How to Report Scotland

I had the pleasure today of watching one of Pacific Quay CSC’s geniuses in action as Chris McLaughlin invited me in to watch him put together a report on sectarianism.
‘It’s just to show there’s no hard feelings about that job application, Spiers’ he said, smiling to me as I was let through security by men in gas masks although why they’d need to wear those I don’t know.
‘Yes, we made sure security knew you were coming and to buzz me immediately upon your arrival, come on upstairs’ he rambled.
‘Yes, your first mistake in looking for a job with BBC Scotland was previously claiming you were a Rangers fan. Oh, I know you were only trying to establish your credentials as the only Rangers fan brave enough to hate Rangers because of what they’ve become in the eyes of my people but it was a foolish move destined to deny you ever working for us here in the Quay. Or Glasgow City Chambers for that matter. And increasingly the PF’s office. Or the Herald. The Record. The Sun. Jeez, you know Spiers, I’d never before thought just how far we’ve come since Catholics were the ones not getting the jobs – we’ve come full circle and wouldn’t you just think that having great grandparents who’d experienced such bigotry, we’d be less inclined to be so prejudiced ourselves? Ha! That’ll be the day! Come on in to the editing suite and I’ll show you how we lay into the Huns at Reporting Scotland, this is how we roll.’

And I sat and observed as he instructed the technician to insert a pic of Ibrox here as the main picture during the introduction, then some fuzzy Youtube footage of half a dozen Rangers fans singing the Billy Boys from some random game years ago, some more Rangers fans to be shown every time we mention the word sectarianism and now, a shot of Celtic fans looking all solemn and earnest with a positive banner that shows they could never be guilty of such terrible behaviour. All in all, the piece screamed, Rangers Bad/Celtic Good. Job done.
I watched McLaughlin as he sat back with an air of self satisfaction around him and I wondered aloud why he was never to be seen carousing with the Reporting Scotland Bhoys at the Chip.
‘Not trendy enough for that lot, I don’t wear sandals and three quarter length trousers. Didn’t go to St. Al’s either,’ he confessed.
And because you’re an ugly runt of a cunt too, I’d wager, I thought to myself. No wonder, he spends all his days holed up in here, dreaming up new ways to demonise Rangers and their fans, this zealot makes me look like Simple Simon.
‘You should get out more, Chris,’ was all I said as I left the Quay feeling slightly uneasy and depressed. What was happening to me, was I disturbed that someone else was battering into Protestants to a bigger audience than I could ever dream of and all at their own expense too? That’s the beauty of it, most Scots are paying for hysterics like Chris McLaughlin to tell them over their dinners how bigoted and disgusting they are with nothing but their own prejudices as evidence. If only News International were funded by the public then perhaps I’d feel more at ease and be more secure knowing I can lay into the Orange bastards with impunity and a gold plated pension to boot.
I was thinking all this and more when I eventually arrived at the bottom of Byres Road and gazing up that west end wonder as the sun set behind it, I felt a shiver and decided to not bother with Ashton Lane tonight. I must have been coming down with a cold or something. As I walked home I barely noticed the dry husks of dead crickets in the gutters.