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Good Lord.  A survey suggests Brit kiddies are a bit……confused:

One in five kids believe Toy Story’s Buzz Lightyear was the first person to set foot on the moon rather than Neil Armstrong.

And one in twenty youngsters thought [tee vee] Counter Terrorist Jack Bauer was the brains behind the Gunpowder plot.

Want some more?

The survey also found a third did not know Alexander Graham Bell invented the telephone, with nine percent reckoning it was Deal or No Deal’s Noel Edmonds while one in five thought it was Charles Darwin.

The research found kids’ science and space knowledge isn’t tip top either – with 11 per cent thinking Isaac Newton discovered fire and Albert Einstein was Frankenstein’s brother.

One in six think Darth Vader’s Deathstar from Star Wars is the furthest planet from Earth.

It also emerged one in twenty thought Christopher Columbus discovered liposuction, NOT America, while one in ten wrongly believe Rolf Harris painted the Mona Lisa.

Another 12 per cent of kids reckon the battle of Britain took place in space and one in six said The Daleks from Dr Who occupied Britain.

Okay, the one about the Death Star is kind of funny.  “That’s not Pluto! It’s a space station!”

But hey – Western Civilization’s “history” is nothing but a web of lies used to preserve the dead, white male hegemony, right?  So it’s not as if any of this stuff is important, is it.

The good news is that the wee ones are right up there on what really counts:

But two thirds of the 6-12 year olds correctly identified malaria as Cheryl Cole’s illness and David Beckham as being the most recent player to be dropped by Fabio Capello.

Who the hell is Cheryl Cole?

Today is the Feast of the Holy Rosary, commemorating in the Church the anniversary of the Battle of Lepanto in 1571, in which the combined naval forces of Spain, the Vatican and various Italian principalities gave the vastly superior fleet of Johnny Turk a thoroughly bloody nose.   They’re saying a rosary over to St. Rita of the Misunderstood Adolescence this morning to mark the Feast and I spent the drive there filling the eldest gel’s head with a lot of 16th Century trivia explaining its significance.

I must confess that despite the periodic outbursts of Convert Derangement Syndrome with which I bore even the most patient of my fellow port-swillers, I still never have said a complete rosary myself (although I have got into the habit of saying a decade as part of my pre-Mass ritual).   I think this is perhaps because it is one of the external forms of piety farthest away from my own background and therefore requires an extra burst of self-motivation that I, so far, have not summoned up.  (In other words, I suppose I’ve just been lazy about it.)

Sooner or later, I know that I ought to set aside the time and get with the program.  What better day than today?

UPDATE: Did it.  First time around the horn. What better day, indeed?

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