“Margrit [Margaret Curran] is about to give her name to a foodstuff, like peach Melba or Pavlova pudding,” wrote one prominent SNP supporter last week. “Margrit’s toast is dry, stale, mouldy, and spread with invisible Labour jam. It’s difficult to swallow, and even harder to keep down. Her career is about to be regurgitated by the electorate of the East End, and a bit like Linda Blair in The Exorcist doing her revolving head thing, projected forcefully into far distant corners.”