Boris Bunter’s Christmas Tory Party

“Let’s Get Breakfast Done”

To help bring 2019, and indeed the second decade of the 21st Century, to as swift a conclusion as possible, the subject of this year’s All Change Please!‘s fractured seasonal literary masterpiece* is ‘Billy Bunter‘, written by Frank Richards (just one of Charles Hamilton‘s 25 pen-names). For the purpose of much-needed satirical humour, All Change Please! intends to re-name Billy Bunter as Boris Bunter.

For those unfamiliar with the stories of Billy Bunter, he is a fictional schoolboy who features in stories set at Greyfriars Boys’ School. They were originally published – as early as 1908 – in various weekly story papers, novels, television shows, stage plays and comic strips. Bunter is famously overweight as he is obsessed with food and is utterly unscrupulous in helping himself to his schoolfellows’ sweets, cakes and hampers. He has every intention of repaying the cash he borrows, but his celebrated postal order, always due to arrive the next day, almost never materialises.

Bunter is in the Remove stream whose 13-14 year-old pupils have been selected to ‘jump’ an academic year in order that later they will have an extra year to prepare for Oxbridge entrance examinations.

As Wikipedia reveals:

‘Bunter’s defining characteristic is his greediness and dramatically overweight appearance. His character is, in many respects, a highly obnoxious anti-hero. As well as his gluttony, he is also obtuse, lazy, racist, inquisitive, deceitful, slothful, self-important and conceited. These defects, however, are not recognised by Bunter. In his own mind, he is an exemplary character: handsome, talented and aristocratic; and he dismisses most of those around him as “beasts”. All these, combined with Bunter’s cheery optimism, his comically transparent untruthfulness and inept attempts to conceal his antics from his schoolmasters and schoolfellows, combine to make a character that succeeds in being highly entertaining but which rarely attracts the reader’s lasting sympathy.

On many levels, Bunter’s character is deeply unattractive. He is the living embodiment of several of the seven deadly sins: pride, envy, avarice, sloth and, most especially, greed and gluttony. Added to these, Bunter is also inquisitive, deceitful and obtuse. However these traits are softened by Bunter’s cheery optimism, his comically transparent untruthfulness and his reliable ineptitude when attempting to conceal his antics.’

Now who could this description possibly remind you of?

The Billy Bunter stories reveal something about life in a public school during the first half of the last century. Perhaps of greatest interest is their use of ‘posh-boy slang’ of the time, with the use of phrases such as….

“Will you let a fellow speak?” yelled Bunter
“Cut off and get it, old chap.”
“You fat, foozling, frowsy fathead —!”
“Can’t find the fat frump anywhere.”
“You fat spoofer!”
“Sorry, old porpoise.”

Meanwhile the references to various items of tuck shop food treats and any examples of inappropriate innuendo made in All Change Please!’s version of Billy Bunter are entirely derived from its rapidly ageing imagination.

Are you sitting uncomfortably? Then we’ll begin…


One crisp late October morning, once upon a long time ago, the Bullying Club (as everyone called them) were assembled in the Bluefriars Boys’ School Remove Study. Grease Smug, Dominic Rabid, Andrew Loathsome, James Stupidly and Savage Livid were busy discussing plans for their traditional end-of-term Christmas Party. This mainly consisted of acquiring and then stuffing themselves with as much festive tuck as they possibly could, including, of course, plenty of well-cooked gammon. Only Boris Bunter was missing from the meeting.

“Has anyone seen the fat round frump?” asked Grease Smug. “He’s looking more and more like a Christmas Pudding every day! Let’s all throw something at him when he finally arrives!” They really were very unpleasant childish bullies, and insulting each other came naturally to them.

Suddenly the door flung open and Boris entered in a state of considerable excitement, wobbling not unlike an enormous pink blancmange being carried in on a plate.

“I say, you fellows! I’ve got some spiffing news! It will really make this year’s Christmas Party the best ever!”

“So spill the baked beans then, you fat spaffer,” said Andrew Loathsome, as loathsomely as he possibly could.

“Well, you know there’s been a lot of talk recently about disbanding the Remove stream and making us all join in with the other classes?”

“How can we possibly be expected to study for Oxbridge if we are going to be dragged down by all the plebs?” said Savage Livid, in a state of utter lividness.

“So I suggested that to settle the matter we should organise a vote on it to elect the School Captain – and they were all daft enough to agree, even though they haven’t got a chance! So when we win and I become School Captain, we really will have something to celebrate over Christmas! Just wait until everyone sees the size of my majority!”

“Who will be daft enough to try to oppose us then?” asked Dominic Rabid, rather rabidly.

“Well, let’s see. The main chaps in favour of the idea of removing the Remove stream are Joe Swansong’s Library Democrats – they want all of us to Remain together in the same classes as we were in the First Form – but don’t worry, there’s not enough of them to make a real difference. Although for librarians they have been making quite a lot of noise recently – apparently their slogan is “We shall not, we shall not be Removed” – but that’s never going to catch on, is it?

Then there’s Jeremy CorBlimey’s Common Room followers who don’t seem to be able to make their minds up whether they want a Remove or a Remain stream, and anyway he spends all his time digging the school vegetable garden, so no real problem there. I guess there will a couple of marginal swing seats in the playground, but let’s face it, we hold all the cakes… We’ll make mincemeat of all of them! Indeed, if I don’t win: “Ego vellem magis mortuos in fossa.”

“Except I doubt if there’s a ditch anywhere big enough to fit you in!” joked Grease Smug, exceedingly smugly.

“What we need to do first is to write our manifesto, making up lots of unbelievably fantastic things we say we’ll do if we win,” continued Bunter. “We can just promise anything we like – afterwards no-one will actually remember what we said we would do. And if they do we can explain it was all aspirational and just a statement as to what we might do if and when the opportunity arose over the next five or ten years and it helped us stay in power for even longer. We could even announce we would Take Back Control of the Tuck shop, even though we never lost it. So any suggestions you fellows?”

“Well, we could offer to provide 100 new low-cost ‘starter’ desks for first formers,” suggested Andrew Loathsome.

“Excellent, we got away without doing that one last time, so we can use it again,” said James Stupidly.

“Wait!” said Bunter. “I can Trump that! Let’s promise to privatise Matron, and then we can get an attractive blonde American nurse instead. Someone who can teach us all about the latest medical technology.“ Suddenly, and in those more innocent days for no apparent reason, Bunter remembered that he needed to urgently visit the Tuck shop to acquire a couple of nice cream pies with enormous red cherries on top, along with two rather scrumptious-looking iced buns.

