After a day in which I played my part in rejuvenating the economy, I turned on my car radio and was greeted by someone whose voice I did not recognise talking about examinations, of the academic kind. Several times they mention “rigorous exams”. I wondered whether anyone could use that term without reference to judging, or not having the Latin, or even mining. Who, I pondered, could this person be, so lacking in the rudiments of humour?
In my defence, I will claim tiredness, for there is only one person walking the planet so boring and humourless to miss that opportunity. Yes, you are faster than me, it was the idiot Gove. I am convinced that were he still with us, Gandhi would have given this idiot a sound kicking. If Gove lived in India, Jains would form knife wielding gangs and attack him. Members of the Society of Friends are locked in their homes when Gove is in town lest they are tempted to knee him in the groin. Even when he says something with which one might find some common ground the instinct is always to reassess one’s position. Whatever he says, I’m against it.
When the education system first welcomed me to its bosom, the Minister of Education was David Eccles. He held this position on a part time basis, as his other job was in the Goon Show. Eccles later became Minister of Someothershit and is famous for introducing entrance fees to our museums. Tit. I am not sure how much influence he had on me personally during my early years at school, and I don’t harbour any lasting grudges. The old fool is dead now, and I have no desire to seek revenge for whatever early trauma I suffered at King Richard III school, so full of dismal terror was the time.
We have, in this country, a proud tradition of allowing total twats to be in charge of education – I can recall Quinton Hogg, Patrick Gordon Walker, John Patten and Shirley Williams being put in charge. Rivalling Gove for being totally unsuited were Keith Joseph – mothers wouldn’t even let their children look at, let alone speak to him, and of course, everyone’s favourite aunty Mag the Hag. Even among all of these psychos, Gove stands out. I cannot explain why. Fortunately, I do not need to. You only have to listen to him for two minutes. I will not be so cruel to say that looking at him for two seconds would have the same effect, as I pride myself on not judging people by their appearance. Please help me to maintain these minimum standards. Let our views of him be formed by his policies not his face. Even if you would rather have a man dressed as a chicken formulating plans for our schools.
