Saturday Supplement

How wonderful for you all, a gift of genius from your Guru. A blog.

Dreams are an insight into the world we wished we lived, so I would like to be brave this morning and share with you last nights nocturnal visitation from the land beyond beyond. I will expose myself and am prepared for the shock this might cause.

In my dream I was a famous detective, so famous that I didn't have a name, I was simply known as 'the Detective'.

I was called in by a wealthy lady to investigate the crippling of her favourite horse - the lady was large bosomed and spoke with a plum in her mouth. I asked her to remove the plum and it soon became clear that this made her easier to understand.

She explained that she had left the horse watching television (re-runs of Steptoe and Son as the horse was a distant relative of Old Ned) but upon her return from Waitrose, she found the horse in agony on the floor clutching one of his ankles. The horse had told her that "he did it" before slipping into a coma.

Sadly he couldn't point out the culprit as he was holding his ankles with all his free hooves and it took all his energy to speak.

So, there was I, the Detective, with my faithful sidekick called Marianne.

On investigating the scene, I noticed that near the chair where the horse had been sitting was a small table on which was a hay sandwich and a bottle of chablis, cold and running with condensation. The sandwich had not been touched and the bottle was full - there was no sign of a glass. Then I spotted a broken glass laying just inside the door of the rather spacious lounge.

Near the broken glass, looking like it had been casually discarded, was a large silk cushion on which was stitched a scene of pheasants fleeing a gun dog.

I then returned to the chair and noticed a few dog hairs on a cushion.

I said to the lady - "where is your dog?"

"How do you know I have a dog?" she replied.

"Elementary my dear lady - I saw it when we came in earlier".

The dog was summoned, it entered very sheepishly, making little baa-ing noises. He also had a black eye.

I then gathered everyone around and explained what had happened.

The horse, left watching television, had decided to have a snack and so went to the kitchen to make a hay sandwich and get the chablis from the fridge. Upon returning to the lounge he had found the dog sat in his chair and had given him a good telling off and a punch in the eye for good measure. The horse had settled down and then realised he had left his glass in the kitchen.

The horse left to fetch the glass and the wounded dog seized his chance. He carefully positioned the cushion just inside the door and when the horse returned he slipped on the cushion and injured his ankle. It was all so clear - mystery solved.

The lady rewarded me with £1 million Euros, the dog went to prison, Marianne released a record and the horse sadly died and was turned into dog food, which was then sent to the prison where his attacker was detained.

The dream closes with the dog laughing uncontrollably and pointing at the dinner plate.


This dream is very telling, it shows the great intellect and insight that I possess as well as showing that I have a way with animals.

I think it also shows that cauliflower cheese and prosecco before bed is a bad idea.

Have a nice day and sweet dreams for tonight.

Special Educational Needs

Special Educational Needs - and I can already hear the collective sharp intake of breath - what will he say? How outrageous will he be?

Worry not my lambs, the Guru has some serious stuff to lay on you this sabbath.

I first became aware that not all children were as bright and outgoing as myself when I attended Gedney Hill C of E Infants. Yes, I was precocious, although there were some who thought I could not count very well and all based upon one silly incident.

I was playing the part of a reindeer in the christmas play, my self and some other children had to run around the stage twice and then off into the wings - I decided to go around three times, the last time on my own, not because I couldn’t count but because I was a star, and I needed to let my audience see that.

Anyway, I think one of those other reindeer was a boy called Clifford - I have mentioned him before. He was the boy who fell asleep a lot and always shit himself when he woke up - I think that qualifies as a special educational need.

Clifford was ‘slow’ or ‘touched’ - boys are not touched these days other than by catholic priests (sorry too easy a target) - anyway whilst he was asleep the rest of us scratched stories on our little slates using a piece of broken glass. We didn’t have specific Special Needs teachers, we had three teachers in the whole school and so they had to be aware of those needs that individuals had - I don’t think they always coped well with this.

I think there were many who were dyslexic but who were dismissed as thick, and I think there were some who would now be diagnosed as autistic who were just thought awkward and troublesome.

Thank goodness we have moved on from those days when children with these issues ended up in either prison or some sort of institution. Wait a minute...in hindsight we haven't come that far really.

OK, we don’t lock them out of sight in mental homes anymore, the feeble minded are allowed to lead life as best they can, they become useful members of the community, look at MP’s for example. In fact some of the feeblest minds are to be found in education itself.

Yes, we have numerous professionals who are supposedly looking out for the best interests of those with special needs but having seen a little of this world from close quarters, I can reveal that some Special Needs teachers are in fact a waste of skin and breath.

Some of them, in so called specialist teams, are merely padding their retirement pensions by pretending to give a toss about the young people in their care. In fact there are some who refuse to see the value in their own role and just pocket the money whilst patting themselves on the back and telling the world what a good job they do helping these poor needy children.

Shoot the buggers, that’s what I would do!

Mrs B worked in the field of Special Educational Needs, her desire was always to provide a totally unique learning experience that embraced the ability of the child whilst recognizing their extra needs. It wasn't rocket science, if you work in this way you gave the young person self esteem and a chance to make a place in the world for themselves.

This is why I am worried about funding cuts to this area of education. If you take away this early and tailored intervention for those with special needs you are merely condemning them to a life where they will not reach their full potential.

Think on Clegamoron.

Perhaps they would prefer we just hide them away in a home again, perhaps we should test IQ at birth and anyone under 140 should be put in a sack and hit with a shovel. Not sure how you would test a babies IQ, perhaps we should test the parents IQ and hit them with a shovel before they conceive.

Among this diatribe I hope you spotted a real concern for those who are less fortunate than myself - some of you in my flock may have secretly been hiding your own battles with educational needs. Your autism or dyspraxia or dyslexia impacting on your day to day life -  of course if you have dyslexia you probably won’t be reading this aynawy, but I’m still here and I know in your hearts although the words can’t get through the jumble of emotions and cotton wool in between your ears, you know you are still the lucky few. You know you have me and that I will always be aware of your special needs, educational or not.

Go out into the world my children, go and spread the word that we want all young people to have a chance at life, do it for Clifford, do it for all those shitty pants he had to survive all those years ago.


I shall return in two weeks time,the subject of my sermon will be announced in due course but whatever the topic you know that I will deliver unto you words of great wisdom.