Small Classes or Death

8am. In the office early. Great opportunity has presented itself. Late last night every PFI school in Scotland fell down.  Big Mother Theresa sees it as a chance to push her education agenda and has decided to replace them all with a Grammar School.  This is a tremendous boost for Operation Secondary Modern. And as a bonus, seeing thousands of their kids sitting on wind-swept hillsides waiting in vain for the promised Secondary Modern Caravan Schools to arrive will prepare the Scots for Independence.  Serve them right.  Drawing up a statement.

9am. Meeting to discuss the progress being made with Operation Secondary Modern more generally. Pretty much complete success so far with all attention focussed on the comparative handful of Grammar Schools we intend to set up and hardly any mention of the massive conversion of other schools to dead-end Secondary Moderns. The initiative comes into effect at the same time as the rolling cuts programme is getting underway. Raising class size to fifty and shortening the school week to four days will give the new Sec Mod sector a very distinctive character.

Will this cause problems?  We have still not agreed on a name for these schools.  Secondary Post Moderns was judged too close to the proscribed Secondary Modern name.  Cheap and Cheerful Schools is the favourite at the moment because it uses language the lower classes will understand and identify with.  I quite like Runner-Up Schools myself but Boss Greenie wants the recognition of failure inscribed in the name a bit more.  Some of us are beginning to have worries though about what we call the 'Left Behind Middle Class Scum' whose kids fail the 11 plus and who can't afford to go private. How will they take all this?  Still, Operation Secondary Modern is proceeding full-steam ahead regardless.

10am. Potential scandal its raises 'head' so to speak.  There are a number of Free School heads (27 at the last count) being paid hundreds of thousands of pounds for running Free Schools that never actually materialised.  Apparently one of them is the head of five Free Schools that have all been stillborn and has been drawing something like three quarters of a million a year and living in Monaco!  We've tried terminating their contracts but they've threatened to leak the story themselves if we do.  Still, as long as we can keep it out of the press no harm done and after all every great idea has teething problems.  Must keep a lid on this one.

10.15am. Visit the Virgin Clinic for the Under 10s, one of the new clinics that are popping up all over the country to cope with the number of primary school children having breakdowns because of our testing regime.  Lots of whining about this, although it's good to see that people like Branson are in there making money out of it already.  What annoys me is that these liberal do-gooders don't seem to realise that stress is the whole point of testing: we need to sort out the winners and losers as early as possible.  Of course there are casualties, but that's war - I mean education.  As Big Mother Theresa put it: 'If you can't stand the heat, get out of the primary school classroom so we can fine you for non-attendance.'  That great role model Prince Harry is visiting the clinic this afternoon, pretending he gives a fuck, in one of those public relations stunts they make him do.

11am. All hands on deck time.  Massive mobilisation to deal with protests against education cuts in Surrey. The mass sacking of teachers, classes of up to fifty, closing down parts of the curriculum and a four-day week have provoked full-scale rebellion.   Shiiit!!  Parents, kids and teachers have occupied a number of schools.  My squad roll up at the Sunny Meadow Academy in a nice rural middle class area.  There is a large banner over the Academy gate, PLEASE FUCK OFF YOU TORY SCUM.  The gate has been padlocked shut and, while we wait for the way to be cleared, petrol bombs are thrown over the wall at our vehicles.  None of your cheap plonk here.  These are £15 a bottle bombs!   At last we are through the gates.  We rush the school buildings in full riot gear where the occupiers are chanting THE MIDDLE CLASS UNITED WILL NEVER BE DEFEATED OR AT LEAST PROBABLY NOT HOPEFULLY.  The senior deputy, Miss Petronella Goodheart, sets fire to herself in protest against the cuts.  Her last words were 'I die for a decent education for all the little Clives and Fionas.  Don't Mourn; Hold a Fete!'  Still, tear gas, clubs and shields do the job.  The school is retaken.

Interrogating some of the prisoners afterwards. 'So Clarissa Ponsonby-Smythe, what have you to say for yourself?', I ask the bloodied and gassed figure sitting in front of me.  'Small classes and qualified teachers or death', she croaks.  Death it is!  We give the ringleader, Geoffrey Carruthers, a local Tory councillor, the third degree.  'How do you know I only got a third?', he sobs. 'I've never told anyone. Can't afford to go private and just wanted a decent education for little Roger'.  This is just what some of us are worried about.  Those middle class parents whose kids fail the 11 plus are not going to sit idly by while Operation Secondary Modern takes effect at the same time as massive cuts.  We are just asking for trouble.  I can see a lot more protest ahead.  We are not just shafting the proles here. These people are not scrounging bloody miners after all.  They are middle managers, solicitors' clerks, junior accountants, the very backbone of the country and the economy.  Raise it with the Boss but to no avail.  Too late to change course.  We're just going to have to ride it out.  As Big Mother Theresa says: 'They shouldn't have stupid kids should they.  Fuck 'em!'

