Funny story about schools pimping out pretty girls to be photographed getting results, and a friend pointed out the bonanza that is some pretty Cornish triplets gazing adoringly at pieces of paper getting them into Cambridge (find the link yourself, if you must).
What the annual hoo-ha about grade inflation made me think is this: movie classifications. Some things in the world are on a mixed-metaphorical ratchet squeezing toothpaste out of a tube. It's absurd to say that an A at A-level maths means what it meant in, say, 1973, and it's equally absurd to say that an 18 certificate means the same thing, and those certificates still have official weight.
By which I mean: I watched Badlands a few days ago. It is, like they say, amazing. It's an eighteen certificate. I think that, today, you would only just have to televise after the watershed. It might get a 15 certificate, but it would probably get a 12. I'm not saying what I'd certificate it as, that's not my point. I don't really have a point, like life.
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