Dear Rupert

Source: Derek Bateman Dear Rupert

(This is how stupid they think we are. Amid the slurry of effluent arriving via email and Twitter after my recent rant was this oh-so-clever wind-up. So clever that the author enjoyed his joke too much and blew it. He (and I have his email address)  forgets I have form in this genre myself having made my very first blog an elaborate hoax about spying inside the BBC for Alex Salmond. My satire on being hired by the Daily Mail as a columnist made the Media Page in the Guardian. So, eat dirt, Rupert. You’re an amateur. Worth reprinting though to give the Yessers a laugh at your expense)


I love Scotland – Lived here for twelve years – great quality of life – kids went to great ( and affordable) schools in Edinburgh – before Cambridge (only slightly pissing me off as an Oxford chap).

Wife ‘does something in the Arts’. We have lots of likeminded friends in universities , banking, civil service etc. – we all love it here -great houses for the money – even in Edinburgh – though it kind of leaves most of stuck here, given London prices. And a lovely little Heilan Hame for the weekend and half-term.

I enjoy reading your copy Derek – better written than most of the native stuff – same chip though – usually worn lightly on just one shoulder. But this piece? What were you drinking ? – hope it was some of the whisky that keeps me and my chums’ share earnings up – we run that too.

If it weren’t for the likes of me and my mates up here – it would all grind to a halt. Most of the Alasdair and Fraser types here rub along with us well enough – they like to think of themselves as honorary Englishmen (and why disabuse them of that conceit?) – but Christ – you couldn’t let them work unsupervised.

As for the Glaswegians – and the rest of the wasted West – well let’s just say they keep professionals like me and my doctor and lawyer chums gainfully occupied.

Let’s just clarify matters. We run the universities, the government (whatever Nicola thinks), the banks, the arts, galleries, museums, hospitals, businesses (what’s left of them), the law (at least the important bits of it). We own the nicest (but mostly economically unproductive) bits of your lovely country – and of course we have, and always have done – run the country itself – or at least our chaps in London do. Oh- and of course – the indispensable BBC – but you know that better than most.

You had a chance to ‘change’ it (but don’t imagine an ‘Independent’ Scotland would have been independent – we’d still be running things).

But you blew it – granted with a little – ok a lot – of help from me and my friends – but in the end, when it gets down to it – you didn’t have the guts. Or somewhere in the depths of your souls – underneath the braggadocio, the maudlin sentimentality, and the whisky – you really, truly , and irrevocably knew you couldn’t hack it. And even if you had squeaked through – well, we’d still have been here running things. Did I mention – we’ve no where to go? But it did help that you kindly let us vote – us and whole heap of second home owners with better places down south. We also ran the referendum – and that helped too.

We are not going away. We are civilising missionaries bringing enlightenment to a backward – and often lovable -if ungrateful tribe.

You know deep in your hearts you need us – even if only to have someone to hate.

As I said – I love Scotland – we all do, me and my mates – and we will always be here for you.

Toodle Pip.

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