Liz was born under a wandering star...

Yes indeedy, Glasgow City councillor Liz Cameron, currently caught up in a dispute over  pay and conditions for cultural services staff, has been lecturing the said staff on the need to belt-tighten.

A subject on which of course Liz is a world authority - at least when it comes to securing one's seat-belt on an aircraft. Apparently Liz, in the course of her current many heavily-expensed duties has run up a £14k  travel bill since 2007. 

Ooh, that's a lot of money isn't it? 

Well, yes and no. 

For JT readers of a certain age might remember the following  feature from January 2006 that delicately raised the question of Liz's wanderings in her then capacity as Glasgow's Lord Provost. Incidentally I have a theory about Liz's need to roam - she's undertaking a global search to find a decent hairbrush. 


No luck yet then, Liz...

"£60K buys a "welcome break from scruff"- Lady Provost asserts


With news this week that the Lady Provost of Glasgow has managed to burn through sixty thousand of your earth pounds in travel expenses in the last 9 months, said lady provost has hit back at ill-informed media claims that she was taking the piss.


Pausing only to admire her extensive collection of visa stamps, Ms Liz Cameron told a frankly incredulous waiting media that the 60 big ones was money well spent, saying, (and I’m not making this up), : "We have helped to change the way that Glasgow is perceived and this has led to more and more interest from across the world."


Indeed. Doubtless, all across Foreign, people are saying :


"Truly, the good people of Glasgow must be loaded. Look how many times that Cameron woman turns up abroad at various free buffets, expenses no object."


And lest your average weegie might think that Glasgow might have charms too numerous to elucidate in attracting visitors, Ms Cameron rebuffed such ill-judged opinions saying (as above) :
"Glasgow does not have a royal palace or a new parliament to promote it, but it does have me." 


There you go, what have you got to complain about?


Finally, as the ultimate refutation of criticism, Ms Cameron went on to say (as above, again):


"I use my talents as a speaker of three foreign languages to directly engage with people of power and substance across the globe."


The subtext being : "I use my multi-lingual powers to get to the front of queue for the buffet where I talk to important people similar to myself, instead of the scruff I usually have to deal with back in Glasgow."


Inside: To go to New York for Tartan Day last year, Ms Cameron managed to get through the thick end of seven grand, while the Provost of Aberdeen did the same trip for a third of the money. But there you go you see, Aberdonians eh? What a bunch of tight-fisted bastards."

Lord Forsyth: "Scottish Tories must...must...grrrrrrrr."

Lord Michael Forsyth, Scottish Secretary in two past Tory governments criticised the Scottish party's performance in the last election saying the party north of the border needed to connect more effectively by pretending not to be flesh-eating zombies.

Pausing only to gnaw on what looked like someone's fuckin'  arm, Forsyth told journalists nervously eyeing the exits, that: "Perhaps it's a hangover from the Thatcher era but Scots voters have subsequently shown reluctance to vote for a party peopled by fuckin' zombies. This has to change."


In a wide ranging critique of the party north of the border, punctuated by Mr Forsyth moaning and growling, he recommended that the party needed an overhaul from top to bottom : "We need new blood. Lots of it. Mmmm, blood."


While acknowledging current leader Annabel Goldie's many strengths, Mr Forsyth speculated whether she was the undead to carry the party forward. "Annabel fails to connect with the electorate and it's not just because she's a flesh-eating zombie. She's just really weird looking."


In other political news, Bill Aitken has announced his intention to retire from his job as Tory MSP to spend more time practising his golf swing and aimlessly wandering through the dark watches of the night in search of human flesh. 
Much like (rest of sentence removed on legal advice)...

COULD THIS BE THE FACE OF A FUTURE FIFER?


                                
                                                                                    






Scientists working at Stirling Castle confirmed this week that they have either successfully recreated the facial characteristics of a long-dead medieval knight or have predicted how people from Fife might look in the future. 


"It's very early days" Professor Beaker told The JT, "but it's just possible that given a long enough evolutionary timespan then people in Fife might start to look sort of human."


Unfortunately, Professor Beaker ruled out any other likely evolutionary advances, "I'm afraid that even at the end of a process that might take 20000 years, Fifers will still not be able to drive properly."


Inside: Actually, Fife dudes, you know I'm only kidding! The portrait above is quite clearly just a photo of John Hartson... 