“And just wait till you hear Dominic Cunning’s plan,” Bunter continued. “I bumped into him coming down the corridor and he came up with the brilliant wheeze of promising the school an extra 350 jam tarts a week from the tuck shop. Of course when we say extra jam tarts, that includes all the ones they already stock. He also suggested we paint it on the side of our battle bikes as a slogan and cycle all round the school pavements – though of course that would be the naughtiest thing I have ever done.

“Those are all very clever ideas,” said James Stupidly, “but how are we going to pay for them? Some interfering teacher is bound to ask.”

“No problem,” said Boris – “I’m expecting a postal order soon from my rich uncle Vladimir Bunter in Russia.”

“And then of course there’s the all important Green vote to consider,” said Dominic Rabid. How about we pledge to get the woodwork of the school pavilion repainted back to its original green colour? And don’t forget that the most important thing is to ensure our secret school garden hedge fund is kept in good shape for the future.”

“Fracking Hell, what Wizard Wheezes!” exclaimed Savage Livid.

“I expect Jeremy CorBlimey will offer everyone free full-fibre broad beans,” suggested James Stupidly, and not at all cleverly.

“Don’t be such an old parsnip! It’s going to be years before people become interested in eating high-fibre diets” exclaimed Grease Smug.

“Hadn’t we better suppress our last end-of-term reports?” asked Loathsome somewhat nervously. “There are some awkward comments about us there we wouldn’t want leaking out into public.”

At that point, Boris shouted ‘Fag’, and a rather vacant, somewhat intoxicated-looking youth immediately appeared.

“Ah, there you are Gover. Go over to the school office, find our last reports and burn them, will you? Cut along, now. And no jokes about not sitting on them, please.”

“Yes, at once Bunter,” said Gover, somewhat glibbly, and he scurried off.

“What a Jammie Dodger** you are Bunter,” said Rabid. “How many more clever lies can you think of to tell everyone?”

“I’ve never tried to lie,” lied Boris. “I just get things wrong sometimes.” He felt his nose grow slightly, but just in time remembered that fortunately his father had taught him how to spell Pinocchio, so he knew he was clever enough never be found out.

Undeterred, Boris went on, “I will give a speech on the main school steps to launch our campaign, and I’ll be sure to include lots of Latin phrases that no-one will understand but will make me sound jolly clever. I’ll have to ask Mr Google, the new Latin master, to help with the translations, although I’m not quite sure how accurate he is. I know! How about: ‘Veni, vidi, cepi’ – ‘I came, I saw, I feasted.’?”

“Or perhaps ‘Piffle, wiffle, waffle?’”  Savage Livid sniggered savagely. “Whatever that means? Perhaps it’s ‘I piffled, I wiffled, I waffled’?”

Boris gave Livid a stare as cold as an empty chaired ice-sculpture hiding in a freezer to avoid journalists. “And we’re going to need a jolly good slogan,” he continued, as usual completely ignoring anything he didn’t want to hear.

“What about: ‘Unleash Bluefriars’ Potential’?”

“Unleash Bunter’s trouser belt, more likely!” joked Stupidly, fortunately without clarifying exactly what he meant.

Let’s Get Breakfast Done?” Smog suggested.

“No thanks,” replied Bunter. “I already got a substantial breakfast done about three hours ago, and anyway it will be lunchtime soon. Going back to the slogan, we want everyone to think we’re going to take back control and clear up the current mess – even if was one we made it ourselves. Everything needs to be clearly labelled, neatly organised and put back exactly in its proper place according to the rules – the way things used to be: ‘Make Bluefriars Straight Again’.“

“OK chaps, remember our aim is ‘panem nostrum comedemus et erit etiam’ – to have as much cake as we can possibly get hold of, and then to eat it all. Mind you then we won’t have our cake any more, so we can’t actually have our cake and eat it too, but who cares about logic?”

And so the electioneering began and Boris and the Bullying Club got up to all sorts of dirty tricks, spreading all sorts of false facts, porkie pies, and tall tales just like they were butter on a toasted crumpet.

Sadly though Boris Bunter was such an amiable buffoon that everyone voted for him without realising what a fat, foozling, frowsy, fraudulent fruitcake of a bounder he was. In the end Bunter achieved a majority that was even larger than he was. What a fantastic Christmas Tory Party the Bullying Club had, and between them they somehow managed to scoff all the festive tuck intended for the whole school, and without a care for all the poor losers who were just left wondering whether Bunter would turn out to be a benevolent or a malevolent school captain.

Bunter had successfully managed to mislead everyone into thinking that the most important thing was to get breakfast done, even though it would take much longer than he was prepared to admit for the kitchen staff to prepare his half-baked, oven-ready offering. And they had also been persuaded to believe that Jeremy CorBlimey would ruin the school by admitting a lot more disadvantaged pupils and raising the school fees to pay for them by amounts that Bunter had grossly exaggerated. Thus the turkeys voted to get Christmas done, and got duly stuffed.

“We now have an overwhelming mandate to democratically deliver the will of the pupils,” pronounced Bunter the day after the election. “In a word, this is the irrefutable, irresistible, unarguable decision of the Bluefriars’ pupils. I will not let the 47 pupils who voted for us down, but we will of course completely ignore the needs and wants of the 53 that didn’t vote for us,” he wisely didn’t add as he knew Maths was not his best subject.

“We are now united in our aim of making this school the best in the world, and indeed, one day I predict a Prime Minister shall come forth from our midst. But for now I urge everyone to find closure and let the healing begin, or to put it a much better way, to find the kitchen and let the eating begin. Let’s get Breakfast done!”

Immediately after the election Joe Swansong, Dennis Skinny-Latte, David Awkward and Chuka Umma Gumma were off-rolled for their poor results before they did any further damage to the school’s reputation. Jeremy CorBlimey was last seen pausing for reflection while digging a deep hole for himself in the school allotments.

“I say,” said Boris afterwards. “That was a truly jolly jape! Sometime when we are older we must do it all again, except not just in a school, but across the whole country…”


Unfortunately Frank Richards died in 1961, so we shall never know what happened to Billy Bunter when he grew up – if he ever did…

* Other previous fractured seasonal literary-based posts are also available, such as last year’s ‘Br’er Exit and The Tory Party‘ or ’Tonight at Morning Break’, ‘Theresa in Wonderland‘ and of course the classic ‘The Gove of Christmas Present‘.

