THE REEK OF DESPERATION

McMurdo and his merry band of followers were all slapping each other's backs yesterday because, finally, a story about Celtic's alleged financial chicanery has appeared in printed form. They've been desperate for this to happen for ages so it's like all their birthdays have come at once. Unfortunately, said article does not appear in any newspaper but in Private Eye, the rather snooty satirical magazine, edited by the bald, unfunny one on Have I Got News For You. Is that the best they can do? Still, I suppose they need their petty triumphs the way things are at the moment.

More than a few of them ask the question as to why nobody in the Scottish media is picking up on this story. I would ask more than that; why is none of the right-wing press in England running it? I'm sure the Daily Mail would be more than willing to take a break from blaming immigrants for everything from global warming to the common cold to run a story that paints Labour and the Co-Op bank in a bad light. The fact that they are not even mentioning it speaks volumes. All these papers have teams of lawyers advising them on the truth, or otherwise, of every story. I would imagine that's what's happened in this case. What other explanation can there possibly be? The idea that the Bisto Kids have of Peter Lawwell having all the media in his pocket is risible at best. Do they honestly think all the media in Britain are running scared of Celtic?

Meanwhile, back at Bisto FC, The South African crook has shoved his nose in, saying that they need to spend more on the team to challenge Celtic. Even Sooperally has come out with this one. They are absolutely obsessed with Celtic. None of them seem able to sleep at night with the knowledge that Celtic are going to be champions for the foreseeable future. They don't care if their club is run into the ground again, as long as they stop Celtic getting ten in a row. Just wait until you see how all the Bisto Kids turn on the chairman, Mr Blobby, when he's not throwing money at the team. They can't seem to accept what's happened and think they have a divine right to be on top, no matter what.

And now comes news of Sooperally's attempts to hide the extent of his salary, because it wouldn't look good. Apparently he refused point-blank to take a pay cut but wanted his salary kept out of the IPO documents. At one point he wanted his salary stated as £200k, with the rest made up in bonuses. He did take a slight reduction, for a few months, and then demanded his pay be backdated at the proper level! I think even he knows where this is all heading and wants to rake in as much as he can before the gravy train gets derailed.

I think I've touched before on the seeming desperation of McMurdo and others to hold onto the Union at all costs. Some of them have even made veiled threats of violence if we all vote for independence in September. So what are they all afraid of?

Some of them try to use economic arguments, which are half-baked at best. Their opinion seems to be that we rely totally on England and will all starve to death if we break away. Without the block grant from Westminster, they claim, we will have no money. They don't seem to understand that we would be keeping our own tax money and wouldn't need handouts. Then again, I doubt if they really believe this nonsense.

They'll lose their queen, they say. That's a load of rubbish as well. The German family that currently 'reigns over us' got the job because of their descent from the Stuarts/Stewarts, the Scottish royal family. They are actually monarchs of Scotland first, England second. And the fact that they became monarchs in Scotland before Scotland joined any Union means that it is a totally separate issue from Scottish independence. So that scare story goes nowhere either.

Others claim to want out of the EU. It looks highly possible, maybe even probable, that England will pull out eventually, dragging us out with them. If Scotland became independent then we would remain in Europe. They all profess to be mortified at this; they want nothing to do with Europe and hate the whole concept of the European Union. It didn't stop them from sending e-mails, letters and even Gregory Campbell to the European Commission with wee tales about Celtic, though, did it?

So what's the real story as to why they're so desperate for a 'No' vote? The fact is that it comes from Bigotry HQ in Belfast. The vast majority of English people couldn't give a gorilla's fart about the Ulster Loyalists and would be perfectly happy to wash their hands of the whole affair. They see it as an embarrassing leftover of bygone, imperial days. Only in Scotland do you get the drums and fifes out in support and only in Scotland do you get people that actually care.

The Ulster Unionists rely on their 'brothers' in Scotland as a link to the United Kingdom. If Scotland were to become independent then Ulster would have no official tie to Scotland and only be connected to the largest part of the United Kingdom, which wishes the Ulster Unionists would just disappear. This is the great fear. What would happen to them then? That is why their supporters in Scotland are so terrified of a 'Yes' vote, although you will never hear any of them admit to the real reason for their fear.

And finally, Lee McCulloch came out with one of the most stupid comments ever. He claimed that the standard of football in the Premier League is no better than that in Division 1! Of course, Bisto FC has struggled to beat the part-timers in that league, relying on sneaking a goal or two near the end of the match when their opponents are tired out after doing a day's work. Failing that, the referee usually gives Bisto a penalty or reduces the other team to ten men. Since everybody connected with Bisto FC can't handle the truth of their situation and think they're on a par with the best Europe has to offer, it stands to reason, as far as they're concerned, that the opposition they face every week must be fantastic teams. The reality, however, is rather more prosaic: Bisto FC is shite!

The Pish-Stained Alky

(With apologies to Matt McGinn)

Auld Leggat was greetin' when he went to the meetin'
He shouldnae have gone there at aw.
'Cos the proxies made sure that the board was secure
An' Leggat he then shot the craw.

Have you seen an auld alky, auld alky, auld alky
Have you seen an auld alky wi' pish-stained troosers?

His blog disappeared and The Peeppell all feared
That he might just have done himself in
For the ones that he courted and praised and supported
Had failed despite all his spin.

Have you seen an auld alky, auld alky, auld alky
Have you seen an auld alky wi' pish-stained troosers?

Everyone that did hear, and even Graham Spiers
They all thought it was such a shame.
The Peeppell assented and then they consented
To give Peter Lawwell the blame.

Have you seen an auld alky, auld alky, auld alky
Have you seen an auld alky wi' pish-stained troosers?

They told Panorama and even Obama
To see if they'd get something done.
The story unfurled to the rest of the world
And it hit the front page of The Sun.

Have you seen an auld alky, auld alky, auld alky
Have you seen an auld alky wi' pish-stained troosers?

In Govan and Partick and even the Arctic
They searched o'er every scrap of ground.
They looked far and wide, even dredged up the Clyde.
But Leggat just couldn't be found.

Have you seen an auld alky, auld alky, auld alky
Have you seen an auld alky wi' pish-stained troosers?

And then oot past Milngavie some folk they did spy
A leg stickin' ooty a skip.
The terrible smell made the people no' well
And they had to go hame for a kip.

Have you seen an auld alky, auld alky, auld alky
Have you seen an auld alky wi' pish-stained troosers?

The polis were called and from the skip hauled
A body all covered in shit.
There was sick every place, even over the face
So they couldnae identify it.

Have you seen an auld alky, auld alky, auld alky
Have you seen an auld alky wi' pish-stained troosers?

They jumped with a start when the man did a fart
And proved that he was still alive.
They cleaned aw the puke, and had a good look
And then gave each other high fives.

For it was the auld alky, auld alky, auld alky
For it was the auld alky wi' the pish-stained troosers!