If you believed John Knox long dead you would be wrong. He is dead but his coarse ranting against the unnatural desires of women to assume equality with men live on in the hearts and minds of the Labour Party in Scotland, as was made apparent in the rapturous reception and support for its stark misogynist message to the women of Scotland last weekend.
I came on a passage from John the Resurrected in the Party’s Wee Red, White and Blue book of handy things to say on doorsteps (but don’t mention alcohol at football anymore). I’m summarising for reasons obvious if you’ve seen the actual text.
The First Blast of the Trumpet Against the Monstrous Regimen of Women
(Aye there was not a ‘t’ on Regimen – refers to rule or governing)
The head of woman is man, and she must be commanded and give homage and obedience and appear before him, honouring him with the distinction of his position for man has received a certain glory and dignity above the woman. Scotland has drunk the enchantment and venom of Circe (a sorceress) to its own shame and confusion.
How abominable before the Party, (that was one-time called socialist but that was a long time ago and now we are exceeding right-wing and intolerant [as is our right]) is the empire or rule of a wicked woman (yea, of a traitress and bastard); and what may a people or nation (not Scotland you understand because we don’t believe we are a nation but a fiefdom of brother England wherein are domiciled our imperial masters) carry on destitute of a lawful head, a mere wee lassie in a tin hat.
I see our country intent on challenging the natural order that Scotland shall remain a region of England and yet there are those who would question this order for a monstrous empire [government] of a cruel woman.
It is more than a monster in nature that a woman shall reign and have empire above man. And yet, with us all there is such silence. I know the natural Scotsman, enemy to the Nats, shall find many causes why we should hold our tongues and ought not to speak out on these things in these dangerous days before a General Election: first, for that it may seem to lose us votes; secondarily, that it may lose us more votes.
But woe be to me, if I preach not the evangel of the doctrine of the Labour Party in Scotland!
If any think that the empire of women is of little importance, that to speak of such is to hazard our MPs their seats I answer, that it is the duty of every true messenger of the Party to let women know their place. For what, I pray you, is more able to cause a woman to forget her own condition, than if she is lifted up in authority above man? It is a very difficult thing to a man (be he never so constant) promoted to honours, not to be tickled somewhat with pride (for the wind of vain glory does easily carry up the dry dust of the earth).
But as for woman, it is no more possible that she, being set aloft in authority above man, shall resist the motions of pride, than it is able to the weak reed, or to the turning weathercock, not to bow or turn at the intensity of the inconstant wind. And therefore I say forbid all women to intermeddle in the office of man.
For it is written in de Viginibus Velandis: “It is not permitted to a woman to speak in the parliament, neither to discourse, neither to reason, neither to vindicate to herself any office of man.” For it is written of a place called Scotland where there is a great monster in nature, that women in those parts are not tamed nor abased by consideration of their own sex, but that, all shame laid apart, they make use of their intellect, and question the word of men, and take pleasure in this way that they care not what men think of them and will not be subject to man.
The Labour Party in Scotland abhors all attempts by women to promote themselves as leaders over men for it has been written long ago in smoke clouded rooms that it is the nature of women to be inferior to men.
A vote for Labour is a vote to keep women repressed and bridled at all times.
Is my repast ready? Toot toot.