** For the sake of historical accuracy, and to help prevent the possible spread of false news, it should be noted that back then it would be unlikely that Savage Rabid would have called Bunter a ‘Jammie Dodger’, as the popular biscuit was not named as such until it was first manufactured by Burtons in the early 1960s. The name was derived from Jammie, meaning ‘lucky’, and the surname of Roger the Dodger, the character from ‘The Beano’ who first appeared in 1953. But that doesn’t make Boris any less of a Jammie Dodger….

With best wishes for Christmas and the coming Blue Years from All Change Please!

Ten Years After

 

For the benefit of the younger reader, Ten Years After were a popular U.K. blues beat band combo of the late 1960s and 70s, who performed regularly in music festivals, including Woodstock. As an ‘album’ band, they were best known for the track ‘I’m Going Home’. Uncertainty remains as to exactly what it was that had happened to them Ten Years Before, but it’s of no great importance because, apart from their name, this post has nothing whatsoever to do with the band.

The only connection is that today is All Change Please!s 10th birthday, which makes it exactly Ten Years After it published its very first post. A lot has happened since then, except of course in education where things have generally gone backwards to the way things were Fifty Years Before.

Anyway, as usual, All Change Please! likes to take this annual opportunity to report and reflect on its posts from the past twelve months in the pathetic hope you might be encouraged to re-read some of them, or, more likely, catch up on ones you didn’t read in the first place.

The three most read posts, presented in reverse order to increase the suspense, have been:

3. Just Williamson

With nothing better to do, All Change Please! likes to amuse itself by trying to be the first satirical educational blog to comment on the announcement of a new education secretary, which isn’t difficult as there aren’t many other satirical blogs out there for it to compete with.

Having likened Gavin Williamson to Richmal Crompton’s ‘William”, All Change Please! was careful not to mention the tarantula he keeps on his desk, and his being sacked for taking a Huawei leak while Defence Secretary, but hey – no-one’s perfect…

2. Michaela the Unconquerable

Now, to be quite clear, this post was not intended to be written as an angry attack on Michaela students, their hard work, politeness and consideration for others, their backgrounds or their success at gaining GCSE results – but it was meant as a considered critique of the school’s narrow conservative academic curriculum and strict behaviour policy.

1. Beyond Our Ken

This special edition of All Change Please! was a tribute to writer, designer and educationalist  who sadly recently passed away. Ken Baynes was one of the very few people who understood the potential of design education, not primarily as a means to produce a future generation of professional designers, but as a powerful and important learning experience for everyone, and one that potentially extended across the curriculum as a whole.

 

But as usual, All Change Please!’s favourite posts do not necessarily reflect the Will Of The People, and it would therefore also like to nominate:

Br’er Exit

“Well now, that rascal Br’er Exit hated Br’er EU on account of he was always cutting capers and bossing everyone around. So Br’er Exit decided to get rid of Br’er EU if it was the last thing he ever did! He thought and he thought until he came up with a plan. First he persuaded Br’er Dave to call a referendum. Then he fix up a contrapshun like a red bus, painted it with slogans he had made up and sat it in the middle de road.”

Also during the past twelve months All Change Please! has launched its audacious ‘Absolutely Absurd Alternative A to Z of Education…’ in which it reports on the different but also similar approaches to education on the nearby distant parallel Planet Urth…

‘A’ is for…

‘B is for…

‘C’ is for…

‘C’ is for… Continued

 

 

 

 

 

 

‘B’ is for….

Yes, it’s the second exciting volume of ‘All Change Please!’s Absolutely Absurd Alternative A to Z of Educashun’ in which it reports back on its recent visit to Planet Urth. Being a parallel universe, their world of teaching and learning bears a striking resemblance to our own: many things are exactly the same, but due to their particular fractured timeline, some things are rather different in an interesting way.

If somehow you managed to miss ‘A’ is for…, then you can  catch up here.

 

Bash Street Kids (from the 1954 Beano Report into Education)

On Planet Urth The Bash Street Kids were created in the early 1950s as a model for schools in the second half of the 20th Century. The kids were highly subversive and learnt quickly how to take charge of an oppressive situation and turn it to their own advantage, thus acquiring essential skills for the future. Unfortunately as a result of cuts to public services, today’s schools are still exactly the same as they were before. Perhaps when Smiffy, Danny and Plug grow up and all become successful politicians in charge of education, things will finally start to change. Let’s face it – they couldn’t do a worse job than the current ones.

Billy Bunter

Billy Bunter is a fictional schoolboy. According to Wikipedia he features in stories set at Greyfriars School, where he is in the Lower Fourth Form (Year 9 in New Money). Bunter’s defining characteristic is his greediness and dramatically overweight appearance. His character is, in many respects, a highly obnoxious anti-hero. As well as his gluttony, he is also obtuse, lazy, racist, inquisitive, deceitful, slothful, self-important and conceited, although he does not realise any of this. In his own mind he is an exemplary character: handsome, talented and aristocratic. All these, combined with Bunter’s cheery optimism, his comically transparent untruthfulness and inept attempts to conceal his antics from his schoolmasters and schoolfellows, combine to make a character that succeeds in being highly entertaining but which rarely attracts the reader’s lasting sympathy.

But that’s all on Planet Urth. Of course, no politician in public life on this planet whose name begins with B could possibly resemble this monstrous character in any way… or could they?

Blackboard

The blackboard was invented in the mid 19th century in America, but, quite unlike the introduction of change in schools today, many teachers refused to use them at first and demanded they be removed as it needed them to alter the way they taught: they were now required to stand at the front of the class with everyone staring up at them, which understandably they found somewhat off-putting.

On Planet Urth during the latter half for the 20th century as part of the move towards political correctness blackboards were renamed as whiteboards. Today they are known as ‘interactive’ whiteboards, although the first interactive whiteboard was invented by one of All Change Please!’s very own teachers in the 1960s (Geography, natch) who instructed his class to ‘Watch the board while I go through it‘. He was also famous for telling one boy ‘If you need to use a rubber, use the boy’s behind‘, and instructing another to ‘Go and see if you can squeeze some more milk out of the dinner ladies‘. But that’s another story…

Blended learning

Blended learning is an approach to education that combines a mixture of a variety of digital online and printed educational materials and opportunities for traditional face-to-face teaching and distance learning techniques.

These are then all crammed into an industrial-sized blender and emerge as a strange looking, tasteless, mushy dark green pulp which is then drip-fed to all students to regurgitate as and when required.

