Life lessons in schools shouldn’t stop at stand-up comedy
What prepares young people better for adult life: home economics or being hilarious? Sheffield High School for Girls is set on the latter, judging by the introduction of stand-up comedy to their curriculum. This won’t encourage pupils to clown around, the school says, but rather help them to hone key skills such as dealing with naysayers and boosting confidence; two things they will need on performing their routines to fellow students come the end of their eight-week course.
A headteacher administering the funnies might seem like an unusual update to a school’s roster, but it will likely provide a more practical takeaway than many lessons currently on offer. Here are some other things schools should consider teaching:
Mastering a put-down
Sadly, there are occasions where a welltimed “nincompoop” will not do, and executing a snappy rejoinder is trickier than it may seem. David Cameron’s autobiography For the Record, also known as Why Everyone Except Me is to Blame For Brexit, does have one such gem lurking in its 700 pages. Recounting Cabinet shifts, he recalls how MPS Theresa Villiers and Chris Grayling took on “lesser appointments with good grace and worked to prove themselves in their new roles. Theresa later made an excellent Northern Ireland secretary, and Chris served as lord chancellor.” Ouch. Less aurally pleasing than “failing Grayling”, but nicely done.
Self-checkout rage management “There. Is. No. Unknown. Item. In. The. Bagging. Area. THERE. IS. NO. UNKNOWN. ITEM. IN. THE. BAGGING. AREA. IT. IS KNOWN. I. PUT. IT. THERE.” It makes the checkout at Aldi, where cashiers throw the goods from the conveyor belt to your face at record speed, feel like some kind of spa.
Appropriate fancy dressing
A minefield, as Justin Trudeau’s Aladdin costume (and Jamaican folk singer garb, plus further blacking up incidents he “can’t remember”…) highlights. Any outfit featuring the word “sexy” in front of a profession/ famous character is generally best avoided, as is depicting news events via the medium of homemade fancy dress. You might think it’s a way to show off your current affairs knowledge, but going viral on account of a “sexy Ebola hazmat suit” is not worth the hassle.
Language 2.0
Out with Beowulf, in with Brexit terminology. Prorogation, BRINO, backstops and, while we’re here, Love Island lingo, too. It’s dispiriting, but it’s also adapt or die. Or refuse to participate in conversations about either topic, which seems a fair solution.
Cooking for nutrichondriacs Recipes for the guests who “can’t” eat meat/ gluten/dairy/sugar/air are required as a matter of urgency.
Changing provider Send an email explaining you need to terminate your electricity/ phone/television contract. Receive an autoreply saying this can’t be done via message. Ring up. Listen to the same hold music for so long you begin humming it under your breath while gently rocking back and forth. Get transferred between so many departments you begin to resemble Father Time. Get disconnected and decide there is now too little of your life left to waste on calling back. Later receive a text asking how you would rate the service you received today, at which point you smash your phone into 8,000 pieces. Realise this means you now need to call your insurance provider on account of the “accidental” damage incurred, and begin the process again.
Whoever can successfully manage contracts with companies while a) not wasting half a millennium and b) achieving the desired result, deserves to be prime minister.
As stories go, this one surely has it all: a heist, millions of pounds at stake and a manhunt. All to recover the most burnished throne of all – a golden toilet. Is that the sound of a hundred Hollywood scriptwriters rubbing their hands with glee?
The theft of America, an 18-carat gold lavatory designed by Italian conceptual artist Maurizio Cattelan, has caused significant plumbing problems since it was wrenched from Blenheim Palace last Saturday; the fully functional piece had been installed for visitors’ use. If you consider Andrex the height of bathroom luxury, spending a penny on a £4.8 million seat must be truly transcendent.
Cattelan hopes to find out, asking that the bog-snatchers reveal “how it feels to pee on gold” and describing those who have captured his creation as “great performers”. The artist insists that Loogate is not a prank. But it does feel a bit like when that Banksy painting got shredded at Sotheby’s after the gavel slammed down on a £1million bid – a stunt which its seller later explained was part of the work, and not just pointless and annoying.
Silicon Valley remains the playground for the badly dressed and bonkers, a reputation well maintained by Wework which, insulted by the idea that it is “just” an office space rental company, provides free plonk and runs festivals at which founder Adam Neumann, whose wife is Gwyneth Paltrow’s cousin, is the headline act. An unusual choice, given his affection for music. A report this week recalled a 2016 incident where, after firing a lot of staff, Neumann held a company-wide meeting explaining that the decision was down to costs. At which point employees carrying tequila shots filled the room, followed by Darryl Mcdaniels, of hip-hop outfit RUN-DMC, who played a DJ set, including the song It’s Tricky, to those who had kept their jobs.
Employees said the event left them “stunned and confused” – an apt verdict on the situation, Neumann’s Wework empire, and the entire startup machine.