There’s been a lot of talk of late about a referendum on Scottish independence.
Let ‘em ‘ave it! is what I say.
By that, I don’t mean open up on ‘em with a battery of Gatling guns. I mean, it’s their country, it’s up to them.
If it was me, I’d vote yes.
Some people say it will result in England, Wales, NornIrn and Scotland having less muscle in Europe.
Is that what independence is about – political and economic might?
I thought it was about being able to determine your own destiny.
But it did get me thinking about England and the proverbial divide between north and south and whether it was time for a referendum on whether we should split the country in half.
Below is a rough border of where I think England should be divided.
Then I was wondering about what we should call these two ‘new’ countries. And I couldn’t help getting my hackles up about when the glorious House of York was duped off the throne by that pesky Henry Tudor, (who was Welsh, by the way), and his turncoat ally, Lord Stanley.
So to redress the balance, and to give Yorkshire back its rightful inheritance, I thought this might be a suitable name for the new Motherland:
Then I started to get a bit giddy. I don’t know if it was the power going to my head, or my formative years being filled with “Guess the pink bit” on the map of the world, but I thought this iteration was a marked improvement.
Of course, we’d need a new flag as well. I was thinking of something simple…
Anyhoo, I think it’d be a great idea. So, I’m nominating myself as the inaugural President of Yorkshireland.
All those in favour say: Aye, ‘appen as mebby.