Through a brandy and rose wine haze I can see it all laid before me, a great panoply of invention and disaster, the story of us. We used to manufacture things, there was heavy industry, coal, steel, ship building, fishing, innovation, enterprise and ... misery. A few people profited, everyone else was left with a plague of industrial diseases, generational poverty, a cultural vacuum and a strong sense of being exploited (though we were never sure who to blame). Now we are in a post everything scenario. Nothing really exists, our history is imaginary, our future is doubtful and our present is only marginally bearable. We have parks where our heritage is buried and our battlefields are ploughed over, museums and media that tell an alternative version of history and a disabled Scottish government who wants the best but have no clear idea nor mandate as how to achieve that, ever. Welcome to 2019, Brexit, scandals, sandals, socks and all. Unreliable history.
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