" he had not changed his mind that the vote was a once-in-a-generation opportunity."
,,,,
If your gonna win he says why oh why is it a once in a generation opportunity????
vvvvvvvvvvvvv
Tuesday, October 16, 2012
Alex Salmonds snp Referendum is out of the starting blocks
cc
All i ask is the Scottish people to beware the Nationalist
And remember a vote for separation is a vote for Alex salmonds totalitarian rule, The end of a plural Democracy in the snp one party state.
''The enemies of the state are known, arrests are being made, the prisons begin to fill." Alex Salmond
Sunday, October 14, 2012
2014 1914
Referendum
Commemoration
As a Unionist I can only say using the 1914-1918 war and the image of United Kingdom Great Britain united against a common enemy. To counter Alex Salmonds snp YES campaign is fair game as one dirty trick to another. But one wonders when every other Remembrance day is to remember the end of and not the beginning of the Ist world war .
After all the proud brave volunteers were (those who survived ) vastly different men and women at the end of that slaughter war. the cry of home by Christmas was long replaced by Our Glorious Dead.
perhaps the commemoration should be of 1918 in 2018 at the end of the war to end all wars and the terrible price we all paid
But then the Propaganda moment could be lost.
Oh! how the English Eton boys teach you about Tory notions of honour
The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est
Pro patria mori.
Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,
Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,
Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs,
And towards our distant rest began to trudge.
Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots,
But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame, all blind;
Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots
Of gas-shells dropping softly behind.
Gas! GAS! Quick, boys! - An ecstasy of fumbling,
Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time,
But someone still was yelling out and stumbling
And floundering like a man in fire or lime. -
Dim through the misty panes and thick green light
As under a green sea, I saw him drowning.
In all my dreams before my helpless sight
He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning.
If in some smothering dreams, you too could pace
Behind the wagon that we flung him in,
And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,
His hanging face, like a devil's sick of sin;
If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood
Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,
Bitter as the cud
Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues, -
My friend, you would not tell with such high zest
To children ardent for some desperate glory,
The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est
Pro patria mori.