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Impolitic: secret weapons in i-debate - Barlow, Corden, and the National Blotto

Picture the scene. It's September 17, 2014.

We are finally entering what a man with a red nose who hailed from Govan famously called squeaky bum time. It's tight. The world's media have descended upon Scotland.

Everyone has become a political superstar. Cameras stop punters in the street for a soundbite. Smack-faced Neds are out in force at the sight of expensive cameras with a great sell-on value and are mesmerised by the bright lights. They're doing their dancing daftie routine behind the many willing politicians desperate to up their profile and speak to Kirsty or whoever's on TV.

The polls are unable to separate Yes from No. Professor John Curtice is pulling what's left of his hair out, the curly stuff at the sides and the rainforest in his nostrils. It's chaos. Scotland's referendum the following day has now officially become too close to call.

I have the answer. If you want to nudge a Yes vote over the finishing line, those in charge of programming and the TV schedule should repeat When Corden Met Barlow. If those undecided require a push to claim independence, trust me, show this.

If this is what the BBC thinks passes as entertainment, it needs to change its name now to the English Broadcasting Corporation.

At one point I had to do a double take. Is that David Frost meeting Richard Nixon? Wait, is that a classic Parkinson interview with Peter Ustinov and Orson Welles? No it's…Corden and Barlow.

Obsequiousness and sycophancy were the order of the day. Corden fawned while Barlow gushed. The mutual appreciation descended in to a frenzy of fat, white, talentless, turd-polishing, prime time Bank Holiday viewing. You hang up; no you hang up.

Corden has this uncomfortable obsession with middle ground celebrity, of footballers and doing the robot dance with Peter Crouch and rapping with Rio Ferdinand. That's comedy gold, oh let's do the Crouchy.

I'm not a fan of Barlow or think too much of his music. Corden, after years of training, became a talented actor but has now found his niche, so he could die happy having Robbie Williams and David Beckham's number on his phone.

Forget Cameron talking down his Pinocchio Rex hooter and Osborne's squalid Dickensian strangling of the Welfare State and getting his brother-in-law in on the share options for Royal Mail.

No, When Corden Met Barlow could do so much more. TV's desire for celebrity-fronted documentary is nauseating, and I believe Scotland should get a refund on the licence fee.

Lottery winners Christine and Colin Weir were in the news this week calling for an end to smears in the Independence debate.

Their comments made me wonder if an independent Scotland should just set up its own national lottery fund, The National Blotto. A pound a ticket, a million quid and a huge carry-out for a win.

Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday (remember, after a Yes vote there will be a four-day working week). Millionaires will be popping up like long lost relatives, ironically, after a blotto win.

We can run the National Blotto like a minodge or a local council, your turn will come eventually. All winners will be expected to go off the rails, end up on the street or dead because of the drink. Those who make it will become even more obese living La Dolce Vita with double nuggets off the icy every night.

The coalition say they will intervene if Pfizer buys out AstraZeneca. Uncle Vince did so well with Royal Mail. He has an uncanny skill of being able to say so much yet give away nothing, just like a politician I suppose.

The Business Secretary, in spiv Crombie, added: "This would be a serious step and not one that would be taken lightly but I'm open-minded about it whilst stressing that we are operating within serious European legal constraints."

What? What did he just say? If old Vince has anything to do with it, raid the piggy bank, sell the old football programmes, the classic LPs, and as soon as he announces a share price, buy. No matter what AZN sell for, Vince will sell it off for half the asking price. Get in there.

And in news from nowhere

Political cartoonists criticised for too obvious link of Pinocchio Rex and politicians.

Chaos on new 24 series based in UK; plot snag after clocks went back.

Monica Lewinsky hits back at years of being both punchline and pun…all a stain on her character.

Calls for Third option on referendum; Yes No or giving up the will to live.

Farage not human, says racist.

Putin or Paxman predicted to replace Patten as boss of BBC.

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