A VERY good day to you. You’ll know me as Ann Widdecombe, but one is presently considering changing one’s name to Django. Indeed, you likely cheered in oppressed solidarity last week when I threw off my chains to rebel against our enslavement to the EU, turning my back on the Brussels plantation anthem Ode To Joy. Admittedly, this was more reflex than rebellion – I’ve spent most of my adult life refusing to face the music and turning my back on joy.

Of course, I remain humbly grateful for my new role as Brexit Party envoy for the ruling Monarch. And especially proud to represent all loyalists who serve her – even foul-mouthed Scotch police officers. I am, as you may know, referring to a particularly distasteful incident which took place in Glasgow last Saturday – which I believe has “gone viral” on social media – where an unsavoury word many conflate with Jeremy Hunt was heard emanating from the mouth of a uniformed officer, prefixed by the query “Are you coming the”.

I will always defend those who themselves defend the Crown, no matter what distant region of Albion they hail from. So when Police Scotland officers employ Anglo-Saxon colloquialisms in the course of duty, I must always assume it has been a wholly justifiable belittling of female genitalia.

The officer’s inquiry had apparently been deployed to ascertain the character of one particularly disruptive individual – who was scurrilously attempting to spoil the buoyant mood of a glorious loyalist parade by blasting “rebel music” from his car. How he got so close to these patriotic footsoldiers and joy-fuelled revellers with all the city-centre roads closed off, surrounded by motorway tailbacks, I have no idea. A truly disruptive person indeed.

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On these thankfully rare occasions, when officers of the law cross the line and let vile sexual crudities slip, I believe we must put our shock to one side and attempt to understand the context of such outbursts. And, as always, it seems all blame can be directed towards the fractured and Godless nature of today’s society, where indifference to divine retribution has led to standards of the Queen’s English falling lower than the groin glands of the snake in the Garden of Eden.

It’s a truly sad day when the only way a dutiful servant of Her Majesty can impose their authority is to attempt communication with these primitive creatures in their native tongue.

The divides of march

Despite this disruption, it was wholly invigorating to witness so many of Her Majesty’s loyal defenders stride valiantly and gallantly through the city streets, glorifying the Union as their ominous tribal thump echoed around the so-called Dear Green Place! It certainly filled my heart with optimism for the nation’s future.

There were only eight arrests and apart from that, all more or less passed without incident. Unless you count jubilant cheering from the masses lining the route as a breach of the peace! Or the woman falling foul of the strictly-observed “don’t cross the march” rule who was shoved and spat on, but she should perhaps be grateful to have DNA for any forthcoming trial. At least it wasn’t a Catholic priest this year!

Although there was a distinct lack of reportage on this exuberant annual celebration in the mainstream media – even in the so-called unionist press – I can confirm this was a rousing, joyous, inclusive, family parade. This was evident in the child-friendly aesthetic of Disney-like toy soldier uniforms, comedy goose-stepping and Les Dawson-style musical timing – performed by men all clearly in robust health despite their advanced years, with the beetroot hue on their faces indicative of a burning internal passion.

Indeed, the jubilant onlookers could have lit cigarettes off the marchers’ cheeks if they had so wished, an act perhaps symbolic of the undying torch flame of unionist fervour passed on through countless future generations.

On the evidence of this annual celebration of inherited reality tunnels, it will surely not be long until Orangefest – first and last held in 2015 – makes a triumphant return to George Square. Although the bouncy castle and marquees couldn’t be erected last time due to a freakishly unseasonal ill wind on the day, the children were still “blown away” by the informative speakers and stirring history lessons - highlighting the true facts on our nation’s history that they will hopefully pass onto their own offspring one day. And surely even the most staunch Republican has to admit Orangefest had a better line-up than this year’s TRNSMT.

Out of Order

MY hopes that this mass display of Scotch support for peace, harmony and the Union might signal the end of the country’s binary tribalism soon soured, however. It came to my attention that on the same day, 12,000 members of the Republican McCult were congregating to insult Her Majesty by marching upon the Royal Burgh of Ayr – despite being firmly told five years ago that their shortbread tin cos-play had been cancelled by popular demand!

Languidly marching “All Under One Banner”, this flag-waving rabble would apparently prefer their chains attached to the EU rather than England – clearly ignorant to how it was the mighty Union itself that elevated their beloved Ayr to global glory!

The 1707 Act opened up trading opportunities with our colonies across the seas, resulting in myriad improvements to the town and lifting its global standing. Ayr’s textile, wool, linen and shoemaking industries thrived for centuries afterwards. Crown funding provided by the Convention of Royal Burghs led to a lighthouse being built on the River Ayr in 1712, a quay in 1713 and also paid for much-needed repairs to the harbour and High Tolbooth. The CRB then installed street lighting for all – but little did they know that 300 years later a shameful display of open rebellion would cast the town back to the dark ages!

READ MORE: 'Political polarisation' fears over Glasgow's 2019 Orange marches 

After the procession in Glasgow, it was no surprise to hear that one of these so-called Bravehearts – many sporting battle re-enactment outfits – ended up on social media spouting a crude torrent of foul language, accusing a small gathering of pro-unionists of being female genitalia with unionist affiliations. 

And unlike the Orange Order, who have always worked closely with the council and police, the AUOB organisers apparently refused to apply for a licence or take out public liability insurance, claiming their “peaceful rallies” haven’t experienced any issues that required such legalities! Clearly then, it is somehow perfectly acceptable for nationalists to shout loudly about women’s genitals in Ayr – but heaven forbid you are a loyal servant of Her Majesty doing the same thing in Glasgow while simply trying to maintain Order!

And finally...

YOU might be aware of yet another march that took place on the same day – Pride in London. I hadn’t seen so many men in leather masks living out their submissive fantasies since my time in the Conservative party.

With 1.5 million in attendance, one couldn’t get moving in the capital that day – yet such a commotion could perhaps have been avoided if my previous solution of conversion therapy to tackle “unhappy homosexuality” had been heeded.

I once wrote: “If anybody turns to a properly qualified practitioner for help, there must be a presumption that he or she can get it. It is not a state crime to want to change one’s sexual leanings.” It still isn’t! And there will also perhaps be room to move in the streets on Pride day if science finds the answer to the issue, like I said last week.

I’ve previously admitted that I am proud to remain a virgin, and although some might suggest this disqualifies me from commenting on the sexual lives of others, remember it certainly doesn’t stop the Pope! And having converted to Catholicism from the Church of England some years ago (after they outrageously chose to ordain women as priests), I have to say it may now be time to organise my own minority march – for Catholics who support Her Majesty and the Union!