Prime Minister Boris Johnston arriving at 10 Downing Street.
NOTEBOOK by BILL HEANEY
Oh dear, X certificate stuff on the TV tonight unquestionably included Boris Johnston’s pathetic attempt to explain what the rules of the pandemic lockdown are; how many rules there actually are; where and when they apply, and which ones are being lifted or simply eased off. Only in England, of course.
The Prime Minister’s explanation was more than enough to make a dyed in the wool unionist come out in support of independence. To be a Yes man, or even support Jackson Carlaw for the First Minister’s job.
Boris was looking and acting like someone out of the Goon Show when I vacated my seat at the end of the sofa. There was no more I could take of it.
A biographical TV documentary on Peter Sellars the other night who, with Spike Milligan, Harry Secombe and Peter Cook, made up the Goons, was hilarious.
However, the Boris Johnston Show, given all the gravity bestowed on it by the BBC, including Fiona Bruce being wheeled out to present it, could easily have passed as the Goon Show.
At least there was an excuse proffered by his sons for Peter Sellars’ madness. It was that the famous comedian suffered from ongoing bi-polar syndrome. Now, where have we heard that one before?
The Sellars’ biography was impenetrable, confused, and could also have passed for an episode of Dad’s Army or The Muppet Show. The Boris Johnston Show was up there with them.
Anyway, who was this clown with the long, untidy, blond locks falling over his face trying and failing to miserably to pass himself off as the Prime Minister and telling the nation to stay alert in the face of the pandemic? Stay Alert!
As if his mangled words were themselves not bad enough, Boris started putting up slides to illustrate his garbled message to to the puzzled nation.
The whole thing was excruciatingly embarrassing. Informative it was not. Johnston was all over the place. He even spoke French at one point. Even that drew nil pois for him though.
Boris was even more patronising than Nicola Sturgeon had been when she pledged that she was going to be “very, very clear” in what she had to say before presenting the public with a raft of figures which, she said moments later, were irrelevant. And out of date.
Then the First Minister said she would be telling us the truth and nothing but the truth and making a pledge to treat us “like grown-ups”. That wasn’t a politician’s usual modus operandum.
For a politician, this was an incredible thing to say; it was quite unbelievable, she averred that she would be telling us the truth.
She might as well have said everyone knows that politicians usually lie and are economical with the truth as they go about their daily business in parliament and elsewhere.
So far as the truth is concerned, the FM started out on her mission to inform us about this pandemic seven weeks ago with the whopper that Scotland was ready and fully prepared to deal with the virus at a time when it very clearly wasn’t.
First Minister Nicola Sturgeon and the BBC’s Laura Kuenssberg.
The First Minister followed that up by telling us we had in place all the PPE, personal protection equipment ventilators, face masks hand wash and other specialist medical kit needed for the brave frontline staff who would be dealing with the crisis. Aye Ready, Aye Right.
Didn’t you notice her nose getting longer and longer by the day?
And then she gave the thumbs up for that £42 million hospital at Yorkhill Quay with all those medical beds that were never used. Where the sheets have never needed changing. And that was after 13 years of SNP austerity.
The First Minister also told us there would be no politics or point scoring. This pandemic was too serious for anyone to be mendacious.
It’s serious now alright and 3086 Scots have died from it.
Crosslet House and Castle View, Dumbarton, where deaths of old people in care have taken place.
I take it none of you have witnessed as much as a smidgen of a wee political dig here and there?
The BBC’s Laura Kuenssberg did – and she mentioned it on that special programme this evening (Monday).
After listening to the bunkum and bluster from Boris for a second time, you could be forgiven for suggesting he should take the rest of the year off. Or the century perhaps?
He should be sent home to Downing Street to watch the wean, although he would probably drop the poor little mite and blame the Scottish nanny. There would be red wine on the couch and shouting.
Or should he do as his ministerial predecessors have done and call in the doctor, although it’s still a bit early for that. The Chiltern Hundreds is already beckoning for Boris.