Arithmetricks

The BBC dealt a further blow to Alex Salmond’s referendum hopes last Sunday night by revealing that conventional arithmetic no longer applies in Scotland.

“Fourth is the new first,” smirked David Dimbleby. “That makes UKIP the European election winners for North Britain, and if Alex doesn’t like it, he can complain to BBC Glasgow.  Care to join me in a celebratory titter, Professor Curtice?” 

As dancing erupted in the streets of Kensington, pasty-faced Danny Alexander emerged from hiding to confirm, “This is a shattering development for the separatists.  Alex Salmond arrogantly assumes that the traditional system of counting is his personal property.  But the truth is that, by daring to take its future into its own hands, Scotland is walking away from sensible sums and into a world where numbers mean only what Westminster says they mean.”

Entirely by coincidence, the UK Treasury backed up Mr Alexander’s view by releasing the latest cataclysmic figures on the costs of independence for him to stand in front of.  These conclusively proved, through a lot of squiggles and arrows you wouldn’t understand, that upon separation the Scottish Government would need to create 17.8 entirely new public bodies for each man, woman and child in Scotland, and that this would make the whole silly project cost more money than there was in the entire universe.

Speaking for Labour, Johann Lamont, chief paper-clip organiser at the Scottish branch, didn’t know what to think, since no-one had given her a script and, anyway, there hadn’t been a debate yet.  Her motor-mouth deputy Anas Sore-Ear was somewhat less reticent, telling slavering reporters, “Abandoning proper adding up is a move Labour have been advocating for years.  It allows us to pool and share resources without drawing attention to there being bugger-all to dish out in the first place.  Now boom and bust, far from being abolished, can co-exist simultaneously, depending on which dangerous ideologue is massaging the figures.”

Turning to the referendum before anyone could stop him, Mr Sore-Ear commented, “According to the new maths, 68% of Scottish electors now support anti-indy parties.  Some of those parties have repugnant views, of course, and if they don’t shape up by 19 September we’ll be the first to condemn them.  But basically independence is now down to just Alex, Nicola, that specky guy and a ragtag mob of abusive online scumbag tosser ne’er-do-wells.  It’s all over bar the shouting, which fortunately is my speciality.”

The Tories issued a statement saying, “We don’t normally comment on arithmetical issues, since our personal assets tend to be weighed rather than counted, and we have staff to do that.   As for UKIP, they are undoubtedly a squalid bunch of chancers, and there is 0% chance of us agreeing an electoral pact with them until it becomes greasily expedient.  However, as far as the referendum goes, we like the parts of their name that say “UK” and “dependence Party”, and dislike only the part that says “In”.  So we’re 89.473684% in agreement with them, which definitely warrants a few congratulatory tweets and, weather permitting, al fresco naked dancing round a burning sporran.”

In a Good Morning Scotland interview with Gary Robertson, who had spent the night poring over Ladybird books trying to find questions easy enough to answer, victorious UKIP MEP David Coburn asserted that 70% of our laws were made in Europe, although he couldn’t specify any, had only the haziest appreciation of the concept of “laws” and wasn’t entirely sure where Europe actually was. His appearance did, however, confirm a 33% increase in UKIP candidate categories, to include not just “racists, homophobes and fruitcakes” but also “grimacing buffoons”.

From a heavily guarded bunker in Little England, a UKIP spokesthing confirmed that the party’s 24 MEPs would be drawing 100% of their expenses and the bars of Brussels had better be prepared for some “roistering, rogering and regurgitating.”  Turning up at the European Parliament every so often to hurl abuse at Herman van Rompuy would operate on a rota system, assuming at least a twenty-fourth of them remained sober enough to organise it.

There are sixteen weeks to go until the independence referendum.  Under the old numerical system, that’s 112 days.  Under the new one, eternity.

I'm Sorry, They Haven't A Clue

Dog-walkers in the vicinity of BBC Scotland’s Pacific Quay stronghold are feverishly speculating about the source of the high-pitched whine they keep hearing.  Is it Lord Reith approaching escape velocity as he rotates in his crypt?  Is it fire alarms constantly going off as Better Together commentators’ underpants spontaneously combust?  Or is it simply the squeak of air escaping from the saggy, patched-up hot-air balloon of the BBC’s credibility?

“We’re not biased, it’s just a series of unfortunate events,” insists the corporation’s spokesman Lemony Snicket, emerging gingerly from the front door on the end of a cattle prod. “We can’t explain why every regrettable blip in our referendum coverage seems to favour the No side, unless of course the rumours that God hates Alex Salmond are true.  But we’ve consulted Professor Brian Cox, who knows all about string theory, and he says there must be at least one parallel universe where our output accidentally favours Yes, so we’re legally watertight on the impartiality front.”

