciousness. Every July we'd see a long trail of drunken knobs whistle, march and yahoo from the town centre through the Murray before trailing off into the plethora of pubs before the Queensway. At the time, Mr Adam was chairman of East Kilbride Labour Party and a councillor on East Kilbride District Council.


He entered Parliament as a fresh faced forty year old in 1987 and soon set aside those vile ambitions of social justice and fairness he preached from the pulpit as a NALGO trade union official. 

Something more alluring was in the offing. 

By 2008 he had collected enough directorships to shame your average Top Trump player, here's a few of his well remunerated directorships.

Non-executive Chairman of SignPoint Secure Ltd.; emergency communications. (£45,001-£50,000)

Non-executive Chairman of Argus Scotland Ltd; design and construction services in the urban environment. (£20,001-£25,000)
 
Director, International School for Security and Explosives Education (ISSEE) (non-executive). (£10,001-£15,000)
 
Consultant to Argus Libya UK LLP; design and construction services in the urban environment. (£20,001-£25,000)
 
Consultant to Electronic Data Systems Ltd (EDS); provision of IT services to public and private sector clients in the UK. (£50,001-£55,000)

All neatly bundled up for payment under the auspices of
Adam Ingram Advisory Limited, set up in May 2008 for invoicing purposes.

This is just priceless and will no doubt help pay the fuel bills for his apparently massive Perthshire mansion.


"Ingram who is standing down as MP for East Kilbride at the election, offered to develop a network of former ministers who could be useful for their contacts in different departments.


“There’s going to be a lot of ex-ministers ... and they then become a point of contact in the political network. ‘Who do you know in that department? Who can you suggest to talk to?’ And that becomes a point of contact. So all of that can be established,” he said. 

He was happy to help the reporter meet serving ministers after the election, saying there were strict rules preventing him lobbying while in parliament but he could do so as a “non-MP”. 

However, he suggested that the fictional company might wish to target civil servants as “they draw up invitations to tender, they then make all the recommendations, which may not cross the minister’s desk”. 

When asked if he still had good contacts with civil servants from his time as a minister, he responded “oh yeah”. The reporter asked: “So you would be able to help us develop our relationship with the ministers and civil servants?” and Ingram replied: “I’d do that, I could work at that, yeah.” 

Ingram said he was paid £1,500 a day or £1,000 a meeting by companies. He could already make up to £173,000 a year from outside earnings on top of his £65,000 salary as an MP. 

The former defence minister revealed he was employed by two British businesses which are helping to establish a new defence academy in Tripoli for Colonel Gadaffi, the Libyan leader. “Gadaffi wanted a defence academy built, and people I’m with have got very good points of contact with the Libyan regime,” he said. 

Adam Ingram MP retire in shame, you flute tootling, money grasping, class traitor.

Where's Stevo?

Now that Audit Scotland and Strathclyde Polis have decided that there is absolutely 'nothing to see here, move along please', with regards to any investigation into the assorted ne'er do wells that were spotted hanging around the wraith that was Steven Purcell. Establishment Scotland can now go back to sleep delighted that a line has been drawn in the sand and they don't have to answer any tricky questions from competent and probacious men.


The assorted coke fiends, nightclub owners, football shareholders, wealthy local businessmen, hangers on and Labour party placemen suited and booted in arms length quangos can continue as before, safe in the knowledge that they can continue to hump the public purse with gay abandon, much as they have done since their forefaither's persuaded the electorate that they were ra people's party.


The one question that those who are unsatisfied with being force fed bullshit by our media want answered, is where is Steven Purcell? As the prodigiously prescient Ms Go Lassie Go stated in her Sunday Times (Scotland) column last weekend, "if the Mayor of London, Boris Johnson, had vanished in similar circumstances, we would hear of little else." Yet, Mr Purcell has indeed vanished, our medi placated by the mystic runes strewn by Media House inferring that he will be Homo Sacer for at least a year. By which time he will be a mere curious but sad footnote in the history of civic Scotland. So where is he? We're told Australia, Spain, the States (no doubt in anticipation of another five star Lady Ga Ga performance), is he sitting in a semi-detached in Bothwell twitching at net curtains...or is he in the sunny Cayman Islands? 

