Father collects son's A level certificates this morning
Grumble grumble gripe gripe. Tiresome old hooligan laments drop in educational standards. Blah blah it was never like this in my day blah.
(It actually was sort of like this in my day, I should add.)
So, yeah, it's another RECORD YAER!!!!1!
We've got a new A* grade, to mark out the very highest achievement. Which has been awarded to 8% of all entries. Look at the stars! See how they shine for you! And [8% of] everything you do!
Thing is, next year, that 8% will be 11%. Then 14%. Then 17%. Then – oh, looksie! – it's just like the A was, last year.
And I don't really care, to be honest.
Except I pity two groups of people.
The first group is the committee that, in ten years time, has to dream up the new grade to mark out the very highest achievement. Will it be the A*+? Or maybe the A*!? Or should we branch out into whole new typographic level and introduce the A§?
The second group is the first year's upper sixth (should this group ever actually materialise) that doesn't secure RECORD-BREAKING RESLUTS!!!1!
The first year that actually gets fewer A§s than the previous one.
That year will shoulder the collective guilt and self-loathing that goes with breaking the pattern of decades of CONTUNIOUS RECORD-BRAKEING!!1!!!
That year will slide into collective despondency. They will have failed to break the record that MUST ALWAYS BE BROKEN.
And so they will be broken.
Like quails eggs in a blender.