 

 

Board rubber

On Planet Urth the board rubber was invented on in the mid 1880s expressly for the purpose of throwing at children who were not paying attention in class. It was only many years later that some of the more progressive teachers realised that it provided an effective means of creating chalk-dust clouds in the classroom and they could pick on some poor unfortunate child to be ‘board monitor’ to save them the job of having to clean the board before each lesson.

Boarding School

Most children find schoolwork boring and their subsequent employment tedious. Boarding schools on Planet Urth are where wealthy parents send unwanted children to learn how to be the best at being bored. Instead of expending all that energy doing interesting stuff and exploring their world, taking responsibility for themselves and having fun, they are taught how to sit still and keep quiet, and to do exactly as they are told by highly experienced boring adults who are largely well past their best-before date.

Brexit

So far, Brexit has had very little to do with the improvement of education, which is probably why there has been very little improvement in education in recent years. Which is pretty daft, because we’re going to need some major improvements in schools to produce the young people we are going to need to get us out of the current Brexitmess we are creating for them.

Meanwhile Theresa May’s assertion that ‘Brexit means Brexit’ has caused some problems for the Awarding Bodies. For example, when students have been asked in an exam what the meaning of the word ‘Equivocation’ is, they have answered: ‘Equivocation means Equivocation’, which is factually correct and therefore has to be given full marks.

Of course some examiners have argued that Mrs May never means what she says, and thus have not given such an answer any credit. In this situation many candidates have demanded endless meaningless indicative re-marks until they finally get the result they want.

Bullying Policy

Thankfully these days all schools on Planet Urth have carefully worded Bullying Policies. These lay out the correct procedures for teachers to follow when bullying children, including how to most effectively demean them in front of their friends, the frequency of telling them how worthless they are and when to threaten them with perpetual detention if they do not do exactly as they are told. There are special sections on picking on and shouting aggressively at children in the face for relatively minor incidents using a policy somewhat strangely called ‘flattening the grass’, apparently intended to get rid of bad behaviour and ‘create a level playing field’.

Such so-called teachers would surely be better employed flattening some real grass outside on the school playing field, ideally in the pouring rain.

 

So that’s it for ‘B’ – watch out for ‘C is for...’ coming your way soon.

 

Br’er Exit and The Tory Party

As regular readers will readily recall, at this time of year All Change Please! attempts to write a fractured fictional farce based on a well-know literary work, such as last year’s ’Tonight at Morning Break’, and before that ‘Theresa in Wonderland‘, George Osborne’s ‘Twenty Fifty One‘, and of course not forgetting the classic ‘The Gove of Christmas Present‘.

This year’s inspiration is ‘Br’er Rabbit and the Tar Baby’. The Br’er Rabbit folktales originate from Africa, but were popularised in America during the 19th Century. They were compiled and adapted by Joel Chandler Harris in 1881 to represent the struggle in the plantations of the Southern US States. To help capture the negro dialect of the time, and to suggest a lack of education, they were written using a form of non-standard spelling that could still provide the correct pronunciation of each word. For example: “Mawnin’!’ sez Br’er Rabbit, sezee—‘nice wedder dis mawnin’,’ sezee.” ‘Br’er’ is a shortened form of ‘Brother’. At the time this was not seen as being racist but the versions we read as children were further adapted to use more conventional spelling and language to make them more ‘PC’. The stories are narrated by the fictional Uncle Remus.

In Br’er Rabbit and the Tar-Baby, Br’er Fox constructs a doll out of a lump of tar and dresses it with some clothes. When Br’er Rabbit comes along he addresses the Tar-Baby amiably, but receives no response. Br’er Rabbit becomes offended by what he perceives as the Tar-Baby’s lack of manners, punches it, and in doing so becomes stuck. The more Br’er Rabbit punches and kicks the Tar-Baby out of rage, the more he gets stuck. When Br’er Fox reveals himself, the helpless but cunning Br’er Rabbit pleads, “Please, Br’er Fox, don’t fling me in dat brier-patch,” prompting Fox to do exactly that. But as rabbits were born and bred in thickets, the resourceful Br’er Rabbit uses the thorns and briers to escape.

In modern usage a ‘tar-baby’ refers to a problem situation that is only aggravated by additional involvement with it. Now what does that remind you of?

What with the real Brexit being somewhat more complicated, All Change Please!’s decidedly non-PC version has needed to be somewhat more devious in its use of a wider range of Br’er characters. But enough – let’s get on with the story of ‘Br’er Exit and the Tory Party‘, as narrated by Uncle Remus-Mogg

A long long time ago in a plantation far, far away… it is a period of civil war.

Well now, that rascal Br’er Exit hated Br’er EU on account of he was always cutting capers and bossing everyone around. So Br’er Exit decided to get rid of Br’er EU if it was the last thing he ever did! He thought and he thought until he came up with a plan. First he persuaded Br’er Dave to call a referendum. Then he fix up a contrapshun like a red bus, painted it with slogans he had made up and sat it in the middle de road.

Br’er Exit, he lay low in the bushes near the road and waited for the Br’er Voters to come along around the hill, ‘lippity-clippity, clippity-lippity’. Before long, some strolled by, whistling and chuckling to themselves. The Br’er voters soon spotted the cute little red bus and were ‘stonished. The stopped and stared at this strange bus. They had never seen anything like it before!

“Good Mawnin,” said Br’er Voters, doffing their hats. “Nice wedder dis mawnin.”

The bus said nothing, but its slogans were plain to see. Br’er Exit, he lay low.

“Gosh!” sez the Br’er voters – “do we really pay all that money to Br’er EU? Could it really all go to the NHS instead? Are you absolutely sure they make all our laws for us?” The more questions Br’er Voters asked, the more lies they read about how awful Br’er EU was and how they’d be much better off without them. After a while many of the Br’er Voters became Br’er Leavers, while the rest became Br’er Mainers or Br’er Abstainers.

After the Referendum, Br’er Exit celebrated – he had won! Br’er Dave gave up and went to hide in his shed where no-one could find him and Br’er May took over, proclaiming that Br’er Exit meant Br’er Exit, whatever that meant. She and her Tory Party then got firmly stuck in to negotiating the best way to part company from Br’er EU. But of course the more she tried to solve the problem, the more difficult it became, until she finally realised she was trapped in a negotiation that was impossible to escape from.