Obviously the Cayman Islands came into the equation after Messrs Irvine and Watson flew out first class for a consultation with the Cayman Islands government, who are trying to persuade Gordon Brown that threatening offshore tax-free enclaves around the world is not a good idea. Especially if a lot of your donors have homes and companies registered there. 

So do any wealthy Scottish individuals have homes or businesses registered in the Cayman Islands? Is there a Scottish community there? Are there any Scottish place names or house names, that might suggest some kind soul who might have a spare room where Mr Purcell can rest his weary head in?

You would be amazed what a dedicated half hour of google trawling can bring up when you cross reference search Scotland and the Caymans. Apparently the local accent has both a Scottish lilt and  a brogue. Scottish missionaries arrived in the 1840's setting up Presbyterian kirks there and in neighbouring Jamaica, naturally there's also a Grand Masonic lodge. The island is peppered with Scottish street names and houses, Kintyre, Turnberry, Walker, Strathvale, the Kirk supermarket, Glenwood, Dunedin, Bonnie View estates, jings there's even a place called Hell Road and Purcell Port!

It's really quite a remarkable place, somewhere that has been chosen as the seventh best place in the world for the wealthy to reside.

Now if any news hound were curious to start looking through the Cayman Governments website with particular regard to the gazettes section wherein various companies and holdings are registered, they might find some seriously interesting names, some of which have been noted in the past for their largesse towards ra people's party.

If the above doesn't contain enough clues for our 'Where's Stevo?' competition, this might help: 

Coordinates: 19°17'57"N   81°22'54"W 

Gentlemen actuaries prefer blondes.

With nary a cynical thought in my finely sculpted head, I wish to take this opportunity to praise the erstwhile East Lothian MP Anne Moffat as the most impressive trough swilling Labour MP of her generation. At the delicate age of 51 Ms Moffat has secured a peach of a retirement package that amounts to an approximate £32,000 upfront followed by £30,000 per annum or six Byers as I like to think of it, until her retirement age of 65. 

Her esprit de corps and boot filling capabilities has put legends Baron Michael Martin, Baron Foulkes von Cumnock and former MP David Marshall well and truly in the shade. A follower of this blog, the not so diminutive Eric Joyce, must be gaping in awe at the master stroke that Ms Moffat has pulled off this week. Eric, you're an amateur compared to this dame.

Ideally someone who cares more than me, should sit down and calculate just exactly how much of your money Ms Moffat has extracted from the the public purse since first becoming an MP in 2001. That should include her by now quite legendary expenses claims, her foreign junkets, any questions paid for by outside lobbyists (she does seem very keen on asking questions relating to  the Colombian army) that wasn't a euphemism for any Purcell like behaviour, check out her They Work for You page.

Not only has she managed to secure this wonderful package on ill health grounds, she's managed to kick the Labour Party fair and square in their little balls. The hapless Iain Gray get it full blast, as does fellow Labour MP Frank Roy and Mr Harriet Harman aka Jack Dromey of UNITE who both take an absolute belter with allegations of bullying and intimidation.

I don't know Andrew Sharp, the SNP Westminster candidate for this seat, but after the open goal he's been presented with in the upcoming general election, I suggest he starts picking out curtains for his London office at the earliest opportunity.


Anne Moffat MP, myself and the people of Scotland salute you. 

Somebody's got to pay.

Recognise this happy chap above? No, well like the Lee Marvin character, Walker, in the iconic John Boorman daylight noir film, 'Point Blank', I'm a great believer in the theory that if you go far enough up the chain in an organisation, you always find the one man who makes all the decisions. 

The man in the photograph is Craig A. Dubow, no not the one with the gun, that's Lee Marvin. Craigie boy sits at the top of the corporate chain and is the Chairman and Chief Executive Officer of Gannett Company Incorporated of America. He makes all the decisions. 

Gannett is the largest newspaper publisher in the USA, operating some 90 daily newspapers and 23 television channels, including the tabloid 'USA Today'. The company was founded by former Republican presidential candidate Frank Gannett, whose family arrived in the USA via Dorset, the Netherlands and Scotland.  

In the UK they operate under a subsidiary called Newsquest, owning and running 17 daily and 300 weekly newspapers, including the Herald, Sunday Herald and Evening Times. It could be said that as the man at the top of the chain, Mr Dubow's decisions and deliberations directly impact on the news that these 'Scottish' papers deliver.