3pm Visit the Prince Harry Academy for Posh but Thick Parasites.  Everyone knows who the mother of the school was, but no one seems to know who the father is.  This has caused the school real problems - lots of anti-social behaviour among staff and students, drinking and drugs, casual sex, low achievement all round and a complete failure to hold down a steady job or maintain a relationship.  Don't think that anything can be done.  Just have to hope that the school grows out of it.  Fortunately they have a massive public relations department (biggest department in the school) to manufacture feel-good stories, but boy do those people have to work hard.  Wonder how the Ponce, I mean the Prince, has got on at the Branson clinic.

3.30pm. Next on my inspection list is the new Oxford Toff Academy, sponsored by Oxford University and the Saudi Royal Family.  Didn't realise there were such close ties between them.  That's something they've managed to keep quiet.  Mind you everyone working in Whitehall is warned on day one to never mention or even acknowledge Saudi influence.  It's the great no go area in British public life.  They are invisible but their money is everywhere.  Indeed cynics might say, although not if they want to keep their jobs, that successive British governments have spent more time looking after Saudi Arabia than they have Britain.  Anyway we have to decide if it is good enough to qualify as a Grammar School.

The students are enrolled by invitation only, the sons of down on their luck public school Oxford graduates, whose parents couldn't afford private school fees (pater's in prison, bankrupt, done a runner, topped himself to avoid the scandal, working as a mini cab driver - that sort of thing!). A certain amount of inbreeding is compulsory to ensure that no prole genes creep in and there is a strict chin measurement requirement. The less chin the better as they say. All the lessons are in Latin of course. No exams. Just straight into their chosen college en route to the House of Commons. And all paid for by the Saudis. Grammar status assured. Indeed, looking at the paper work, I found it had already all been signed off before we even arrived. How's that for efficiency?

4pm Now that the decision has been taken to extend the Phonics Revolution across the curriculum we have been busy preparing the way for Mathics, Histics, Chemics, Geogics and, of course, the only subject that doesn't need revolutionising because it's incomprehensible already, Physics.  I've been sent to discuss the changes necessary in Histics with the Cabinet's great historian, Foreign Secretary  Boris Johnson.  As the author of a number of dodgy history books, he is ideally placed to make a major contribution.   His history of Rome definitely showed the way.  No mention of that Corbynite bastard Spartacus in the whole book!  Bloke wanted crucifying anyway.  And his book on Churchill!  There was stuff in there that no one had ever made up before.  Brilliant chap Boris.

He's speaking at a rally of the party mindless.  'We're going to build that wall', he tells his cheering audience, 'and the French are going to pay.'  He has them going completely wild when he shows them his Donald Trump underpants and leaves the stage to enthusiastic chants of 'Britain First! Britain First!'.   Boris is a great admirer of President Trump and, like him, is a serial fantasist, pathological liar and a real man of the people.  His 'We'll bomb where you bomb' pledge has put us right back where we were the last time the US had a moron for President and Tony Blair was PM.

Boris tells me he has great ideas for filling up the curriculum with a series of interviews with historic figures that he will conduct, or did he say concoct?  He shows me a few that he has put together already.

Queen Elizabeth I: 'Oh Boris. Do me big boy. You can sail your Armada up my channel whenever you like …'

Duke of Wellington: 'And you're sure that this will bring Napoleon to his knees Boris …'

Queen Victoria: 'Oh Boris. Do me big boy. Make me your Empress of India over and over and over again …'

Field Marshal Haig: 'And you're sure this will bring the Kaiser to his knees, Boris?'

Mrs Simpson: 'Oh Boris. Do me big boy. I don't care if we do it on the throne or on the floor …'

Winston Churchill: 'And you're sure this will bring Hitler to his knees. Boris?'

Margaret Thatcher: 'Oh Boris. Do me big boy. You can retake my Falklands anytime…'

This certainly makes fake history both really accessible and truly memorable, if a bit repetitive.  Still it's something the kids will never ever forget and just like Phonics it's all complete bullshit.  They can be easily tested and failed if they actually get any facts right.

Boris was, of course, sacked from his first job as a journalist for making up interviews and as he puts it to me 'One has been lying ever since, dontcha know.  How do you think I got this job?  What japes eh, tally ho old bean!  Must go.  Need a quick Iwanka Trump before my next gig.'

8pm. Been looking forward to this evening for weeks: the Toby Young Education Awards in association with the Sun newspaper.  Definitely the educational event of the year.  RebeKKKa Brookes  is making the presentations this year.  First up to receive the treasured Toby Spittoon is that great educationalist Kelvin Mackenzie for his outstanding contribution to helping destroy the very idea of Multicultural Education.


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