Johnny Hates Jazz

Waking Hereward: Lord Falconer and the West Lothian Question.... (Full article - extract below)

Lord Falconer and the West Lothian Question....
They came from far and wide to listen. Gathering Wednesday night, 6:30 sharp in Committee Room 10, at the House of Commons to listen to the debate sponsored by the Hansard Society - Is the West Lothian Question unanswerable?

We'd travelled down from the North West of England - 4 of us in the car, the furthest of our number coming from Carlisle, over 300 miles from London.

Gathering outside the best club in town and following an intrusive touchy-feely search of my man vegetables by a purple gloved prophylactic-clad police officer, we entered the holy of holies, largesse central - the Palace of Westminster. What a fantastic building! Awesome architecture and sheer presence of stoneware is a heady mixture.... I have to say, I was totally gobsmacked at the grandeur of it all. It couldn't last. I was soon brought down to earth and the grinding reality of why we were there in the first place as the plodding baggage of Charles Clarke frumped past our throng.

Clarke really does cut a rather pathetically podgy figure nowadays. Charlie-no mates and his big wobbly shiny-trousered backside disappeared from view, barely acknowledging our questions about the possibility of us ever having an English Parliament.

Bang on time we were invited into Committee Room 10. This was not the original venue - they had to rearrange to a much bigger room due to the huge amount of interest. The place was packed - notable audience attendees included Tory MP, Sir George Younger, Robin Tilbrook EDP chair, Mike Knowles from the CEP and UKIP man Mr Campbell Bannerman. There was also a creditable crew of EDP, CEP and patriotic foot soldiers present. All looked to the top table for the protagonists to appear.

First to show was former Gordon Brown girlfriend and debate anchor, Sheena MacDonald. Tory Grandee and Grand Committee obssessive, Sir Malcolm Rifkind soon followed. All eyes levelled towards the swing doors waiting for the supposed political heavyweight of the Falconer-man to show.

We waited. And waited....... And waited some more.

Sheena apologised for Falconer's disregard. The audience grew restless - afterall, some of us had travelled 300 miles to be there. We'd made it - but the fat control freak hadn't... True to form, Falconer was showing the utmost contempt to the people of England...... Suddenly, the swing doors burst open and the bloated, sweating, visceral Mr Blobbied form of the Lord Falconer lurched into the room. Grand entrance it wasn't. Shambolic, disorganised and loud, it most certainly was.

The heaving, gasping sweaty mess of fat, badly fitting clothing and delusions of adequecy collapsed onto the desk next to Sheena. Sir Malcolm grinned. His alter-ego was bursting to get out - tweed skirt, sensible cardy and arrogant sneer..... Yes, Miss Jean Brodie in her prime was a morphed reality. In his mind, Rifkind was the creme de la creme and Falconer was Billy Bunter, the duffer from the lower 4th remove....

As Falconer was a nanosecond away from a coronary, Sheena thought it best that Miss Jean Rifkind should start the proceedings. He started. He boomed his shrill Brodie brogue. "Grand Committee" was the answer according to Sir Malc. It was "sensible, elegant, and right for England and the Union"..... The heckling started. Sir Malc tried to big-up the amazing nobility of the Union, apparently, for the last 300 years we have been"punching above our weight", "we like each other", "we get on"........ "however, if something is not done, English members of Parliament will not put up with it much longer"........ Sir Malc' obviously knows a few English MPs with backbones then?.

It was predictable Tory unionist stuff. Completely unworkable, obviously - but hey what did we expect? And anyway, Rifkind was merely the sideshow, the main act, the Falconer was about to take the stage.

He got up. The wheels fell off - or rather, the tail flaps of his hand-made shirt and 3 stone of concentrated gut-lard flopped out. Freed from the constraints of his straining belt, he struggled like a fat man possessed to get everything tucked away again. Charlie Falconer, the man with the most ill-describing surname since 'Tiny Littletodge' the legendary and massively endowed porn star - looked awful. Sweating top lip, jowls to the power of ten and comedy hair - the trinity of dishevelment was there for all to see. He gave up trying to stuff his flabby bits away. They'd made their bolt for freedom and there was no way they were going to get up close and personal with Charlie's Y-Fronts ever again... The tail of his shirt hung like a white flag of surrender as he went into his trying to 'defend the indefensible' routine.

"England accounts for over 80% of the population of UK",...... "To give England a Parliament would be a disaster for the Union"....... The heckling went into frenzy mode. Falconer, flustering on regulo 12 by now, decided to play his ace..... and what an ace it was....

"Look, if England got its own Parliament, and the Union broke up.... what would happen to all the Scottish people living in England - and all the English people living in Scotland?"....

__________________
English Democrats SAY NO To European Union

English not British not European
- It's time to decide at the 2009 European Elections

cassie

Apparently some 500,000 Scots live in England (10% of Scotland's population), but considerably fewer English live in Scotland. Clearly England doesn't do its fair share!

Just imagine if some 5,000,000 English people (10% of England's population) went to live in Scotland! That might shut the b*ggers up!