It is claimed that Newsquest executives are so cowed by Gannett, that not only do they have to raise their hands when nature calls, but they also have to submit a lengthy cost benefit analysis, breaking down the gross cost of their ablutions and what impact such bowel evacuations might have on the Gannett share price...

Some of you may remember Pete Wishart of the SNP in 2007 alleged that Newsquest had mislead the Competitions Commission as to their intent regarding jobs and err standards, when they paid SMG £216 million for the three titles in 2003. Subsequent strikes, redundancies and dramatic collapse in the quality of reporting may have proved Mr Wishart as being not too far off the mark in his assumptions.


After the Sunday Herald's excruciating mea maxima culpa regarding inferences by Ms Go Lassie Go , Mandy Rhodes at Holyrood magazine and The Drum magazine that their relationship with lawyers Levy and MacRae was a conflict of interest in the reporting of the Steven Purcell cocaine story, one can't help wondering if the Newsquest executives are starting to check the exit strategies. Herald editor Donald Martin's decision to leave Glasgow for the bright lights of Dundee and the cosmopolitan atmosphere of the Sunday Post, this was a career move that allegedly caused spontaneous outbursts of joyful applause and whoops in the Herald building.


The news today that Newsquest chief executive Paul Davidson dumped 16,250 of his Gannett shares on the market, netting a tidy $200,000 profit may be causing further ruffles, particularly as 16,250 is the maximum he's allowed to sell under US Security and Exchange commission rules.  These shares are his reward for seeing the Newsquest group shed 23% of their workforce to a mere 5,100. Has he seen the writing on the wall? 

Mr Dubow, the man at the top of the chain has been rewarded nicely too, bringing home an estimated $8 million last year after seeing sales decline by 22% and the workforce decimated by some 6,000. He garnered snorts of derision when he announced in 2008 he was taking a cut in salary from  $7.5 million to $7.3 million. The poor man.

A dedicated blog which chronicles every twist and duplicitous turn by Gannett and Newsquest executives makes for excellent reading and is a great foreshadow of what probably awaits journalists at the group. It shines a bright light into the murkiest corners of the old Herald group who have managed to drag the good name of good old fashioned Scottish journalism through the mud. 


Mr Dubow can thank his lucky stars that he doesn't owe Lee Marvin's 'Walker' any money.

The orriflame of a crusade.

Your chance to ask the elusive Mr Murphy any question under the steely glint of the Piewatcher General, Brian Taylor, watch out...he bites. Secretary for the State of Scotland

Who cares?

24 seconds of Westminster democracy in action.

Labour in a river in Egypt.

The above image seems to best illustrate the attitude of the Labour Party and their current denials of any wrongdoing in the Steven Purcell affair. Head in the sand and arse aloft, awaiting the latest engorged brown envelope missive from their wealthy backers.

Naturally after some fairly detailed work by reporters from both the Sunday Times (Scotland) and (surprise surprise) Scotland on Sunday, which highlighted the connections and influences on Purcell by Willie Haughey, the err Glasgow fridge magnate, emphatic denials of any wrongdoing by Steven Purcell or Glasgow City Council are spread around the media like soggy confetti. 

As well as this ineffective denial strategy, Labour and their friends in the gutter press have devised another opportunity to kick the SNP in the balls, through the comments of a somewhat hat stand old age pensioner who suffers from views on sexuality last seen in public back in the 1970's.
 
The Daily Record can't seem to make up their mind, last week they informed the world that a drugs gangster had footage of Mr Purcell snorting coke, this week in an article that would bring a tear to Gordon Brown's glass eye, they inform their readers that 'Steven is on the road to recovery'. All that's missing is a floral tribute and a card for everyone to sign

This defence is doomed to fail, much like former councillor Purcell's 'stress' strategy went down like a BNP float at Notting Hill carnival, it scored a resounding big fat zero in the honesty and credibility stakes. Honest journalists (yes, there are some!) and political observers are informed by the salacious tittle tattle of politicians of all stripes. Within moments of Purcell's decisions to quit as leader being released to the media, the tittle tattle started. Some of our straight backed, give-the-fellow-a-chance type blogger's, admirably if not a tad naively, swallowed the whole 'stress' line, hook and sinker. Unfortunately for them and Mr Purcell, enemies old and new were soon out of the woodwork trumpeting alternatives to stress, none more volubly than former mentors and those recently retired through ill health quangocrats.