David delighted to deputise for Danny:" I wasn't doing anything else important" he tells the press

The Tory party's only MP in Scotland, David Mundell, insisted this week that he wasn't at all disappointed about the way things had turned out. 


Staring into the middle-distance and systematically shredding a paper hankie to bits, Mr Mundell told The JT:


"What with being the only Tory MP in Scotland returned yet again, I thought the party at Westminster might have thought me the best candidate for the post of Scottish Secretary," sighing heavily, Mr Mundell continued, "It's funny how life turns out, isn't it?"


Mr Mundell told how after the coalition deal between the Lib Dems and his party went through he'd expected to receive the call from David Cameron, "I made sure my 1571 was working and checked that David had my mobile number. I'd even started to think about about how I'd like to decorate my rooms at the Scotland Office and made some notes for the speech I was going to make welcoming my appointment. And then I just got a text message. Just a text message."


The message from David Cameron requested that David be deputy to Danny Alexander, a Lib Dem MP set to take up the post of Scottish Secretary.


Blinking furiously, Mr Mundell insisted he wasn't  bitter, "I understand why David Cameron had to give the job to Danny, politics and all that. And being deputy Scottish secretary is a big job you know, Oh yes."


It is thought that David, 48, feels no sense of humiliation playing second fiddle to a man 10 years his junior. "I'm looking forward to assisting Danny. This week for example I'm helping him with his Lego and then we're going to the zoo. Later on this month, I'll take on Danny's list of engagements because he's got to swot for school exams."

I'm sorry, but I just couldn't help myself...

So, an even faster farewell then

to Gordie than we'd anticipated. 
As Lord Snooty and his pals move the  crates of Pimms into Whitehall and kick back with a relaxing read of "Grinding the faces of the poor into the dust for Dummies", we spin up the Tardis and return to 2005.


You'll remember dear reader that in those happy, far-off times, Gordon was slightly narked at Tony for not fucking off like he'd promised. But be fair, in 2005 Tony had yet to finalise he details of his post-Westminster never-ending world tour stuffing his pockets with money. The bastard. 


When Gordie made this speech, social-democrats could still pretend that Adam Smith was a friend to the poor and markets would solve all the world's problems and we all know how well that idea stood up to reality... 


This is from October, 2005.


" New post for Gordie! (No, not that one…)

Gordon Brown was appointed Chancellor of the newly established Adam Smith College in Fife this week. I thought only Yoonies had Chancellors but never mind, we’re talking Fife here - they do things differently there.

Anyway, The JT has secured a copy of the speech oor Gordie will make to graduating students, written in the week when he discovered that Tony "I don’t see dead people" Blair announced to the Labour Party Conference his intention to continue as party leader for ever and ever.

Oh Lordy.

"Graduates, family, friends and members of staff, it gives me great pleasure to officiate at the first graduation ceremony here at Adam Smith College. When I was first offered the prestigious honour of becoming your first Chancellor I was minded to regretfully decline.

However, it now appears that, due to unforeseen circumstances, I will have a bit of free time on my hands for the foreseeable future so I was happy to take the opportunity to spend more time at home, in Fife, watching Raith Rovers getting gubbed every week and availing myself of opportunities, like this one, to make heavily coded attacks on, er, someone.

As Adam Smith himself no doubt said at some point, trust is fundamental to social cohesion.

Without trust, society is impossible. And, at a personal level, when someone says, for example, "Honestly I’ll be out of here in a matter of months", the rational man takes that statement at face value and proceeds accordingly.

Unfortunately, Adam Smith does not tell us what we should do when you find out that a certain someone is a lying bastard, but no doubt he just never got ‘round to it.

Elsewhere in his work, Smith delineated the workings of "the hidden hand of the market", explaining how our individual pursuits of self-interest combine to produce a functional, anonymous system for exchanging goods and services thereby producing beneficial outcomes for society as a whole. Services like buses for example. Buses that might, one day, knock down someone while he’s crossing the road, blethering to that googly-eyed, half-daft wife of his.

Finally, as this year’s graduates go forth to make their way in the world, I can offer only one word of advice: don’t take at face value anything a plausible but dim ex-public school boy says to you.

Public school boys, believe me, they’ll fuck you over every time."

Inside: "Actually, Tony, to get a really good view of Edinburgh from the castle ramparts you need to stand really close to the edge. Here, let me help you up…"

"

So, farewell then...

