Back in 2007 there was a lot of crossover between the blogs I frequented and Canadian editorial blogs. Canadians are fine and editorials are fine, but there seemed to be no end to Canadian opinions about the American election. One of the Canadian blogs was pro-McCain. Six of them were pro-Obama. My response was the same to all of them:

“Shut up and don’t concern yourself with fucking up my country. You’ve got your own massive landmass to worry about. Keep your busybody hockey puck out of mine.”

I’ve swapped Old Glory on the new home flagpole mount for a Cross of Saint Andrews.  The Scottish vote on a referendum for their independence from Great Britain this Thursday. This is not the first political sonar ping that Scotland has made in this direction. England has, on previous occasions, feigned an interest in letting the Scots blow off steam and flipping the Brits a petulant middle finger before eventually coming to their senses (Actually they make a V-sign with their index and middle finger, but that’s another story.) The difference this time is that there are finally polls that indicate it’s a horserace this year. It’s polling around 50-50.

So, I’m excited for the Scots.

And – of course – I’m as clueless as the Canadians who weighed in on American politics.

The Scotland in my head is a lush postcard of heathered glens, low skies, and lakes the color of obsidian.

In reality, Scotland has devolved into Detroit with mountains. It’s in pretty bad shape and it has no one to blame but itself. It’s full of bitter, jobless people who have become resentful of the successful people-down-south who pay their dole. “My people” have become a bunch of drunken and drug-addled Socialist whiners.

England will be much better for the divorce.  At this point their only interest is in Scotland’s deep sea ports for shipping and their naval fleet. Scotland is also where Britain parked their nuke silos. Moving them is going to be a giant pain. Once those kids have a parenting plan, Britain will go on with its life and Scotland will move into a trailer park, scheme, and constantly talk shit about their ex to anyone who will listen.

Scottish expat and writer Gavin McInnes thinks that the Independence referendum will fall short and everyone will be relieved:

“[T]hat’s why the referendum is such a great compromise. It saves face. Scotland can pretend it fought to leave without actually going. It’s like the petulant teenager who screams ‘I hate it here’ and slams the door of his room.”

– http://takimag.com/article/scottish_independence_is_crap_gavin_mcinnes/print#ixzz3DUxPxwLD

The former divorcee in me hopes that if Scotland does gain its independence, it will be the kick in the sporran pouch they need to pull their kilt up and start producing something other than empty eightball baggies, booze, and excuses. Sometimes a fresh start is a fresh start, but the Scots are going to have to find a gear they lost along the way.

Either way, regardless of the vote, don’t look for me any time early Friday morning. I’ll be the bleary-eyed wannabe hugging the commode. … Assuming the police don’t catch me running my Scottish flag through the neighborhood buck ass naked the night before and whooping a lusty rendition of Brave Scotland to the sleepy locals.