At that point Br’er Exit leapt out of the bushes and strolled over to the nebulous Br’er May, who was not actually as stupid as she often appeared to be. “Well, well, what have we here?” he asked, grinning an evil grin. “You look sorter stuck up dis mawnin’,’ sezee, en den he rolled on de groun’, en laft en laft twel he couldn’t laff no mo.”

Br’er May gulped. She was stuck fast in the Tory Party and quite unable to move. She did some fast thinking while Br’er Exit rolled about on the road, laughing himself silly over her dilemma.

“I’ve got you this time, Br’er May,” said Br’er Exit, “Now I wonder what I should do with you?”

Br’er May’s eyes got very large. “Oh please Br’er Exit, whatever you do, please don’t make me withdraw Article 50 and start re-negotiating it all over again.”

“Maybe I should make you suffer a Hard Br’er Exit,” mused Br’er Exit. “No, that’s too much trouble sorting out all the food and medical supplies to keep Br’er Voters happy”.

“Have a vote of no confidence in me! Do whatever you please,” said Br’er May “Only please, Br’er Exit, please don’t make me withdraw Article 50 and start re-negotiating it all over again.”

“Or maybe I should make you have a general election?”, said Br’er Exit.

“A Hard Brexit, a vote of no confidence or a general election. Do whatever you please,” said Br’er May. “Only please, Br’er Exit, please don’t make me withdraw Article 50 and start re-negotiating it all over again.”

“Withdraw Article 50 and start trying to renegotiate again, eh?” said Br’er Exit. “What a wonderful idea! You’ll be torn into little pieces by the will of the people!”

So Br’er Exit forced the unfortunate Br’er May to withdraw Article 50 just before it would have been too late to do so, and listened out for her whimpers of pain inflicted by Br’er Voters. But not long after she had done so, Br’er Exit heard someone calling his name. He turned around and looked up the hill. Br’er May was sitting on a log looking smug.

“I was bred and born in Br’er EU, Br’er Exit,” she called. “Born and bred in Br’er EU” I never wanted to leave in the first place! We are far better off staying in the EU. I’ve no intention of re-negotiating! You should have listened more closely to what I said before the referendum took place!”

And Br’er May skipped away as merry as a cricket while Br’er Exit ground his teeth in rage and went home to sulk in his enormous house and gardens in the country, and to pay all the extra taxes he had been hoping to avoid if his plan had worked.

Meanwhile, don’t forget that ‘Br’er Exit and The Tory Party’ is all just a made-up story with a happy ending, and therefore quite unlike the real thing…

 

Let’s ask the Magic 8 Ball

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Yes, as unbelievable as Brexit sounds, today, the 28th October 2017, is All Change Please!s Magical Eighth birthday. And that means it’s time for All Change Please!’s surprisingly regular annual Review of the Year post…

To begin with, regular readers might have noticed that All Change Please! has been a lot less prolific than in previous years: instead of an average of posting once a fortnight, it’s been more like once a month. Except for February, April and May when seemingly absolutely nothing happened to inspire All Change Please! to take pen to paper, or rather finger to keyboard. However the world of education seemed to come back to life a bit more during September and October…

So what were All Change Please!‘s greatest number of hits of 2016-17?

1. The Blunders of Government

Way out ahead in the prestigious Number One ‘Top of the Posts’ spot was the runaway ‘The Blunders of Government’ which featured a dialogue between Sir Humphrey Appleby and a compendium of Education Secretaries from the past 7 years.

2. Theresa in Wonderland

Some way behind was All Change Please!’s Christmas special which identified the close connection between Mrs May and Alice, with Nigel Farage in the role of the Cheshire Cat, and The Queen of Hearts (deftly played by Angela Merkel) boasting that sometimes she believed as many as six impossible things before Brexit.

3. Problem still unsolved….

In which it was revealed that students place little value on creativity and problem-solving, largely because the schools they go to don’t either.

 

But as always, what appeals most to the bloglovin’ public rarely reflects All Change Please!’s own favourites of the year which included:

4. Fun-filled gender-fluid self curated personas at the Df-ingE 

Cool. No problem. Read again?

5. Pass Notes: What is GCSE Irritative Design.

Your cut-out and weep guide to D&T…

 

Meanwhile, All Change Please! got to wondering about who invented the Magic 8 Ball and when, and how it worked – and not for the first time managed to find everything it wanted to know on Wikipedia.

“The Magic 8-Ball is a toy used for fortune-telling or seeking advice, developed in the 1950s and manufactured by Mattel. It is often used in fiction, often for humor related to its giving accurate, inaccurate, or otherwise statistically improbable answers.

An 8-ball was used as a fortune-telling device in the 1940 Three Stooges short, You Nazty Spy!, and called a “magic ball”. While Magic 8-Ball did not exist in its current form until 1950, the functional component was invented by Albert C. Carter, inspired by a spirit writing device used by his mother, Mary, a Cincinnati clairvoyant.

The Magic 8-Ball is a hollow plastic sphere resembling an oversized, black-and-white 8-ball. Inside a cylindrical reservoir contains a white, plastic, icosahedron floating in alcohol dyed dark blue. Each of the die’s 20 faces has an affirmative, negative, or non-committal statement printed in raised letters. These messages are read through a window on the ball’s bottom.

To use the ball, it must be held with the window initially facing down. After “asking the ball” a yes-no question, the user then turns the ball so that the window faces up, setting in motion the liquid and die inside. When the die floats to the top and one face presses against the window, the raised letters displace the blue liquid to reveal the message as white letters on a blue background.

The 20 answers inside a standard Magic 8-Ball are:

It is certain

It is decidedly so

Without a doubt

Yes definitely

You may rely on it

As I see it, yes

Most likely

Outlook good

Yes

Signs point to yes

Reply hazy try again

Ask again later

Better not tell you now

Cannot predict now

Concentrate and ask again

Don’t count on it

My reply is no

My sources say no

Outlook not so good

Very doubtful

All of which leads All Change Please! to the inevitable conclusion that it’s Mrs May’s Magic 8 Ball which undoubtedly forms the basis of current government policy-making and Brexit negotiations…

If you have been…  keep watching this space!

 

 

Image credit:  Flickr/David Bergin

Problem still unsolved

19295893399_3ee40fd48c_o.jpgProblem-solving: the process of finding solutions to difficult or complex issues

The recent news that ‘Just 3 per cent of teenagers believe problem solving skills and creativity are essential attributes to have on their CVs’ is of course no more than a reflection of the lack of emphasis and importance placed on them in our education system. And it goes a long way to explaining why so few politicians and administrators seem quite unable to develop policies and procedures that manage to improve the life of the population. Too many students undertake academic degrees, including subjects like science and engineering, having had next to no experience of the processes and approaches involved in coming up with successful new practical and appropriate ways of doing things.

