Once Upon A Time...

… there was a magical world where nothing was quite as it appeared. 'Twas the stuff of fairy tales, and everyone was jolly happy. Nobody died!

But, if they did IDS was going to do everything in his power to ensure that at least some of the people lived happily ever after, and that the rest lived in 'blissful' ignorance of the facts.

Imagine a situation whereby one organisation pretends to assist the police with an also-pretend 'investigation' into their own activities, whilst 'journalistic' reportage pretends that the ongoing scenario is some sort of unearthed revelation. Throw a local MP into the mix- he'll pretend that "this has come as something of a shock"- and all that's left is for the general public to pretend that this is an unexpected outrage, and we're effectively done! Imagine living here!

But, let's see if we can't flesh it out a bit, shall we, see if we can't lend this 'fabricated' world a tad more credibility? Let's refer to 'the investigated' as, effectively, the 'Middleton Hunt Kennels,' in North Yorkshire, thus making 'the investigators,' the 'North Yorkshire Police.' The local MP might have a name like, 'Kevin Hollindrake. Who knows, he might even regularly fraternise with the upper echelons of the aforementioned same hunt group… allegedly. 

A jolly tricky one to sustain, eh? We'd need to conjure a







Thanks to John Perivolaris

countryside quite literally 'crawling' with problem' foxes, 'necessitating' such comments as, "foxes desperately need to be culled." Curiously, we would still also find a need to covertly supplement this 'bursting' population with released foxes for the hunting of, which is theoretically currently illegal. I would imagine that a spokesperson for the hunters would have to fabricate a 'statement' along the lines of… well, where could one even begin with such a paradox? Best keep the ol' gobs shut and allow a professional team of legal misrepresenters to do the talking. Or, far more likely, to set about intimidating the doubters into compliance. And, of course, there's the ecological contention to consider, the one that argues that, "hunting is an effective way of managing a an over-populated species." Pure fantasy!

But, also much the same sort of skewed 'reality' that the recently deceased Chris Woodhead has just


Thanks to Grant Hutchinson

departed, that is to write one conjured from the pages of a modern fairy tale, or else from the minds of those given to regular misrepresentation of the facts.

The current Education Secretary, one Ms Morgan, described Woodhead as an "immense figure in the world of education," wittering on to 'claim' that, "our education system is better for it." That would be Woodhead's "raised aspirations," her words, not mine! Whilst she was speaking I would imagine that she wore the wide-eyed look someone who disbelieves virtually everything she is saying.

So, let us cast then aside the man's (Woodhead's) ingrained dogma and spiteful methodology, whereby each new and enthusiastic intake of sparkly, fresh, young teachers would be greeted with the words, "The profession is riddled with incompetence, complacence and malpractice!" Not wishing to corrupt this post, I have paraphrased the man. His actual words were invariably couched in far more unpleasant and Third Reichian terms. Even so, I have actually bothered to research the cadaver far more thoroughly than he did the thousands of teachers and support staff that he chose to routinely lambaste.                   

Thanks to Trey Ratcliff

Wilshaw (current Chief Inspector) was quoted as saying that he, "greatly appreciated the courage and bravery he (Woodhead) showed in confronting a complacent education establishment," never, of course, pausing to praise the real workers labouring under this remorseless onslaught of denigration. Blunkett (Blair's Education Secretary), another highly unpleasant character, found it harder to praise the man that he had personally chosen to retain in the role of Chief Inspector. He said that, "behind the scenes we agreed." Perhaps then Blunkett grew to dislike Woodhead because he was rather like himself. Make no mistake, Blunkett rose through the ranks entirely because of his disability, not, as presented, in spite of it!

"Brave to the end, the children's champion who fought useless teachers as hard as he (Woodhead) battled crippling disease." The Daily Mail has of course chosen not to reference the numbers of useless journalists who fester under its own reactionary banner. Increasingly like some sort of rabid dog, The Mail seldom these days bothers to conceal its undemocratic agenda.

"Tributes poured in for the Academic who took on left-wing teaching unions…" The Daily Express was also highly selective, with its own brand of dishonest journalism. There are, of course, just too many useless journalists for the Mail to harbour alone!


Thanks to Anne Worner

So, no mention of the hypocritical actions of the man then? No mentions of the affair with one of his own pupils, surely as clear an example of unprofessional behaviour as ever one is likely to find in these times of 'rampant unprofessionalism.' As the UK tracks ever further towards its own brand of plutocracy, we will, no doubt, find increasing volumes of examples of this, "do as I say, not as I do," behaviour. He may well have abused the trust his pupils miguidedly placed in him, but he was absolutely determined to stamp hard upon many of those with far more honourable goals!

Perhaps some sort of state funeral might yet be in order?  

"And, just who are these people, whose skulls might be so empty as not to see the real world festering away beneath the two-dimensional, sparkly princesses and flag-waving national-pride fabricated one?" one might ask. Well, meet The lads!

There's 'Believer- Long-Odds Douglas,' 'Generous- Team-Sport- John,' 'Mr- Positive at Both Ends- Brightside,' 'The- Calculator with a Beard- Professor,' and there's 'The- When You Know You Know- Gut-Truster!' These are the dreamers, the glory seekers, the back-page philosophers, the Wednesday night warriors, the have-a-go-heroes! Yup, these are the Ladbrokes Lads!

They're not just morons, prepared to gamble away the children's next lunch, the family holiday, the six-year-old's bike! Hell no, these lads are glory-seekers, they're philosophers, warriors, they're heroes! Those t-shirts one sees being worn on the street- Help for Heroes- why they're dedicated to the type of 'man,' who every Wednesday night eyes up the kiddy's piggybank, contemplating heroically winning back the happy family home, whilst pretending not to notice that the Gut-Truster's taken to sleeping rough, under the local railway embankment. 

When you know you know, you know. And, you just know that they didn't 'all live happily ever after.'