Attacking your political opponents over perceived slurs or repeating the mantra, "nothing to see here move along please," does not make the story go away, nor does it convince the public that everything Labour in Glasgow is kosher. Serious questions have to be answered. In all sincerity, this is not, in my opinion, a party political issue. If an SNP, Tory, Lib Dem or Green Council Leader was snorting coke with gangsters and was deemed to be far too close to multi-millionaire businessmen and nightclub owners with huge financial interests in the decisions of Glasgow City Council. I'd be saying the exact same thing


Sticking your head in the sand is the fast track way of letting your political opponents kick sand in your face. It's time...to open up. Do yourselves and Scotland a favour, root out this culture of patronage and cronyism that has held Scotland back for so long


The only empathy I share with Mr Purcell is his hulk like rage aimed at the Vodafone helpline staff, they seem to have spectacularly failed to Bring His World Together...

 The Sunday Times (Scotland) double spread by Mark MacAskill and Jon Ungoed-Thomas.

Is there something rotten in the state of West Dunbartonshire Council?

T

There's something just a tad whiffy coming out of West Dunbartonshire Council. On Thursday 11th of March the details of the recent best value report were put into the public domain. The Accounts Commission, more or less branded the council, the most inept in Scotland.

Last month, the council asked the Scottish Government for permission to borrow £9.8 million pounds to help balance their books. Citing the expenses accrued during the Single Status Process as the main reason for their debt, despite originally having a pot of £21 million from which to fund the scheme. 

All of this would be fine, as most councils have contingency funds to which they can dip into on occasion to help pay interest rates etcetera, whilst still maintaining the good governance of the local authority....However, West Dunbartonshire Council's contingency fund is in a seriously bad way. Ordinarily it would hold funds in the region of £5 million. The contingency fund is currently sitting at a barrel scraping, £250,000 - the price of a nice wee hoose in Balloch.

Since 2007 the council has been run by an SNP/Independent coalition. This has not gone down well with the Labour party, long used to having control of the Council, the MSP and the MP. The chinks in their armour began to appear when traditional Labour corruption raised its ugly head, just before the 2007 election, when problems of internecine warfare broke out amongst labour councillors, with scandals in tabloids and accusations of council contracts surreptitiously awarded to businesses owned by Labour councillors, etcetera. So far  - so Labour corruption. Fast forward to last year and we discover the chief executive of the council is doing the Hokey Cokey (no Purcell reference intended) with his job, he's quitting, he's sacked, he's retired, he's no, he's shaking it all about...and so on. Not it would seem a happy bunny.

Naturally, the upper management, the majority who were placed in the Council during the heady Labour years, simply get on with running their council. The council is operated by council officers with no time or inclination to listen to their political masters, just like every other council in the country. Honest hard working men and women to the core...or are they? Accusations of cronyism, waste, patronage, nepotism, deception etcetera swirl around the councils ankles, again, just like every other council in the country. 

However, what adds grist to the mill in this case is the very odd action of the council sending out this rather strange correspondence to businesses whom they have worked with in the past.

A brief perusal shows you the letter suggests that WDC's books are well and truly kippered, that they don't know who they owe money to and vice versa don't know who owes them money. Are they simply asking businesses, in a recession,  "Do we owe you any money? If so please let us know asap, and we'll square you up in a trice." or words to that effect. So far, so generous. It's always nice to know that councils care so much about their contractors and suppliers that they'll chase them up in times of financial strife. Ok, I've laboured that particular point long enough. 

What's really interesting is that the council contact has an email address at the council, but uses his mobile phone number (what WDC employees don't have landlines?) and 'if we do owe you any money please fax details to this Edinburgh number'...Edinburgh! Has there been a seismic shift and Dumbarton Rock is now encroaching on the Bass Rock's territory? Further investigation of the fax number leads to an IT company, a cross google on their fax number and address lead to this document which in turn leads to this fraud detection company. Investigative Data Mining Ltd is the UK's leading consultancy specialising in the use of advanced data mining techniques to detect, prevent and investigate fraud.

Are we to presume that West Dunbartonshire Council having been on the shard end of one of the worst 'Best Value' audits in living memory have opted to seek external help in preventing fraud or is it more likely that they are attempting to clear out the stench of alleged fraud within their own coffers? 

Much like there is a case for the Scottish Government assuming control of Glasgow City Council, the same should be said of West Dunbartonshire Council.