Where children are exposed to problem-solving and creativity in schools, the experience is usually limited to solving closed problems, where there is a single correct right or wrong answer. Such problems are usually technical in nature, rarely focusing on solving individual or social human problems.

Even in design and technology, where a rapidly diminishing number of students are asked to solve design problems, the understanding of problem-solving skills is given disproportionate emphasis to increasingly acquiring knowledge about materials and production technologies. Few children rise to the challenge of resolving multiple conflicting requirements and coming up with truly creative solutions. And while there is good imaginative work in evidence in many departments of art, drama and music, its value and application is restricted to those lessons and defined studio spaces.

Developing students’ problem-solving and creative abilities is not achieved through a series of disparate activities experienced largely out of context. It involves an extended course of study in which increasingly complex, open-ended and challenging problems are tackled in such a way that the learner starts to identify their own strategies and preferred methodologies for tackling different sorts of problems. This includes being able to deal with problems that require:

• a mixture of creative and logical thinking

• dealing with subjective and objective criteria

• testing and evaluating possible solutions using a variety of modelling techniques

• identifying and understanding human needs and desires

• information finding

• planning over multiple time-scales, collaboration and self-management

• effective communication.

Underlying these skills at a more basic level, successful problem-solving requires a desire to improve the way things are, a sense of curiosity, the drive to explore and develop a multiplicity of possible solutions and willingness to learn from failure.

Until our children start to acquire these skills and they come to be acknowledged in schools and universities as being valuable in life and the workplace it is difficult to be optimistic about our future. We no longer require a steady flow of people to administer and oversee the far-flung corners of our long-lost Empire, but instead a stream of creative problem-solvers to construct our brave new post-Brexit world.

 

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Image credits: Flickr Sacha Chua

 

 

 

 

 

Theresa In Wonderland

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Thankfully, the Festive Season comes but once a year and, as surely as Christmas means Christmas, it’s time for All Change Please! to delve into the world of literature and present its own special pull-out double issue, long-read, twisted, fractured and satirical updated version of a well known classic, such as it has done in years gone by with Twenty Fifty One and The Gove of Christmas Present. So without further ado – look out behind you!  Here’s All Change Please!’s annual political pantomime…

Once upon a time, not so very long ago, it was a warm and sunny July afternoon and Theresa was sitting lazily in the beautiful back garden of the house in her Maidenhead constituency, contentedly admiring her new pair of very expensive summer sandals.

All of a sudden, and much to her surprise, a white rabbit with pink eyes ran by exclaiming ‘Oh my ears and whiskers, how late it’s getting. I’ll never get to be PM’. That’s curious, Theresa thought – That rabbit looks just like Michael Gove. She strode purposefully across the garden just in time to see it pop down a large rabbit hole. Just in front of the hole there was a small sign that read ‘BREXIT’, and pointed towards the hole. In another moment down she went after the rabbit, never once considering how in the world she would ever get out of it again. Suddenly she found herself descending at great speed. As she fell she began to worry that when she reached the bottom she was probably in for a very hard Brexit indeed.

1sw-Alice_drink_me.jpgDown, down, down Theresa fell until she could go no further, when suddenly there was a thump and she found herself in a long, low hall which she recognised as the corridor of Number 10 Downing Street. There she came across a small three-legged table on which there was a bottle marked Blue and Yellow Brexit. I’m certainly not drinking that, she thought, but perhaps if I give it a good shake and mix it up it will turn in to a nice Red, White and Blue Brexit? Or even better, an Amazing Technicolour Dreamcoat Brexit that one day will become a successful West-end musical. What a shame I didn’t study more art in school then I would understand how colour theory works.

***

In the distance Theresa caught a glimpse of what she first assumed to be Larry, the Downing Street cat, sitting at the top of the stairs. As she approached him however, she realised she had been mistaken. This cat had very long claws and a great many teeth.

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‘What’s your name?’ Theresa asked politely.

‘Why, I’m Nigel, the UKIP cat.’

‘Ah!’ said Theresa. ‘Would you tell me please, which way I ought to go from here? What sort of people live about here?

‘In that direction,’ the cat said, ‘lives a Hatter, and in that direction lives a March Hare. Visit either you like: they’re both mad. But at least they are not immigrants.’

‘But I don’t want to go among mad people,’ Theresa remarked.

‘Oh you can’t help that,’ said the cat: ‘We’re all mad here. I’m mad. You’re mad.’

‘How do you know I’m mad?’ said Theresa.

‘You must be,’ said the cat, ‘or you wouldn’t have come here.’

Suddenly the cat vanished and then re-appeared as UKIP Leader several times, finally beginning with the end of the tail and ending with just the grin, which remained some time after the rest of it had gone off in search of America.

***

1s--De_Alice's_Abenteuer_im_Wunderland_Carroll_pic_26.jpgAt the top of the stairs Theresa found herself in front of a door marked ‘Cabinet Room’ How curious she thought, to have a room specifically to keep a cabinet in. She opened the door and entered. At the end of a very large table, the March 31st Hare and the Mad Hatter were having tea: a Dormouse was sitting between them, fast asleep. Theresa couldn’t help noticing the uncanny resemblance that the Mad Hatter had to Boris Johnson, that the March 31st Hare had to David Davies, and that the dormouse had to Philip Hammond.

‘No room! No room!’ they cried out when they saw her coming.

‘There’s plenty of room!’ said Theresa indignantly, and she sat down in the large, important looking chair in the middle, reflecting that this was now indeed a post-truth world. Theresa lifted the pot to pour herself some tea, but the tea dripped out from the bottom onto the cabinet table. Ah!, she thought, at least now I know where all the leaks are coming from.

‘Well,’ said the March 31st Hare. ‘What do you have to say? Say what you mean.’

‘I do,’ Theresa replied hastily. ‘At least I mean what I say – that’s the same thing you know.’

‘It’s not the same thing a bit!’ said the Hare. ‘You just announce policies that come into your head, and a few days later say you never meant them.’

‘So,’ said Theresa, ‘you mean that if I say ‘Brexit means Brexit’ I don’t mean what I say?’

‘Exactly!’ replied the Hare, ‘What you really mean to say is that Brexit means whatever the EU decides it means.

