Yesterday, I blogged an Observer piece highlighting some of the unanswered questions surrounding the Stockwell shooting. Today, I’m blogging a Guardian report highlighting new leaks from the report into the shooting – leaks which appear to raise yet more questions about the shooting.

Following the police murder, I claimed that

basic story is that a man under surveillance following the attacks refused to follow police orders, and so was shot five times at close range.

It now emerges that the man was not under formal surveillance, as no-one had bothered to identify him properly. He didn’t refuse to follow police orders, because he wasn’t given any. And he wasn’t shot five times at close range, he was pinned down and shot seven times at point-blank range.

And whilst I still think

We can’t go killing every Asian man in a big coat who doesn’t do as police ask.

It turns out he wasn’t even wearing a big coat, but a rather light and fetching denim number.

One of my many theories is beginning to look frighteningly close to the truth:

To my mind, it sounds like a policeman rather lost it, and shot the man five times in some kind of rage.

Steps must be taken to ensure that such a mistake is never, ever, made again – and if that means laws must change to make it harder for police to kill, then change they must. Someone somewhere once said that every time the police wrongly arrest someone, we lose a little piece of our freedom. How much, then, did we lose on 22nd July 2005?

Last Sunday’s Observer had an interesting piece highlighting some of the yet-to-be-answered questions about the Stockwell shooting, and correcting a number of the initial misconceptions (thanks to Corin for the link):

He wasn’t wearing a heavy jacket. He used his card to get into the station. He didn’t vault the barrier. And now police say there are no CCTV pictures to reveal the truth. So why did plainclothes officers shoot young Jean Charles de Menezes seven times in the head, thinking he posed a terror threat?

It’s worth reading, and the questions urgently need answering.

This week, as ever, there’s the annual debate on whether A-Levels are getting easier. It’s interesting to see that of the seven people interviewed by the Guardian, only the one outside of the education system says they are getting easier. So that’s an interesting observation.

Every time I read a story like this, it puts in mind a Guardian comment piece from last summer, which I have stuck on my wall. It surprises me that I never blogged it, but better late than never:

It has become impossible to deny. As many commentators have noted, standards are not what they were. The only conclusion is that the Olympics have been “dumbed down”. How else can we explain that, at each Olympic games, more and more medals are handed out? And how else can we explain that at each games, world records are frequently broken? These facts alone suggest that the events have somehow been made easier.

Of course, some officials will attempt to deny it. They will argue using such terms as “level playing field” and point to improved coaching and more intensive training methods. But do they expect us to believe that the so-called “gold standard” of gold medals are worth the metal they are cast upon? At one time, competitors faced far more rigorous tests, in a narrow range of traditional subjects such as Latin and chariot racing. Yet today’s young people are spoon-fed at every step, and allowed to opt for easier subjects such as beach volleyball and synchronised media studies.

To make matters worse, some entrants are able to “re-sit” their chosen events if they don’t get the result they wanted first time around. Take Ian Thorpe, the Australian swimmer. Last time, in Sydney, he failed to get a top-grade mark in the 200m freestyle. What does he do? He took his finals again – and this time, somewhat predictably, won a gold. Is this fair? How right that Tory spokesman Tim Collins should vow to stop multiple re-sits, saying: “Olympic athletes do not get a second or third go … if they don’t like the result.” Except the ones that do.

Things have got so bad, thanks to the glut of top results, that prestigious institutions such as Nike and McDonald’s are besieged by applicants for sponsorship deals, all clutching a slew of medals. How are these institutions going to be able to choose the best candidates to front their advertising campaigns? Take the badminton mixed doubles: Britain had failed to pass the semi-finals – until now, when it has gained a silver grade. At this rate of progress, by the 2076 Olympics Britain will win gold in every subject, a clear example of the “all shall have prizes” mentality. It is physical correctness gone mad.

However much I personally don’t think the exams are getting easier per se, there certainly are new A-Levels which are easier than some of the traditional options, and the A-Level standard clearly needs to be, erm, standardised across subject areas. However much anybody tries, nobody is going to convince me that the A-Level English Language and Literature syllabus is anywhere near as challenging as the A-Level Chemistry syllabus. I have a far more scientific than linguistic brain, sat both of the above papers, and yet still found the former infinitely easier than the latter.

Also, however hard the exams are, they are essentially pointless if they fail to divide the best from the very good. So what’s the solution? It would seem sensible to me for universities to institute their own tests, along the lines of the Oxbridge MVAT test, which would allow them to test candidates for the particular qualities required to succeed in a given course. Obviously, only those with appropriate A-Level results would be invited to take the tests. That way, university selection would improve, so drop-out rates would fall, and A-Levels would still have value despite increasingly well performing students.

Of course, that leaves industry in a bit of a pickle, but they usually manage to sort themselves out, and I’m sure they would in this situation. Besides which, students who tend to go straight into industry tend not to have the very-top results, which are the ones that are causing problems with differentiation anyway. So it possibly isn’t such a problem in that particular sector.

Maybe there’s a better solution all-round, but I certainly can’t see it. And I’m confident Ruth Kelly won’t, either.

Culture Vulture notes a Times of India article which claims that Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince contains pornographic double-entendres, including these particular favourites of mine:

‘You see?’ Dumbledore said quietly, holding his wand a little higher. Harry saw a fissure in the cliff into which dark water was swirling. ‘You will not object to getting a little wet?’ ‘No,’ said Harry. ‘Then take off your Invisibility Cloak… and let us take the plunge.’

Lupin burst out laughing. ‘Sometimes you remind me a lot of James. He called it my ‘furry little problem’…

Realistically, is there any book in the world that you couldn’t extract quotes from and put them in a completely different context? Well, perhaps the newly bought Very Hungry Caterpillar.

Perhaps more amusing still is one commenter’s observation on the Culture Vulture website:

hagrid had a giant mother and a human father, If you think that’s hard to fathom, be thankful Rowling didn’t make it the other way around.

Well, that had never occured to me before…

Robin Cook, one of the few politicians to whom morals meant more than career, has died aged 59. He was, without doubt, one of the most intelligent MPs to have sat in the Commons in recent years, and an extremely skilled debater. He isn’t someone I always agreed with, but he’s someone I always highly respected. There’s a full obituary on the BBC News site.

Requiescat in pace