Little Ms Moffat, a tuffet too far.

Ms Anne Moffat MP, the delightful lady who compared the First Minister to the little moustached German chap who started some unpleasantness in the 1930's, is facing a long drawn out firing squad by her own side.

The poor lady who was attacked by unknown assailants who purloined her jogging jewellery, but not her Blackberry, has had a fraught relationship with the local East Lothian Labour Constituency Party. 

Seen as a 'flown-in' high profile Union member from down south, with links in 'nearby' Fife. An earlier attempt to de-select her after concerns over her eye watering expenses, lack of evidence of any local work, rude and unruly behaviour towards party employees and branch volunteers and allegations of a fondness for the liquid side of life, the local constituency were thwarted by Labour's National Executive Committee who allowed the block vote of the Union to ignore local concerns.
 
Last night she was convincingly rejected by the local branch of her East Lothian constituency 25 - 5. It's rather damning that only five loyal acolytes could be found to support Ms Moffat. It's even more of a poor show, that the largest constituency Labour branch in Scotland could only muster 30 souls to participate in the de-selection of their sitting Member of Parliament. Naturally, rather than abide by local democracy, the dithering, clunking fist of the Labour Party NEC have decided that all 500 constituency members should be consulted.

One would naturally presume that Mr Iain Gray MSP, as a dedicated and high profile constituency member, and a man who knows his way around assembling a Marquee, was in attendance at last nights vote. I find myself pondering as to which way Mr Gray voted in such a terribly important ballot. Will questions be asked by our ever so independent press?

Propaganda legitimised...

I see the Herald & Times Group - Evening Labour 'Ripped Off Glasgow' campaign has been nominated in the Campaign of the Year section of the Scottish Press Awards. I had no idea that this illustrious body had a fantasy/propaganda section...

Proof At Last. Hugh McMillan

It's in the rock record.
but we could have guessed.
Years ago, balmy Scotland
hugged the equator,
golden beaches, lush forests,
coconuts, bars on stilts,
beach volleyball, then one day
earth's orbit tipped to an ellipse,
plates shifted, the oceans shut,
and on that flimsy pretext
England came hurtling up
from its place in the Antarctic
and slammed us with its icy spine
into the North Atlantic,
shunted up the sheuch
of Iceland with all the ensuing
mountains, herring, sleet,
Sundays, words like sheuch...
That's it. No need for further talk.
At last, at last, it's proved, it's all their fault.

Roncadora Press 

Hugh McMillan 

Steven Purcell: 'My Cocaine Hell'. Exclusive

How soon before Mr Purcell's £5000-a-day crisis management team manage to sell his 'exclusive', 'How the Evil CyberNats Turned Me Into A Cokehead.' story to one of the Scottish tabloids? 

The same tabloids that have been ever so reluctant to dump all over Mr Purcell and the Labour Party this past week. An 'Exclusive' wherein, we will no doubt encounter a chastened, refreshed and tearful Mr Purcell pouring his heart out over his anguished torment, his loss of power, his fair weather friends, his search for love, his take on the many personalities, politicians and criminals he's encountered and his view of the modernised Scotland he was destined to lead away from the vile yoke of separatism.

Naturally should such an event occur, then those same tabloids who dithered, obfuscated and minimised the story, when Mr Purcell's resignation as Glasgow City Council leader first broke, will be first up to splash the wonga in Mr Purcell's direction, through his PR team, naturally. That would be the same PR team that has a huge influence on the stories the tabloids love to brand as 'Exclusive'. There's nary an 'Auld Firm' story that doesn't have their size 11 predator boots stamped all over it. The access and influence such people have over the 'power of the press' is quite simply wrong.  A newspaper industry dependent on parasites, who control their stories and screw them out of substantial sums has lost direction.

 As to Mr Purcell's fondness for the Bolivian marching powder, well, as Glasgow, indeed Scotland is blighted by a drugs epidemic, where an unimaginable amount of money is spent educating our youngsters on the dangers of drugs, where our police spend the majority of their time fighting the criminal effects of drug dealing, the NHS mop up the mess left by drug consumption, (how much out of their £11 billion budget goes on coping with the aftermath of drug abuse?) all I can say is congratulations Labour and their drinking and dining buddies in the Scottish press for keeping this story out of the public domain. Your silence has allowed the man who would be King to run a £2.4 billion budget, four-days-a-week, to the best of his ability as a functioning addict.. 