‘That’s curious’, interrupted Boris the Mad Hatter. ‘Whenever I say what I mean, No 10 always says I didn’t mean to say it. Which is a very mean thing of them to say. But enough of this nonsense. Let me ask you a riddle instead. Why is a Grammar School like a White Elephant? Can you guess?’

‘No I give it up,’ Theresa replied. ‘What’s the answer? ‘

‘I haven’t the slightest idea,’ said the Hatter. ‘Well, except that perhaps a white elephant is also something that isn’t worth having but still costs a lot to maintain?’

***

1sJohn.jpgTheresa left the cabinet room, declaring she would never go there again and that it was the stupidest meeting she ever was at in all her life! Just as she said this she noticed a tree with a door leading into it. That’s very curious, she thought, but everything’s curious these days. I think I may as well go in at once. She found herself at the entrance to a garden, and noticed that there were 27 EU leaders all in a bit of a state, dressed as playing cards. She introduced herself to the Queen of Hearts:

 ‘My name is Theresa, so please your Majesty,’ she said very politely, but added, to herself, ‘Why, they’re only a pack of cards, after all. I needn’t be afraid of them!’

After a game of croquet, the Queen of Hearts, whom Theresa couldn’t help but notice bore more than a passing resemblance to Angela Merkel, offered her some bread and jam and a piece of cake. Theresa declined the JAM, saying she could just about manage to afford her new leather trousers perfectly well without it, even though she knew very well that there were many others who couldn’t.

‘You couldn’t have it if you did want it anyway,’ the Queen said. ‘The rule is JAM tomorrow and JAM yesterday but never JAM to-day.’

The Queen then demanded that she played a game with her. Theresa studied the cards in her hand and saw she held the Joker – I’ll have to play my Trump card very carefully, she thought.

Suddenly the Queen shouted out: ‘Now show me your cards!’

‘But if I show you my cards,’ Theresa explained, ‘then you will have a considerable advantage and will easily win the game.’

‘Hmm! I suppose you believe you’re in charge around here?’ said the Queen sarcastically.

‘Well I am the Prime Minister of Wonderland.’ said Theresa, which quite surprised her because up to that moment it hadn’t really occurred to her that indeed she now was. At this the Queen got very annoyed and muttered something about making sure that Teresa might still have her piece of cake, but she certainly wasn’t going to eat it too.

1s-John_Tenniel_-_Illustration_from_The_Nursery_Alice_(1890)_-_c06543_05.jpg‘I’ll tell you something to believe,’ the Queen continued: ‘I have twice been named the world’s second most powerful person, the highest ranking ever achieved by a woman, and the most powerful woman in the world for a record tenth time. I am the longest-serving incumbent head of government in the EU, the senior G7 leader and I’m seeking re-election for a fourth-term.’

‘I can’t believe all that!’ said Theresa.

‘Can’t you?’ the Queen said in a pitying tone. ‘Try again: draw a long breath, and shut your eyes.’

Theresa laughed. ‘There’s no use trying,’ she said: ‘one can’t believe impossible things.’

‘I daresay you haven’t had much practice,’ said the Queen. ‘When I was your age, I always did it for half-an-hour a day. Why, sometimes I’ve believed as many as six impossible things before Brexit.

Then the Queen asked Theresa: ‘Have you seen the Mock-exam Turtle yet?’

‘No,’ said Theresa. ‘I don’t even know what a Mock-exam Turtle is.’

‘Come on, then,’ said the Queen, ‘and he shall tell you his history,’

The Mock-exam Turtle duly told his story and spoke of his education: ‘When we were little we went to school in the sea. The master was an old Turtle—we used to call him Tortoise—’

‘Why did you call him Tortoise, if he wasn’t one?’ Theresa asked.

‘We called him Tortoise because he taught us,’ said the Mock Turtle angrily: ‘really you are very dull!’

‘And how many hours a day did you do lessons?’ said Theresa, in a hurry to change the subject.

‘Ten hours the first day,’ said the Mock Turtle: ‘nine the next, and so on.’

‘What a curious plan!’ exclaimed Theresa.

‘That’s the reason they’re called lessons – because they lessen from day to day.’

***

1s-John_Tenniel_-_Illustration_from_The_Nursery_Alice_(1890)_-_c06544_02.jpgPresently, Theresa found herself attending the trial of the scurrilous Knave of Hearts who was accused of stealing the Arts from schools one summer day and taking them quite away, and who looked suspiciously like Nick Glibbly. Glibbly read out various items of fake-news press-releases claiming that the Arts were still flourishing and GCSE entries had increased, except of course he carefully neglected to mention that the figures he was quoting included AS levels. After Glibbly had presented his evidence the King announced that the jury should consider their verdict.

‘No, no!’ exclaimed the Queen. ‘Let’s write the front page headline of the Daily Mail first – verdict afterwards.’

‘Stuff and nonsense,’ said Theresa loudly. ‘The very idea of it. You can’t have the sentence before the verdict.’

‘Hold your tongue,’ said the Queen turning a shade of UKIP purple.

‘I won’t!’ said Theresa defiantly. But at this the Queen completely lost her temper.

‘Off with her shoes!’ she shouted furiously at the top of her voice.

But Theresa found the thought of losing her shoes so traumatic that it bought her to her senses with a jolt, and she suddenly found herself back in the garden, where her strange adventure had begun. She immediately looked down and to her great relief found her shoes were still firmly attached to her feet.

‘Ah! there you are Theresa dear!’ said her husband. ‘Why, what a long time you’ve been away!’

‘Oh, I’ve had such a curious dream!’ said Theresa. ‘I had begun to think that very few things indeed were really impossible. Would you believe I dreamt I was Prime Minister of Wonderland?’

‘But my dear!’, said Philip kindly. ‘Don’t you remember? You are the Prime Minister of Wonderland…’

***

Christmas Day Quiz Question. How well do you know your Lewis Caroll? All the quotations and references above were based on text taken from ‘Alice in Wonderland’, except for two which were from ‘Through The Looking Glass’. But which were they?

***

With thanks to Lewis Caroll. Illustrations by Tenniel/Wikimedia

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7-Up + 300

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“Give me a child until he is seven and I will give you the man”

It’s astonishing to think that back in the Autumn of 2009 – around the time that All Change Please!’s first post was published – a child starting secondary school in Year 7 will now have completed their A levels and be either commencing a degree course – or of course, more like All Change Please!, becoming another Not in Employment, Education or Training statistic.

