School fees buy more than good grades There's much disapproving talk nowadays of over-confident children behaving with "entitlement," but no recognition that less privileged students may need to borrow a little of that swagger. When I look around it seems that it's the entitled who will inherit the earth. David Cameron and Boris Johnson could not have got where they are today without feeling absolutely assured, throughout their lives, of their ability, if not right, to take command. Ditto the Milibands, who obtained similar poise via Camden's intellectual elite. Margaret Thatcher felt entitled too, because that's what a good grammar school did for a girl - but what the comprehensives that replaced so many of them often failed to replicate. Indeed, I find it ironic that the very quality I like most about my sons" excellent, inclusive local primary school - what you might term an absolute lack of entitlement - may not be valued sufficiently in the outside world. Because what private schools really put a price on is something more nebulous than A grades: it's their ability to endow pupils with an apparently effortless air of success. The canniest state establishments have learnt to emulate this bravado; when the others follow suit, fewer parents will feel compelled to flog their home for fees. How to be funny: read a review Not since the pastel range of Bic pens for girls inspired the funniest reviews on Amazon have the web's wits been out in such force. Happily, they've found a new target. In February the publisher Scholastic brought out two new titles for children. One was How To Be Gorgeous and depicted a girl with a glossy brunette mane on its pink sugary cover; the second, How To Be Clever, featured a boy in front of a lectern marked "winner." A close look at Gorgeous's five-star reviews reveals that every accolade has a cloudy lining: "My boyfriend bought this for me as it was becoming apparent that I was too clever for him, and now I spend my time applying make-up, nail polish and bathing in ass's milk ... Rather than studying, I now spend my time sashaying about from place to place like Marilyn Monroe, while my boyfriend pays for everything that I do with all his money that he is earning from being super amazingly clever." I also enjoyed: "Just the other day my daughter said that she would like to become a palaeontologist when she grows up. Well, you can imagine my horror; just think what all that digging would do to her nails! This book has set her on the path to more lady-like endeavours such as flower arranging, embroidery, and stroking kittens. There's much muttering about online trolls, but not enough praise heaped on the internet elves who devote themselves to the service of public mirth. No one loses faith in this story Spellbinding: Olivia Hussey as Mary in 'Jesus of Nazareth' (ITV/REX) Is anyone surprised that the American TV mini-series The Bible has garnered big viewing figures for the History Channel? Cecil B DeMille knew the good book was bursting with cinematic stories and dogged atheist Philip Pullman recently declared that all children should know biblical tales. When I was young my favourite part of the Easter holidays involved scanning Radio Times for Hollywood's religious epics. I was always impressed by Charlton Heston parting the Red Sea in The Ten Commandments - although, as an adult, I snigger rather more than I should when an Israelite declares, "God opens the sea with the blast of his nostrils." I was equally partial to The Robe, where Richard Burton's smouldering tribune was almost outshone by Jean Simmons's elaborate coiffure. Nothing came close, however, to the towering glory of Franco Zeffirelli's Jesus of Nazareth. With a stellar cast and a script co-written by Anthony Burgess, the audiences of Easter 1977 abandoned everything for the box. Aged nine, I was transfixed by Olivia Hussey's (above) ingénue beauty and Robert Powell's piercing blue eyes. Twenty one million people watched it in the UK, 28 million in Italy (Pope Paul VI had suggested to Lew Grade that he make a life of Christ), while 90 million were spellbound across North America. You don't have to believe the Gospels to recognise it's the greatest story ever told.