What about the CBI debacle?  “Yes, that was terrible, wasn’t it?  Fortunately, James Cook outed himself as the whistle-blower and was put on five months’ toilet-cleaning duty before he could do any further damage.  To console him in his exile, his desk’s been covered in gifts from well-wishers - flowers, whisky, tablet and Wings Over Scotland badges from vicious Cybernats, and what appears to be a carefully-wrapped alarm clock from Blair McDougall.”

But is the BBC actually going to resign CBI membership, like other organisations still in possession of a moral compass? “That’s an issue for senior management in London, whose in-trays you probably don’t realise are crammed with important stuff.  Currently they’re busy in a farting-about workshop, then next week they’ve got their regular indoctrination session at MI5, followed by a group shopping excursion to “Tories-R-Us” to select a new chairman for the BBC Trust.

“In the meantime, we’ve mobilised a squad of unpaid interns to find out which other organisations we’re involved in without knowing. Fortunately, it seems that many of them don’t officially exist, so we don’t have to tell you about them, although you’re welcome to submit a Freedom of Information request countersigned by five grandparents.  As for the others, please note that SAS isn't an airline or a crack military unit - it's Sad Absurd Sycophants, of which royal correspondent Nicholas Witchell is Life President.  I'm also reliably informed that the terrorist organisations Blue Peter inadvertently funded during the 1970s have now promised to return our milk bottle tops to us.”

How is all this affecting the morale of staff as they rehearse for becoming unbiased during the formal campaign period?  “Oh, it’s a nightmare.  We were already struggling to train Kirsty Wark to interview Alex Salmond without sounding like a hysterical macaque.  Then we had a crisis with Jackie Bird, whose face became stuck when she tried to say the words “Sunday Herald”.  Glenn Campbell is forever complaining about the load of compromisin’ on the road to his horizon.  Only Gary Robertson keeps smiling throughout, but we suspect that it’s because he doesn’t actually have the faintest idea what’s going on.”

The chaos gradually taking hold has, says Snicket, spurred the BBC to a momentous decision.  “We’ve decided the only option is to take our referendum coverage entirely out of the hands of the newsroom, and move it into the area of comedy.”

This opens up tremendous opportunities for the BBC’s team of teenage animators, who did such a great job ridiculing an independent Scotland’s ability to defend itself on Sunday Politics Scotland a few weeks back.  “They’ll be getting a regular slot on a new show called Alistair Carmichael’s Cartoon Cavalcade,” explains Snicket, “where they’ll produce hilarious animations in which Alex Salmond, dressed as Captain Pugwash, will patrol the coast in an old bathtub, his frustration mounting as Scotland is destroyed by death rays from outer space.”

The animators will also play a large part in the opening titles of 2014, a side-splitting sitcom about organising the Commonwealth Games.  “Suffice it to say that the demolition of the Red Road flats is back on the agenda.  Not to mention the Forth Bridge, the Wallace Monument and of course the Scottish Parliament.”

Meanwhile, Gavin Esler, whose film on the Vote No Borders group was widely hailed as “comedy genius” after saturation coverage on BBC News 24, has agreed to bombard viewers with similar masterpieces.  “It’s an exciting moment for the debate,” comments Snicket, “with so many grass-roots campaigns being organised by Conservative Central Office.”  Esler, who has renounced all aspirations to be Jeremy Paxman in favour of making people pee themselves with laughter, is hard at work on his follow-up, No Shit Sherlock, about a group who believes that Scotland should jack in independence and just let itself be governed by Benedict Cumberbatch.

“We’ve also got big plans for panel shows,” drools Snicket. “Queue? Aye! will feature Stephen Fry and some of his clever pals making hilarious jokes about how long it will take Scotland to join the EU.  Then there’s Have I Got Trews For You, where teams led by Alan Cochrane and Susan Calman will discuss the ridiculous costs of the First Minister’s wardrobe.”

It’s not all good news, though.  Snicket still shudders at the memory of the pilot recording of the new, revamped Just A Minute.  “It was all going fine until we asked the panel to give the positive case for the Union without hesitation, deviation or repetition.  I think it was eleven hours before the emergency services broke in and rescued the audience.”

So the BBC is all set for the final straight, it would appear.  Not that things are ever straight with the Beeb.  Isn’t this still, er, a wee bit biased?  “Oh, yes, of course.  But it’s only the Electoral Commission we have to worry about, and if they get stroppy our smartarse lawyers will soon have them tied in more knots than Spaghetti Junction.  Anyway, just in case we need something to redress the balance, we’ve got Blair McDougall and Alistair Darling on standby to be filmed trying to deliver a piano up a long flight of steps.”

What if, despite the Beeb’s valiant efforts, the people of Scotland still vote Yes?  “We’ll have a group hug, collect our P45s, sprint to a fleet of waiting limousines, watch Pacific Quay being blown sky-high with dynamite, then do a 100 mph dash with police escort to Carter Bar, where Rory Stewart and a group of hand-holding acolytes will be waiting to welcome us to our new lives.”

And if Scotland votes No?  “Ha ha, you’ll get exactly what you deserve.  Wall-to-wall Jeremy Clarkson until the end of time."