Yes, it’s exactly seven years since All Change Please! published its very first post, and as usual it decides to nostalgically wallow in its archives from the past twelve months to visit some of its most read and best loved words of so-called wisdom.

But before it does so, there is another cause for celebration, because by delightful coincidence this is also All Change Please!’s 300th post.

This year’s Top 3 most read posts were:

1. Pass Notes: Art Attack! 

In which it is revealed that both less and fewer pupils are now taking GCSE subjects in The Arts, despite Nick Glibb claiming otherwise before being finally proved wrong by the 2016 entry figures.

2. Little Miss Morgan

In which it is suggested that Nicky Morgan didn’t really care what she was saying at the NASUWT Party Conference because she knew she’s be in a proper cabinet job by September, except that now we know it didn’t work out quite like that.

3. No Minister! No, No, No.

In which a passionate appeal is made by means of the Df-ingE consultation for it to abandon its intentions that 90% of pupils should take the EBacc to GCSE, even though the results of the consultation have never been made public.

Meanwhile All Change Please!‘s personal favourite Top 3 were:

1. Curriculum Noir 3 

In which Wilshaw asks Marlowe for help after he realises he’s made an enormous mistake backing the EBacc, despite the fact that there’s not a shred of evidence to back up the Df-ingE’s ideology.

2. What a Wonderful World

In which we learn all about the brave new world of Fantasy Politics in which politicians make up any old stuff that comes to mind – something that All Change Please! has been successfully getting away with for years.

3. Twenty Fifty One

In which we revisit George Orwell’s classic story 1984, and realise it’s just that we haven’t got there yet – despite the fact that we’ve since taken back control and given it all to just one person who thinks she can run the country on her own. Big Sister Is Watching You…

“Give me a blog until it is seven and I will give you the Pulitzer Prize for Journalism (or not)”

Let’s try a different kind of 7up instead…

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 7up image credit: Flickr/Kevin Dooley

A State of Atrophy

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On the basis that good design is so simples that children can do it and so there’s no need to employ experienced professionals, the Queen has launched a competition for teenagers to design a trophy for a valuable engineering prize.

Meanwhile it is believed that to save money the Government are also considering launching various competitions for teenagers with big boxes of LEGO prizes for the winners, including unpaid cabinet internships (except for winners from Scotland). Design Challenges include:

  • A Powerpoint presentation of a completely new economic model for post-Brexit Britain.
  • A poster featuring a highly memorable slogan that will fully persuade Remoaners that the future is going to be wonderful.
  • A new education system that will prepare children for mass unemployment from 2020 onwards.
  • Innovative NHS resources made from old cereal packets and sticky-backed plastic
  • An attractive and environmentally sensitive 3 metre high barrier to separate Britain from Scotland, to be known as Sturgeons Wall.
  • Portable survival shelters for all foreigners currently living in the UK.
  • A cheaper alternative to Marmite.

In reality of course, All Change Please! has no doubt that a group of teenagers – the ones that will inherit the current mess – would probably come up with far better solutions to these latter challenges than the so-called adults in charge at present.

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Meanwhile in other news, Wikipedia politely describes the advent of ‘F*ck Me‘ Shoes as “a derisive slang term for women’s high-heeled shoes that exaggerate a sexual image. The term can be applied to any women’s shoes that are worn with the intention of arousing others.”

At the recent Tory Party Conference however, Maggie May – well known for her enthusiasm for new shoes – kicked off her speech by walking on stage wearing a new exaggerated style of footwear. These were an aggressive pair of extremely hard steel-capped boots, to be known in the future as ‘F*ck You’ shoes and worn with the sole intention of intimidating others.

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And finally, in some Breaking News, former accountant and All Change Please! favourite Nick Glibbly is in the running for a Nobel Trophy for mathematics after today announcing the results of his years of research at the Df-ingE that have let him to the startling and unexpected conclusion that “We need to recruit sufficient numbers of teachers to match the increasing number of pupils.

What A Wonderful World

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During the week Miss Piggy (aka Justine Greening), Secretary in a State about Education made a speech to the Muppet Party Conference in Birmingham. All Change Please! is pleased to exclusively publish the full auto-cue text of what she said:

“Our Prime Minister set out our Party’s mission….

….to make our country one that works for no-one, except the privileged few.

To give people no control over the things that matter most in their lives.

And education is at the heart of our ambition. It’s how we make Britain a true mediocracy.

My job – our job now – is to make sure that today’s children, whatever their background, fail to get the best start.

And to me, that means three things:

Knowledge and skills…

The right advice at the right time…

Thirdly, great, challenging, life shaping experiences…

That’s actually four things.

But never mind.

 

That is why we now plan to turn all schools into Grammar Schools.

As a result, by 2020, all children will achieve 10 A* GCSEs.

Yes, and in 2022 every student in the country will gain a place at a prestigious Russell Group University.

At the same time we will also embark on an ambitious programme of building new Victorian style school buildings, with traditional classrooms and desks.

We will recruit thousands of highly academically qualified and experienced new teachers, all from the UK.

We will pay for all children to have proper, absolutely identical school uniforms.

School playing fields will be doubled in size.

And they will all be levelled,

so no-one will be socially excluded.

 

I can also announce that as a result of our policies, in future

children will no longer suffer from any mental health issues.

Bullying in schools will be a thing of the past.

Pupils will no longer want to use their mobile phones in schools.

And they will demand to eat only healthy school meals.

 

But best of all

as everyone will be so clever

it won’t be necessary any more

for me to talk

in these short

sound-bite phrases

so that readers of the

Daily Mail

and The Sun

will be able

to easily

understand them.

 

In the past, Muppet Party Policy

was all based on The Politics of Fear.

Every day we made it sound

as if everything today was getting worse and worse

and that things were much better in the past.

That was so that you would keep voting for us

and we would be in Power.

Forever.

And Ever.

As we now are.

 

We used to be known as the Nasty Party.

But that’s all changed.

Now we are the Nice Party.

And as a result of Brexit

the future is going to be wonderful.

Everything will be perfect.

Our new approach is called The Politics of Fantasy.

We just make things up that sound good.

Even though we’ve absolutely no idea

how to make them happen.

Or have any evidence that they might work.

 

I see passports of blue and cliffs of white

The bright blessed sight of the dark sacred right.

And I think to myself

what a wonderful world.

I hear babies cry, I watch them grow

They’ll learn much more than I’ll never know

Yes I think to myself

What A Wonderful World.

 

Thank you.”

 

Lyric Credits: Wonderful world