The OFSTED row rumbles on and like most situations involving the public sector, with insufficient information for simple souls like us to make a judgment.   Factually, it appears that two Christian free schools have been downgraded, in part for failing to promote diversity.  Surely schools should be measured mostly on their educational achievements.  Asking ten year olds about lesbianism, gay friends of their family and Islam, must inevitably produce confused answers.  To mistake confusion for discrimination takes a very odd mind set.  The head of OFSTED is due to face a Commons Committee this week to spout his platitudes – a pointless exercise. I can’t help thinking that many of the parents from the schools involved would like to sit across a table from the inspectors involved.  That discussion would make interesting television.  While making that comment tongue in cheek, these inspectors should be made to account for themselves to those most affected by their inspection, namely the parents.

    Well, it happened exactly as forecast. Syriza swept to power in Greece, a hairsbreadth from achieving a total majority.  If politicians needed a reminder of people power, this must be the best example for many a year.  The media are shouting about the threat to the euro, but the greatest threat is to Syriza leader, Alexis Tsipras.  Last week he could promise Greek people the earth, this week he has to put his money where his mouth has been.  Isn’t it odd how these old sayings sometimes ring with startling accuracy!  Most economists were clear in their analysis that Greece never met the requirements to be accepted into the euro.  Time simply proved them accurate.  Now comes the crunch.  Tsipras can ignore most of the EU member countries, but he’ll have to go head to head with Angela Merkel, not known for rapid changes of policy and with the German people watching closely.  The most likely result will be fudge, a form of words, an extension of payment that outlives all the protagonists, a solution that no-one understands, face saving politics.  We’re not sure the Greek people will buy that.  If they don’t, Tsipras will fade into the mists of “do you remember?”  The real disaster for the EU will come if Greece leaves the EU, returns to the drachma and thrives in the medium term.  If they prove that there is life after the EU it wouldn’t be a fatal blow, but it could be the first serious wound.

    Support for the Green party has soared in recent weeks according to the pollsters.  I wonder if it will change now Party Leader, Natalie Bennett has published their manifesto.  Zero or negative economic growth to help the planet, gradual abolition of border controls, more support for asylum seekers; I won’t go on.  She makes Russell Brand’s view of politics seem rational and The Monster Raving Looney Party positively attractive.  Still, she’s Australian born and if ever her party got chance to implement their manifesto, she could leave the wreckage of England and head for home.

    Scanning the Sundays and Heather Mills has surfaced.  Pilloried after her divorce from Paul McCartney she seems to have rebuilt her life and will shortly be back on television in the channel 4 show The Jump.  The pictures show that she’s in great shape.  Not only that but she must have balls of steel to do those jumps.  While wishing her well, I couldn’t fail to recall a limerick I put together during her time with Paul. 

                                    They lay upon a grassy bank,

                                    His hands were all aquiver,

                                    He slowly undid her suspender belt,

                                    And her leg fell in the river.

I’ve only included verse 1 – remainder by request!

    Good news in the media generally comes as a surprise and we raised a glass a couple of days ago at the news that Pauline Cafferkey had recovered from ebola and was heading home - one brave lady. She put her recovery down to hi-tech drugs and Irn-Bru.  A few deep fried Mars bars and she’ll be fighting fit again.  

     The fashion for manufacturing strange children’s names has been with us since the flower power days of the Sixties. Yesterday was a first for me. A large, tattooed young woman pushing a twin pushchair with two clearly unhappy children suddenly screamed, “shut up arseface.”  I didn’t like to ask the other child’s name.