Tony (Blair), is on a mission. To leave an legacy, desired only by himself and the numerous faceless spinning cronies which adore his private ideology.


Just listen to the bullshit they peddle. Listen to the subtle changes in the language. Pupils are no longer pupils. Ah young adults perhaps? No. simply children? No. deferred graduates? That’s more like it, but no. they are consumers. And so are the parents.


Perhaps the children are just numbers, consumables and commodities to fill the blanks in dazzling excel documents. We know children are consumers (or future consumers as advertisers tell us) in the marketplace. And they consume far too much of everything (except perhaps fresh air and common sense), but at school they’re people waiting to develop. Yes people. No amount of statistical data about their targets, grades, IQ or anything else is going to change that. People. With feelings, perspective, thoughts, emotions, creativity, identity. With so much to give. So much to happen to them. Made to compete. Compete in narrow areas defined by the shadow of businessman who lean out of sight on every Westminster corridor. All of which reminds us of what are government really thinks we are living for. Squeezing out the artists, the writers, the musicians, the individuals who dared not to believe in the miracles of clone driven consumerism. They never give children time to think. The intellectual space to challenge. The tools to learn for themselves. It’s force fed from the age of 5 with a hand in the back. Hurry now children, hurry. There’s more you haven’t learnt. Better make the target. And the next. Is this living? Is this true development? Is this enjoyable? Are these people? Or just machines to programme to run a society devised in the twixt nightmares of Huxley and Orwell. The melodrama is thick here because it serves as a warning to stop this now.

Let’s all stop. Drop your phones, your ipods, you computers, your satellite tv. Put away the drink, leave the pub, look up from your glossy magazines on glossy people and glossy things. Look up. Talk to your neighbour. To your family. To your vicar, priest, imam, rabbi. Your bus driver, your friends. Your MP. Find out how your country works and why it is being changed. Take up the fight to make this a democracy where you have a say in the things that affect you the most. Don’t be disaffected. Nor apathetic. Your misery, your uneasiness will not leave your side. Make the country yours. Make it run by people for people. Does this through asking people in every job, every service, how they think it could be made better. Do it through common sense and not lists and targets outlined in bold and surrounded by a mass of buzzwords and synergistic glass ceilings waiting to be smashed. Everyone has a voice. Make it heard. Once something has gone, it may never come back. And for once in our lives we can not make the mistake of only fully appreciating something when it is lost to us. Look at our planet, the splendour of nature, the beauty of different lands. Imagine losing this. Imagine your children’s place in this. Imagine. If we win the fight against apathy. For democracy. We can change this country. Make it fair to us, to each other, to nature. To the world. And no one need lose out. And when we do this we’ll realise we have taken back life. We’ll own our lives and try telling me of a greater feeling. That’s true freedom.