I first became interested in my family’s origins after
watching the miniseries Roots on TV
in January 1977. Damn, I just realized
that was forty years ago. Ben Vereen’s
character Chicken George was my favorite of the whole series, and remained an
idol of mine for years. Speaking of black
heroes, I recetnly learned that the fictional characters the Lone Ranger and
Tonto may be based on two Afro-American deputy marshals in Indian Territory,
Bass Reeves and George Johnson, who often worked together. Johnson grew up as a slave in the Creek
Nation, Reeves in Arkansas, and while Reeves was unquestionably the best lawman
of the Old West, Johnson was the near second in his own right.
Back on topic, after watching the Roots miniseries, I became fascinated with where my family might
have come from, and I don’t know what gave me the idea to look at maps but in
Scotland I found the town of Hamilton.
Flush with enthusiasm, I went to the public library to borrow what books
they had on Scotland and its history, and those they had were two on the
Scottish War of Independence, one focusing on William Wallace and the other on
Robert the Bruce. From that time on,
even without knowing yet any more of Scotland’s history, the betrayals that led
to the Union and the Jacobite wars and the economic subjugation by the London
government, I have believed that Scotland should be free.
Of course, my views became less romantic and more nuanced
later, but that belief has never gone away.
When the devolution referendum was announced, I became a member of the
Scottish Nationalist Party, and remained so until the UK passed the law barring
foreign citizens from being members of UK political parties. I was affiliated with the American branch
that opened here in the early 21st century before that closed due to that law
and to the fact that neo-Confederates here, still under the influence of Walter
Scott as Mark Twain noted they had been before the war, tried to coopt it as a
means of gaining legitimacy. By that
time, in addition to associating online with members of the Scottish Socialist
Party, I had become affiliated with the Scottish Republican Socialist Movement,
and which would have barred me from membership anyway if it were known.
So, what in the age an overgrown Oompa-Loompa with
Oompa-Loompa size hands is the most powerful chief executive on Earth will
Scottish independence mean to me? For
starters, the realization of a forty-year dream. Scotland deserves to be a nation of its own,
with a government that has its own interests at heart and is in total control
of its own affairs, without having its resources siphoned off and its needs and
wishes ignored by a regime outside its borders that has little or no interest
in the welfare of Scotland for Scots, especially with the pig-fucking cunts now
in power and the only possibly viable opposition in almost as much disarray as
the Dems are here. Scotland regaining
its independence and freedom after 410+ years will be a beacon of hope for much
of the world, and for me. The world
needs that right now, and so do I.
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