Funniest first hand politics story I’ve heard yet - one of my best friend’s brothers is standing for Labour in the Scottish Council Elections. Yesterday he was out knocking doors and visiting people, as our politicians are supposed to do, when he happened upon the house of the local SNP nut. The resident proceeded to shout “NAW, YOOR ALL JUST ANTEH SCOOTUSH” in his face before throwing a small disinfectant wipe at him and telling him to leave.

Needless to say, whenever politics is now mentioned among our friends we take the Nat line and just scream “YOOR JUST ANTEH SCOOTUSH!” You couldn’t write it.

With the votes counted and the MSPs elected, the Scottish Parliament will now go through the rigours of its 500-year-old traditions.  The first of these is the “Kirking,” held on May 10th, whereby a Protestant church service is held in Saint Giles’ Cathedral, Edinburgh, reflecting on the important role that Parliament will play in the lives of Scots in the coming months and years. 

The second is the Oath of Alliegance, held on May 11th, whereby each MSP states that “I do swear that I will be faithful and bear true allegiance to Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth, her heirs and successors, according to law. So help me God.”  It is permissable for “So help me God” to be omitted by those not of a religious persuasion. The Oath can also be taken in Gaelic or Scots if the MSP so wishes. Any member refusing to take the Oath or affirm is banned from parliamentary proceedings and their pay withheld and, if not taken within two months, is thrown out as an MSP.

I have been awake for the past 24 hours watching the country I love slip into the clutches of a political ideology I despise.  The Scottish Nationalist Party’s victory could hardly be more complete –Labourites, Conservatives and the Lib Dems have all been soundly routed, and my Unionist leaders universally put to the sword.  The tiny rays of good news – a defeat for the Nationalists in Wales and a Tory party remaining unscathed in England, is nowhere near enough to mitigate the disaster.  My hopes for an end to Nationalist governance in my home are now dashed beneath the oppressive, looming bulk of another five years of SNP rule.

And, of course, the gravest dishonour of all was to see my home seat, where I was born, raised and have lived almost all my life, fall into the clutches of the Nationalists.  The Nationalists who think me less worthy because I’m ¼ English.  The Nationalists who believe Scotland is a better country than anywhere else just because it is.  Stranded away from home, I could do nothing but pace by room all night in a nigh-maniacal fury as my friends gleefully voted for the Nationalists they believe stand for Scotland more so than any other party.  For Scotland, yes, but at what price?  The television offers no respite, only a catalogue of one smug-faced SNP election winner after another, all of them ruled over by the President of Scotland himself, that pompous pontificator Alex Salmond.  Already there are shrieking calls from his rabid underlings for a referendum on Scotland’s place within Great Britain, and I am left wondering whether the ancient union which my forefathers fought and died for will be torn down before my very eyes.

That final, greatest indignity is one I cannot and will not suffer.  As Prince William once said, there is one certain way by which I can be sure never to see the ruin of my country - I will die in the last ditch. So be it.

Hmm, what is an ultra-Unionist to do in these times? With the elections looming, do I hold true to the hardcore ideals and vote for the MOST Unionist party in Scotland, knowing it won’t win, or do I vote for one of the slightly less hardline Unionist parties and abandon some of my principals for the ultimate victory. WWCD?