Remember behind every gram of coke lies a trail of misery, controlled every step of the way by criminals. Mr Purcell, snorting a couple of lines at the opening of some new fancy hairdressers salon in Drumchuckie, leads all the way back through the hard men gangsters in Glasgow's East End, via corrupt cops, customs officials, venal financiers, drug barons, to dirt poor bastards in hot climates scraping a living at the business end of a gun. Where do the profits end up? Well let's look at security companies, taxi companies, tanning salons, nightclubs and bars. Where 'special' clientèle can snort to their hearts content, safe in the knowledge, that if anyone kicks up a fuss, somewhere along the line, a cop, solicitor or politician has their back. 

This story has set back all the good work previous Labour politicians and policies have done in fighting drugs. How can Labour councillors, MSP's and MP's stand up now and pontificate on the dangers of drugs, knowing that they have protected and promoted one of their own, who was at the very centre of Scotland's drugs problem? This is a problem that will be with us for years to come.

  

Steven Purcell resigns as a Councillor

 

News just in that Steven Purcell has resigned as a Councillor. STV have broken the story after a fraught week for Mr Purcell and the Labour Party.

Naturally there are now lots of questions to be asked, about his alleged use of cocaine and just who else was aware of his supposed use of the Class A drug in the City Council.

Steven Purcell and our national gift of meiosis.

It appears that the Media House attempts to control the Steven Purcell story is in danger of blowing a tyre and plummeting down the ravine labelled 'No Chuffing Chance'. 

For the first time in living memory the Hootsman actually defied convention, alleged threats of legal nastiness and reported yer actual bona fide-oops-Labour-in-the-shitter-news. News, which I hasten to add that the blogosphere has been voraciously whispering les gros mots about, behind cupped palms, since Monday evening, that Mr Purcell's stress, has been attributable to an alleged pharmaceutical dependency. 

Jack Irvine's task was made even more Herculean when STV reported today that Mr Purcell went AWOL from Castle Craig Rehab centre on Sunday afternoon and told their gobsmacked audience that our dear chums at Lothian and Border were called in to poke about the bushes looking for a rather lost, bewildered and somewhat dis-inhibited Mr Purcell. If Castle Craig were a psychiatric institution, rather than a 12 step addiction centre, most patients would have been sectioned under the mental health act, and there would be no need to call police for a patient, unless of course when there is a significant danger of self harm.

As much sympathy as I have for any poor soul dependent on medication, legal or otherwise, to get through the day, I honestly feel, the time-line to Mr Purcell's implosion needs further investigation from our doughty press pack. 

Just exactly was said at Gordon Brown's table to Mr Purcell at last Thursday's Labour fund-raising dinner at the Glasgow Hilton, when according to all the impartial Labour supporters and Rangers manager Walter Smith, who were in attendance, that Mr Purcell was 'at the top of his game'? What was it that made him, a few short hours later, express a desire to get the flip out of Dodge? Were the raffle tickets so eye blisteringly expensive that Mr Purcell, according to Paul Hutcheon, had to be 'escorted' home? Who were the MSP's with whom he had 'convivial' talks on the Friday morning? Did they not notice anything untoward in his presumably agitated state? Is Mr Purcell paying for Media House representation, and Levy &McRae defamation specialists from his own pocket or could it be that the Labour Party or friends of the Labour Party are dipping into their own deep pockets? Who overruled the rather expensively assembled 'Team Glasgow' who wanted to come clean and fess all?  How long has Mr Purcell, suffered from this alleged dependency, did he ever self medicate in the Council Chambers or whilst on Council business? Does Glasgow City Council have a mandatory drug testing system for its employees, does this apply to elected members or merely officers and other lower paid employees? Where exactly did Mr Purcell procure the pharmaceutical in question?  

One presumes, with a desperate desire to be truthful and transparent, that the new leader of Glasgow City Council will immediately instigate an investigation into these and sundry other questions of nefarious goings on at the City Chambers.

Naturally, in a normal independent country, a free press would be asking these questions rather than swallowing the cheap party line of praising some chap down on his hunkers and predicting his meteoric return a few weeks after defeating his inner demons.


Come on the press pack, you can pursue other people with great vim, gusto and template cut and paste reporting, how about doing some actual digging and living up to the once exalted title of 'journalist'?