Gordon Brown. 
Yes, the only man to put down OCD in the skills section of his cv, this week announced his imminent retirement from frontline politics. While the decision marks the end of a career ultimately characterised by the bitter taste of failure, it's not all bad news. Because now I've got an excuse to recycle gags from past iterations of The JT forever and ever...
Today: It's September 2000 and Sarah Brown (Macaulay as was) shares with our readers exclusive extracts from her honeymoon diary...

"Day One, Afternoon: En route to Bangor, Maine.

Such an exciting day. Gordon over the moon about how the wedding had gone, "a not unpleasant experience" he reckoned. The airline upgraded us to Club Class with free champagne! I spend the flight watching the clouds go by while Gordon assists the captain in working out a more cost-effective flight plan for our trip to Bangor.

Day One, Evening.

Our hotel looks out across the expanse of Cape Cod. A soft sea breeze blows gently through our bedroom window. I shower and put on my nightgown and slip between cool cotton sheets. Fall asleep sometime after three am to the sound of Gordon gently caressing the keys of his lap top.

Day Two, morning.

Such a romantic setting. After breakfast, time for a walk. The beaches of Cape Cod seem to stretch for ever, with hardly another person in sight, with only the calling of seagulls for company. It’s a place of quiet contemplation, a world to share with a loved one. Back at the hotel, Gordon seems pleased to see me and promises to have a quick look at the beach before the end of the holiday. I plunder the hotel's magazine selection while Gordon goes back to helping the manager re-install the on-line reservation system which, according to Gordon has "quite unacceptable lag times."

Day Two, Afternoon.

A leisurely lunch. Catch sight of Gordon waving cheerily as he whitewashes the hotel's wooden frontage. Nothing to watch on TV, I nap on our bed until wakened by Gordon in the late afternoon. His body smells of salt, sand and fresh sweat drying on his skin. He looks deep into my eyes and I feel myself open to him as I sense his excitement. "Look at this" he breathes heavily. I look, it’s a piece of paper. "I got the Treasury to fax the figures through this morning, look at that, the current account revenue figures are looking very promising."

Fuckin' seagulls are still fuckin' squawking.

Day Three, Evening.

Find a local bar, full of randy fishermen, get drunk, go home with Clyde.

Day Four, Morning.

Get back to the hotel, late morning. Gordon's left a note. He's out for the day working on the buildup of green algae in the tidal basin of the Cape, should be back late today, early tomorrow at the latest. I borrow the hotel rifle and spend the afternoon shooting bastard seagulls.

Day Five: En route to London.

I've given up. I tried to explain to Gordon that this wasn't going to work out but the satellite phone link to his oceanographic survey ship keeps breaking up. I sit back in my seat as the aircraft prepares to take off. To the side of the runway a seagull wheels lazily against the blue Maine sky. 

Bastard seagulls.

Inside: Gordon solves algae problem, starts work on mysterious scarcity of seagulls."

"Shut it, Angus, I'm talking"...

Alex Salmond acted quickly over the weekend to take control of the evolving coalition scenario looming at Westminster.


While one would've thought that tactical questions over Westminster were best addressed by the leader of the SNP group in that parliament, Alex skilfully ensured that the group leader, Angus Robertson,  was kept busy doing other things while Alex addressed the world's media. 




As news of the hung parliament broke on Friday, Alex spoke to the press while Angus went to Greggs for bridies. On his return, despite Angus hoping for his own word with the media, Alex quickly checked the bag of bridies and sent Angus back to Greggs to get brown  sauce on them. 


On Saturday, Angus was expected to be unavailable for press calls all day because Alex had asked him to get a litre tin of tartan gloss at B and Q and not come back 'til he found it.


SNP newish boy John Mason, had his arse handed to him by the voters of Glasgow East forcing John to look for a real job. He told The JT : " The people have spoken: the bastards." Which  was of course not original,but still a cracking gag.


He is replaced by Labour hackette Margaret Curran who is, of course in reality,  Davros, Emperor of The Daleks. Attempting to hide his identity behind an ill-fitting blondish wig and glasses, the despotic half-man, half machine, told the rather bemused audience at the count that he would not rest until the Daleks ruled the universe.


At this point, several Daleks in the hall could contain themselves no longer and attempted to joyfully climb up on the podium. With predictably hilarious results,,,

As...

 volcanic ash from Iceland  again closes the airspace around the Western Isles, we ask: what effect is the crisis having on the airport at Stornoway?

Before the crisis



During the crisis



After the crisis