Programmes I presumed I had hallucinated when I saw them on my Freeview menu (an occasional series)

Vic Reeves Investigates… Jack The Ripper.

Years ago, when frowning autocue-monkey Dermot Murnahurnaghan first branched out from football scores with his first crime investigation show, a friend suggested that, should his counterpart Rob Bonnet do the same, the show should be called “Bonnet’s On It”. In the same vein, some fool at Sky has missed the opportunity to nail the title “Reeves Believes”.

(You might like to know that Vic concluded it was probably the American Francis Tumblety.)

(no subject)

It’s a perennial source of bother for liberal-minded people, an open-and-shut case for those less so: should breeding rights continue to be granted to the dysfunctional, the hopelessly dumb or even just the catastrophically misguided? My own feeling is that any answer other than “yes” leads inevitably to experiments in vileness that we would do better to avoid—but that such families need to be strictly policed. Certainly at the first sign of the parents being ill enough to harm their child there should be no qualms about stepping in. We may never be able to stop parents bestowing the gift of neurosis, but we could probably do a better job of making sure they don’t, for example, kill their own children.

I’ll understand if you don’t want to read those stories. In truth, even if you don’t know these particular cases, you’ve pretty much already read them. The formula doesn’t change. Crucial signs overlooked, legitimate concerns dismissed, agencies not sharing information, we must learn lessons from the review, this must never happen again, that’s when I start promising the world to a brand new girl I don’t even know yet, next thing she’s wearing my… Sorry, I had my iPod on, what were you saying?

The real kicker in the more recent case is that it happened in Haringey. Haringey, where Victoria Climbié lived and died. You’d think someone there might have been taking notes. There’s a clue to the problem in that case, though, in this story regarding the social worker who failed to detect at the time that Victoria was being tortured. (Hint: she’s fucking insane.)

Now, I’m not suggesting that social services need to be encouraged to remove more children. I’m suggesting that, especially since under our system they cannot be contradicted, they need to show some sign of being able to spot cases where children are not at risk and where they are. That should, after all, be somewhere in the job description. I’m not going to go into all the horror stories I know for a fact—of dozy social workers who miss vital clues of abuse, of overzealous social workers who cry “abuse” where there is none, of malevolent idiot social workers who enjoy playing God and do immeasurable damage in the process—and those that have been reported elsewhere; I’ll leave it that the absolute best an old friend of mine who was allocated a social worker in her youth could say about her was a damning “She meant so well”.

Probably not every youth social worker is a danger to the kids whose welfare they are charged with overseeing. (Though I wouldn’t mind seeing the figures.)^[1] But there is a big enough problem, no matter how many “lessons learned” reviews they seem to have, that a change is definitely required.

Whenever I rail about this, people always point out defensively that social workers have incredibly difficult judgments to make. I entirely agree. That’s why we need people who are measurably better at making incredibly difficult judgments. Retire the current crop apart from a few select exceptions, triple the wages to make what is quite a shitty job more attractive, hire twice as many of them, make the qualifications harder and make skill the overriding factor in the job, rather than meaning terribly well. (And don’t forget that the assumption that they mean terribly well is the best-case scenario.)

But at a time when it’s becoming ever easier to qualify as a social worker—and, incidentally, you can become a nurse with just an NVQ—my suggestion is pure science fiction. So if, say, you’ve got some demons to cast out of your wicked slutty two year-old, go ahead and do what you have to. No-one’s going to stop you.


^[1] There’s always this report on CAFCASS, which should give some indication. “Serious failings”, records of interviews “illegible” where they existed at all—and this was the third report, from a different region each time, that said so.<sup>[2]

[2]</sup> I’d link to the report itself rather than the Times article but the Ofsted site is government-run and so, predictably, they can’t work the internet. The words “Read the report” aren’t a hyperlink, merely a peremptory instruction.

(no subject)

To: webofevil

Hi! I found you on the Internet and I would be very happy if we know each other better, as you see it? I write to you and hope that you will turn its attention to me, I am very good girl and very care tenderly, I hope that I ponravlyus you. I just think that we can move on to “you”? I will await your response.

It’s kind of disappointing that I already know “ponravlyus” means “please” in Russian. It denies me seconds of amused speculation.

(no subject)

I’ve been soliciting suggestions for a collective noun for bishops. So far we have:

a huddle
a sanctimone
a corsage
a rodomontade
a nuisance
a coffee-morning
a cascade
a flounce

Any more?