current affairs

Dear Mr Gove, here’s what you can do with the new Royal Yacht

Dear Mr Gove,

While I won’t question your sanity, I will most certainly question your ability to act as the Secretary of State for Education.

Dear Mr Gove,

While I won’t question your sanity, I will most certainly question your ability to act as the Secretary of State for Education.

The leaked letter documenting your wishes, proposing the use of public money to purchase Her Majesty the Queen a rather large boat categorically reflects a man all at sea. No matter how I try to fathom it, I find myself in somewhat of a twisted knot; and now I must apologise, for my nautically themed beginning to this letter has worn thin already. 

But, I shall continue my questioning; questioning of a man who appears to have a diluted sense of purpose in all things other than 60 million pounds worth of vessel. You have I suppose, what can only be described as an unequivocal thirst for Royal approval, indeed, from the snippets of the letter I have read – I would go so far as to suggest desperation. 

Sir Michael Gove? Knighted in 2029 for services to our country? I do hope not. It is of dire consequence to you of course, that your inner most feelings have been thrown about the place like a hunted fox. And I find myself pondering on the matter at hand, in sheer disgust, at your disillusioned madness and your overtly patriotic pathway to destruction. 

Well, fair play to your friend Mr Cameron, and your colleague Mr Clegg, who, while acting questionably at times, have managed to wash-out your irrefutable claims while prospecting far more robust and reasonable buying methods. At least they offer some source of reason, and display a slice of understanding as regards these dismal times. You on the other hand, apparently, do not. Let me put it in perspective for you: I have to shop at Aldi, Mr Gove. Have you heard of Aldi? I don’t expect you have. 

Yeah, well, it’s a supermarket that shamefully doesn’t have good hummus. Quite nice pitta bread though – that’s called irony. Anyway, while they may see the horizon in a quite possibly realistic light, the calamitous fact remains: you, Michael Gove, sat upon your chair and wrote words of veridical ill. 

How a man with an education such as yours, and a man in charge of the education of so many, can begin to conceive an idea so turbulent is beyond me.  

What gave you the idea? What caused your brain to delve into its recesses and pluck such a medieval notion – one that sent waves of anguish across our land? Suggesting that the general public in its entirety would support such a scheme, to fund a boat costing almost as much as Cristiano Ronaldo does? It’s pure and unrivalled idiocy. 

Apologetically so, I do confess a longing for your departure. Though, unfortunately, I doubt your position is in question; it’s not as if you’ve anointed yourself as the renegade of all things bountiful, or you’ve supported hard cuts in the learning of your land, and then mused to use tax payer’s money to surplus romantic desires for a meaningful act of remembrance. Something everybody can relate to of course. Yeah, I can as well. I’ve gone on the ferry from Dover to Calais like four times. 

As much as the sufferance of your people depends on a day of happiness, watching them dance and rejoice and bathe in golden glory, you need to learn. And being in charge of education, I suggest you educate yourself. What’s that? A day of celebration and national community does not displace a time of unemployment, cuts and resentment. Well done Mr Gove, A* for effort. 

If, and of course I doubt it to be so, the Government has 60 million at its disposal, why not spend it on something worthwhile and befitting of your duties. Divide it: give a million to the Queen, perhaps get her a jubilee jet ski or something, and then spend the 59 that’s left on grants for those who are caught in the middle of the university trap. You know, you must be aware of those people? The ones that don’t get low income family grants but whose parents can’t quite afford to buy them a flat? 

I thought you’d be aware of those in such a predicament. They were in London quite recently, you might have seen them milling about the place with placards and fire extinguishers. 

Oh all right, that’s all in the past isn’t it, and I want to end on a note of nicety really: I salute your loyalty at least. You know, I want to enjoy the jubilee as much as the next person, it’s marvellous, truly, the prospect of the Diamond Jubilee celebrations and to commemorate the Queen’s reign. I particularly like the buffets, the wine and the colourful flags waving majestically in the breeze. 

But please don’t spark such mindless profanity again. Let Abramovich buy it, not us. We’ve got hummus to account for.