In a blinded migratory rush towards Southern English values, eyes shut against the poverty and neglect that surrounds them, insulated from poor health care and housing by a deep layer of lost dreams comprising hundreds of lottery tickets , the fiscally strapped Scotsman seems headed for the precipice by repeating its endless mistake of voting Labour.

Scared of the media, scared of taking their freedom back, scared to run their own economy like a cowering mouse in a Burns poem the Scottish voter shivers nervously. Having glimpsed the sun and cheered when their team won the 'fitba' myopic eyes look forward no further than next weeks dole cheque. Who can blame them? London has crushed Scottish will for centuries.

Writing this as a Scot who for the moment left his homeland its the saddest thing in the world, forget the Kosovars, freedom and hope is being crushed under the weight of a twentieth century tyrant far worse the Saddamm, he's called Westminster.