Scottish Nationalists Monologue

NATIONALISTS MONOLOGUE


My daddy was a militant. He was a trade unionist. He was a shop steward. He was the sort of man you seen on the telly, all handle bar moustache and clipboard in hand talking about workers rights and not capitulating to the british government.
He knew alot about history, he used to tell me about history like it was a story from his life. He told me about the chartist movement, their six demands:

A vote for every man over twenty one of sound mind not undergoing criminal punishment.
The secret ballot.
No property qualification for members of parliament.
Payment for members of parliament, so as ordinary people could stand.
Equal constituencies.
And annual parliaments.

He told me about the highland clearances too, dark days in Scottish history. Soilders dragging people out of their homes and onto coffin ships. Burning their villiages. For what?
To make way for the great white sheep?
Bullshit!
Every previous rebellion had come out of the highlands. Thats why they did it. Move the problem across to America and Canada and leave the highlands broken.
My daddy was a Scottish nationalist too. He had a hundred cause up his sleave. He was a feminist. He was a communist. He hated all social injustices.
He used to say that in the war against the british government that the North of Ireland was the front line and Scotland was the eastern front. I never really understood what he meant by that but he sounded intelligent when he said it.
He died last year. From aspestos poisoning. What did he get for a lifetimes work? A state pension thats all. Bastards! The british government.
It would have been nice if he could have been here to see today. He would have been proud of this new republic.