Saturday night at 8 o'clock found me not at the films however at the Cinema Museum, a hidden gem near the Oval cricket ground in South London, located in a former workhouse which was briefly home to the young Charlie Chaplin after his mom fell on difficult times.

Truth be informed, I seldom venture south of the river. As Dave, from the Winchester Club, warned Arthur Daley: 'Lot of extremely wicked individuals' in Sarf Lunnon.

Coincidentally, the celebration was a one-man show by my old mate George Layton, star, director, scriptwriter, author, whose finest hour - at least to my mind - was playing Des, the dodgy automobile mechanic in Minder.

George read from his collection of narratives set in the 1950s, when he was growing up in post-war Bradford. They're wonderfully composed, warm, funny, expressive, a piece of history, a working-class variation of Richmal Crompton's Just William adventures.

The storylines are based upon the trials and adversities of a young boy being brought up by a single mom - a non-traditional domesticity at that time, sadly just too typical today. The Fib And Other Stories has been in print given that 1975 and discovered its way on to the school curriculum, where it stays today.

I can't assist wondering, though, how frequently these marvelous texts are utilized in class these days, in between teachers stuffing their pupils' little heads with stylish far-Left propaganda about 'white privilege', manifest destiny and, of course, environment modification.

The kids in the monochrome school picture which formed the backdrop to George's reading were definitely white, however no one could have described them as privileged. Those were the days when 'austerity' meant living from hand to mouth, not needing to go for a basic 50in flat screen TV, rather of a 65in OLED Ultra model, and only having the ability to pay for an iPhone 14 rather than the most current all-singing, all-dancing AI variation.

Child hardship was genuine, bread-and-dripping, holes-in-your-shoes stuff, not dining on Deliveroo and unwillingly wearing last season's Nike fitness instructors.

Until the digital/social media revolution, children gained their understanding mainly from books, writes Littlejohn

In the 1950s, children experienced real challenge, not the hardship of ambition and creativity which blights this generation, through no fault of their own. Today, kids live through their cellphones, rather of wandering free and experiencing life to the complete.

Until the digital/social media transformation, kids gained their understanding mainly from books. Yes, TV played a big function, as did the films, but no place near the dominance of TikTok and other apps offering pleasure principle in byte-sized chunks.

And how can squinting at the current CGI generated blockbuster on a cellphone a few inches broad ever compare to the sort of old-school, cinema, Technicolor and Cinemascope, best-out-of-Hollywood experience commemorated at the Cinema Museum?

It can't. Just as the very best pictures are stated to be on the radio, even better photos can be found in the printed word.

Among the most depressing things I have actually checked out recently was the author Anthony Horowitz complaining the fact that his 300-page books are far too long to engage the shorter attention spans of today's children.

No surprise child, and certainly adult, literacy levels have dropped amazingly. All this has actually contributed to the stunning revelation that white, working class pupils - kids in particular - are being left. Even Labour's Education Secretary Bridget Phillipson has been forced to admit they have been 'betrayed' by the modern-day schools system.

They suffer from a lack of adult involvement and following scarceness of goal. The white, working class boy in George Layton's stories definitely didn't suffer any parental overlook from his aggressive mum. Nor did he lack imagination or aspiration.

Education was the way out of hardship. It produced significant wordsmiths like George, in post-war Bradford - and our own dear Keith Waterhouse, late of this parish, who grew up in hardship in neighboring pre-war Leeds.

Literacy is the best gift we can bestow on any kid. My grandmothers taught me to check out before I went to school, setting me on the early road to a satisfying profession at the wordface instead of the relative drudgery of the work environment.

George Layton is considering taking his one-man program on the road, to small provincial theatres. I have actually got a much better concept.

If the Education Secretary wishes to reverse the betrayal of white, working class kids she might begin by getting the phone and welcoming George to visit schools, checking out from his short stories.

I truthfully think that if they could be persuaded to search for from their mobiles for an hour, they 'd be enthralled and influenced by the adventures of a young boy not that different to them, in spite of the distance in years.

You never understand, there might even be another Charlie Chaplin among them.

When they're not tasering one-legged 92-year-old men or nicking people for posting hurty words on the web, the police are progressively taking sidelines to supplement their income.

Some are working as painters and designers, others as scaffolders nand delivery chauffeurs. More intriguingly, sidelines also include a DJ (PC Hammer, anyone?) and a reiki trainer, whatever that is.

My favourites are beekeeper and kickboxing coach, although the copper running a tea shop needs to take the biscuit.

It's also reported that some officers are working as grocery store checkout assistants. I don't suppose there's any threat of them nicking a few shoplifters.

Mind how you go.

RICHARD LITTLEJOHN: Couple in their 70s who purchased an infant from a complete stranger are self-centered in the severe

First the frogs, now the octopuses
The unlawful migrant armada crossing the Channel daily might end up being the least of our problems. We now learn that a fleet of foreign octopuses from the Med is feasting on crab stocks off the coast of Devon and Cornwall and threatening to put regional fishermen out of company.

It's bad enough French trawlers hoovering up our fish without migrant molluscs helping themselves to what's left.

We're also told that parakeets from India and Pakistan are an 'unstoppable invasive types' having escaped into the wild and are colonising cities as far afield as Plymouth and Aberdeen. No doubt we'll be putting them up in the closest Holiday Inn before long.

And that's before I get to the buzzard that's been dive-bombing children in a school play ground in Romford, Essex. Where the hell did that come from?

We've got enough trouble with home-grown Stuka-style pigeons without importing kamikaze buzzards.

Take Labour's 'aspiration' to spend a useless 3 per cent of GDP on defence by the year 2525 with a shovel-load of Maldon's finest. The way Rachel From Complaints is taxing the economy to death, there won't be any GDP left in a few years' time. And 3 percent of things all is still stuff all.

AN NHS cosmetic surgeon who compared Islamist terrorists to the Nazis has been struck off. If he 'd said the very same about those people who wish to leave the European yuman rites convention, Surkeir would have made him Attorney general of the United States.

Having just recently claimed that the original ancient Britons were black, the woke deconstructionists now declare the Vikings were Muslims. Don't these people ever take a day of rest?